𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐋 |𝟏𝟖+|

𝐓 𝐖 𝐄 𝐍 𝐓 𝐘 ~ 𝐍 𝐈 𝐍 𝐄

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

♛ A T L A S ♛

I return to my seat on the couch and hoist my legs on the table before me and cross them. I reach over to the table behind me and grab two slices from the box. "As much as I love to see a bunch of women fight over me, I can't have my newly appointed doctor getting hurt before she even starts the job."

"I wasn't fighting over you. Get over yourself, you roach," Stella spits back as she sits on the couch opposite and far away from me.

"Where are you getting all these nicknames from?" I ask, half offended that she called me a roach and the other half offended that she wasn't calling me something else. "If it means so much to you, we can go back down there and let you humiliate yourself. I could use a good show." I suggest, my mouth full of pizza as I push the words out. 

Yes, I just fucking said that after she gave me the best show of my fucking life. I've seen thousands, if not millions of strip shows and strippers, but Stella's just does it for me. I don't know if it was the authenticity of it, or if it was the way it was so impromptu and not planned that made it so much better. If it wasn't for everyone being there, I would've started touching myself at the mere sight of her.

Too much?

But of course, that bitch, pardon my language had to stop that good ass show. I don't like calling women bitches, I don't think it's right. I don't normally call women bitches, but for this woman in particular there's just no other word. All the shit she's done and she's still in my life. Calling her a bitch is even an understatement. 

She was one of Rory's friends, but that didn't mean I was obligated to like her. All of Rory's friends had one thing in common; they all wanted to fuck me. And they're fake, so I guess that counts as two things. 

They're fake and she knows that, but she still allows them to use her. And it breaks my heart to see her hurt and see them hurt her and she's told my time and time again to stop fighting her battles for her. So, after a while, I gave up and let her get hurt on her own. Having a mom as a therapist really teaches you things and I've realized that I can't force her or anyone for that matter, to learn something, they have to learn it on their own. 

Stella ripped me from my thoughts as she harshly side-eyed me because of my remark at needing a proper show. Was I going to let her know that I enjoyed the fuck out of her show and wanted to fuck myself to it? No, no the hell I was not. I was just going to sit here and munch on my pizza like nothing is wrong and like she isn't looking at like she's about to kill me. 

"Where are you getting all that food from?" She bit back after a few moments, crossing her arms in front of her and attempting to frown and pout her face even more. She didn't even look the least bit angry. If she was, she knew how to hide it pretty well. 

I gasped dramatically, putting a hand to my chest while the other reached for a bag of Skittles in the food compartment installed in the couch. "Are you fat shaming me, Ms. Mariano?" 

"Yes, the fuck I am, Mr. Russo," she admits, unashamedly. I knew she was joking and using all her terms lightly. But something about the way she said my name was turning me the fuck on right now. So much to the point I would probably take her on the fucking couch. 

She comes closer and I don't even get to blink before I realize she's straddling me. Her thick thighs on both sides of me and her pussy right on top of my still hard dick. The shorts I gave her were doing her curves justice. It accentuated her body in all the right places, enticing me with the tightness of it and how it flattered her so well. Why did I even give her this to wear?