Rena: Code 143

2.10

I've encountered many women throughout my years as an adult. Some of them were more attractive than the woman I had recently met. They had bigger asses, slimmer waists, and bigger breasts. But somehow, someway, they don't stand out to me as much as she has. The woman whose name I don't know, but wish I did. Just so I could find her and fuck her.

She was beautiful with skin just as dark as mine but more smooth. Compared to my rugged self. Her long legs shone as she danced in the tight-ass dress that hugged her body. Sticking to her like a second skin, her breasts heaving with every exhale. She was fucking sexy.

I wanted her but had no way of finding the woman. When she ran off with her friend, I tried to keep up. Pushing my way through the crowd, but when I made it out of the club doors, she disappeared. It was as if she were a ghost. I was a damn military man. How the fuck could I not catch up to her? She was in heels, for Christ's sake! And if I did, what would I say?

"Hey, I followed you outside to get your number?" Fucking weirdo! She'd tase me. Never mind that, but she didn't tell me her name. I didn't tell her mine either, but that's because I didn't get the chance to. I planned to after seducing her into my bed, but that didn't work out. So, with a semi-hard dick, I decided to go back into the club to find someone else. Maybe that would make me forget about the runaway woman.

I thought wrong.

I found somebody to fuck, yes. But as I held their hips as I pounded into their cunt, I thought of how the runaway woman felt. How small she felt in my arms and the softness of her skin as I touched her. What the hell? I didn't even cum last night because I could hardly get hard. I was thinking of the woman too much while having sex with another who I didn't want. So I dipped and ended up coming home.

Now here I lay in bed, the next morning staring up at my ceiling. Wishing that I had gotten the woman's number before she left. I rolled over and face-planted into the pillow. Bunching it up in my hand, I let out a groan. It was just one night with one woman. She's the same as any other woman, I tried to convince myself. She just has beautiful dark locs, pretty brown eyes, the scent of-Alright, now I'm hard. I groaned into the pillow again, loudly.

"What's got you humping your sheets?" The insufferable man I call my best friend called out. I didn't even hear his footsteps or the creek of my door as he came into my room. Which could be because I stuffed my face into a pillow.

I turned my head to face him. He stood at the door with his arms crossed, wearing a smirk on his face. His eyes glinted in amusement as he looked down at me. Smug bastard.

"I wasn't humping my anything," I bit out.

"If you say so," he shrugged. It was then that I noticed he was dressed casually as if he were going out. His face was clean-shaven and seemed brighter. Someone was in a good mood.

"Going somewhere?" I asked.

He nodded. "Going out with Rena." I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Ever since he's been seeing that woman, he's been cheery. More cheery than his usual self. It was nice to see my friend happy, but he was happy with a married woman. I didn't understand him. Why did he keep seeing her? I guess my face must've changed because his smile slipped. "Relax. We're friends."

"Yeah, friends who fuck each other," I told him, repositioning myself. My dog tags hung from my neck as I sat up to face him. Placing my feet on the floor while I saw him come closer, his brow furrowing.

"I haven't touched her-"

"You will," I cut him off. "That's how it starts, Nick. You become friends and then you fuck each other behind her husband's back. Do you really want to break apart a marriage? Be responsible for such a thing?"

His gaze hardened as he clenched his jaw. I love Nick, he's like a brother to me. We practically grew up with each other. Since we were young, he's always been intelligent and level-headed. I was the one who got in trouble the most, not him. So seeing him going against his own morals over some woman didn't sit right. No woman had the power to control a man in such a way. Captivate him. It's not possible. Yet here he was, being controlled by the devil. So, being the brother that I am, I have to give him the truth.

"You'll fuck her eventually, Nick. And when she's done playing with you, she'll run right back to her husband," I paused. Looking up at him as we met each other's stare evenly. "You light up anytime you mention her. You smile at the thought of this woman."

"She's-" he tried to speak, but I shook my head.

Different. Yeah, fucking right.

"She'll hurt you, Nick." This time, I stared at him with pity. I sighed. Here comes the final blow. "You'd be a fool to fall in love with her."

He flinched, and I felt terrible for hurting him. But he had to see I was trying to help him. I didn't want Nick to experience his first heartbreak. He was too kind, too nice, too Nick to be wounded by someone who was never his. He might be angry with me, hell scream at me. But I'll be damned if he makes a mistake as big as this. The room remained silent for a while before Nick left the room without a word. And when I called for him, but he didn't respond, I blew out a breath.

How did he get so unlucky to meet the fucking Devil?