THE CRAZY GOOD SERIES - Rachel Robinson Page 0,15

When I hear the papers I still carry rustle, I know I have to get the fuck out of here before I explode. I want a drink.

No you don’t.

I need to fuck something. I know getting laid won’t even appease me. The game is now fucking with my head and my damn dick. I realize I haven’t said anything to this pansy prick.

“I already got everything I need,” I say, confusing him. I turn around and blaze out of the stifling office building as quickly as I can. I slink a leg over to mount my motorcycle, the only thing I’ll get between my thighs today, and shake my head. This whole afternoon is shot to shit. The rumble of the engine does little to soothe me, so I push the accelerator faster, urging it to take me where I need to go.

Captain’s at 8 o’clock.

CHAPTER FIVE

Maverick

“JUST SCREW HER, dude. It’s easy. Pull the thong down or rip it off and shove your dick in there and bump it around. Ahh yeah,” Stone says.

Soaping up my hair I let a chuckle slip. We’re in the showers after a long ass workout. I hit it hard. My shoulders are sore and no matter how long I stand in the lukewarm water, my skin burns. Images of Morganna and her thong flit through my head and I wince a little. Won’t be telling Stone that. Windsor wasn’t at Captain’s when I casually stopped by the night of her date with Garth. Her absence only made me think she was probably screwing him at home in her bed. The thought of him in her bed enraged me. If I couldn’t have her, I didn’t want anyone else to either.

“Why are you doing this to yourself? The Maverick fuck club is extensive. Bag one of your many admirers. Don’t get bent dicked about the one who won’t have you.”

After the no-show date I fucked four girls this week, but I didn’t tell Stone that. I wanted to prove to myself and to Windsor that I was fine. That it didn’t matter what game I was playing, I still had it. Each chick was equally excited to be worked over and I just didn’t care. I wasn’t into it. I got off…barely with the last one.

You know what I had to think of to get there? Blue Eyes on her knees, whale eyeing me, lips wrapped around the base of my cock, while she fingered herself and hummed my name. I tossed the girl out of my hotel room the second I ripped the condom off my dick, so disturbed with the mental image of Windsor. I jacked off three more times that night to the same mental image, or some variation. Always Windsor. Always saying my name. Always her hands on me. I choke on the mental image now.

I shut off the water and wrap a towel on my hips, before I pop wood and have to ante up my mental images of Windsor, because I’d have to offer up something to Stone as explanation. “I need to talk to her. I just need to talk to her,” I say. I half hope he doesn’t hear me sounding like such a pussy. I already have her cell number and I’ve almost dialed it a few times, but I haven’t. I’m stronger than that. Or so I’ve told myself.

It’s Saturday morning and I haven’t seen her face, in person, since Monday. I paused the game for the week so I could try to figure out what exactly I wanted or needed from her. Why the game? What was it about her? Could I fuck someone else and get over her? When the last one didn’t work, I knew I had to try to see where this went. I have to fucking date Windsor on the regular. Try to get to know her and do my best to find something wrong with her—something really awful that I can’t stand. Then she won’t be this unobtainable dick-sucking queen. She’ll just be another bag I can forget.

Stone groans behind me, still in the shower. “Morg will fucking kill me if I tell you this. Look,” he says.

I turn. My eyes are drawn down because he has his dick and balls tucked between his legs. His pubes are the only thing visible. It’s called the goat. The fucking asshole got me. He laughs loudly. I meet his eyes, smiling, and shake my head. I’m going to belt buckle that