Midnight Toxicity

15.

"Don't manhandle me!" I grumbled, tired of Bruce's shit.

On the drive here, I told myself I could mess around with this guy, but I was no longer in the mood. Not after he mauled my tits.

He's burning out.

Drugs had taken their toll on his psyche, and he was close to snapping. "I'm happy to hang, but you have to stop groping me."

"Damn cock tease," he snarled, childishly pouting. "Why are you afraid? You're acting stranger than a virgin who walked into an orgy. Pathetic."

I bristled at his condescending tone. Why was he making this difficult? There were willing sluts just lazing about downstairs, waiting for him to snap his fingers in their direction. Girls who would jump on the sizable cock he whipped out.

He proceeded to masturbate while tearing me down as if his filthy dick and even dirtier mouth would change my mind. I shuddered at the sight of him yanking on his length, his quick exhales settling on my chest.

Why in the hell was I still laying here with this asshole jerking off over me?

Without saying a word, I slipped from the bed, reaching for my jacket. Did he think this was a game? How many times had he gotten away with this sickening behavior?

He growled like an excited animal, jumping off the mattress to tackle me to the floor.

"Bruce!" I screamed in surprise when my back landed on the thick carpet. "What are you doing?"

"You aren't leaving!" his fingernails bit into my cheeks when he captured my jaw, shaking it in his grip. "Get your cute ass back in that bed. Should I invite a couple of girls in here to show you how it's done?"

"Go ahead," I spat through clenched teeth. "If you do not get the fuck off of me in the next ten seconds, you'll be sorry."

He laughed in my face. "I love a challenge."

"Because you are challenged." I shot back.

He licked my cheek. "Fucking smartass. They said you would show me the best night of my life, but you've treated me like a nuisance. It's pissing me off, so give it a break. You're not leaving until I stain that pussy with my cum."

I nailed him in the balls.

He howled in pain, rolling to the side. I fled, making it across the room, the door in my sights, before I realized I had left my shoes behind. Screw it. I started the night having to buy a new dress, and now I would have to do the same for footwear. Men were the worst sometimes.

Stepping into the hallway, I heard thumping bass, signaling the party downstairs was still alive. I did not care if Jack had finished getting his rocks off; we were leaving. Why did I always get stuck with the weirdos? Jack handled the last asshole who became rapey, but he couldn't overhear anything in this vast mansion.

"Charlize!" Bruce panted behind me, cupping his junk. "What the fuck, bitch? Weren't we having fun? What do you do besides suck dick for a living, anyway?"

"Take a cold shower!" I snapped. "I'm out of here."

With a feral yell, he ran towards me.

I did not prepare myself in time, and we collided with the marble flooring. My spine took another beating, but I quickly swiveled to my feet, glad I was missing my heels. They were a hindrance, but also an unintended weapon.

Oh well, I had two fists and long legs to kick his ass with.

Bruce found his footing just as fast, lunging after me. I dodged his attack, kicking his right kneecap from behind, using his forward momentum to help him find the floor again. He sucked in a surprised gasp of air, not expecting me to know how to fight back. The opiates swimming in his bloodstream allowed him to feel no pain, and it made me angry.