Never Met a Girl Like Her | ✔️

(18)

L E O N I E

Monday's should be illegal. I believe that some countries are even going as far as including Monday's into their weekends. Which sounds fucking fantastic but eventually Tuesday's turn into the new Monday's and then it's shit central again.

This particular Monday is shit because Jess know's that I'm hiding something from her and she won't let up on finding out what it is. Usually I would tell her to shut the hell up before I call her mom and express my concern over the fact that Jess has joined a sister wives cult and is pregnant with her husband's seventeenth child.

But I kind of want to tell her about Heath and the kiss. Because I haven't been able to stop thinking about it since it happened. It shouldn't have happened. But my self control went straight out the window when he looked at me with those fuck me eyes and his big strong hands held my waist.

Heath is the definition of 'your daughter calls me daddy too' when he's getting his shmack on.

However, as hot and dominant as he is, he's sweet and caring and considerate too. He's definitely 'bring him home to meet the parents material'. He shouldn't get to be both versions and do it so damn well.

It was a jackpot in the men department and girls would literally sell their souls for that kind of man.
I mean, fuck, he had a raging hard on, his finger half way up my V hole and my tits in his face and he stopped the moment that I told him to.

Which, should be standard manners. But these days a man's brain lives in his balls and it ends up getting smothered by all of the cum that ends up bursting to get out.

He hadn't tried to keep it up. Hadn't packed a tantrum. Hadn't gone cold on me. He was so damn sweet that it hurt to ignore his messages when he'd checked in to make sure that I was alright.

But I couldn't text him back. I needed to put a bit of space between us because I was falling into some deep fucking feels and this bitch was not drowning anytime soon.

"It's Heath, right?" Jess gave me a sad smile and nodded as if she was a damn mind reading medium. "What happened?"

"Do tell," Bray tore a bite off his sandwich and watched me, waiting expectantly. It was just the three of us at our outdoor concrete lunch table. The canvas sails that stretched from one side of the court to the other, were keeping the sun off us.

"Come on," Jess pleaded when I kept tight lip. "We won't tell."

"Won't tell who?" I pressed.

"Anyone. The others. Whoever."

"Lies," I scoffed. "You're a fucking walking TMZ article."

"I am not."

"Fine," I leaned forward on my elbows, deciding that I wanted to boast a little bit. I'd regret telling her. I knew that already. But whatever. "Heath an—"

"Nice tits."

I looked over Jess and Bray at a freshman walking past our table.

I peered down and my top two buttons were undone, as usual, but the table top was squishing my boobs up and together. It might have been a bit much cleavage to pass dress code but I still looked up at the kid with disgust.

He was one of those dipshits who had more confidence and ego than a fifteen year old needed. His white blonde hair was pushed back and his body hadn't caught up to his head. When underdeveloped teenagers tried to swagger, they looked like they had a bad limp.

Where did this confidence come from? Dad's with too much cash and not enough morals I'd guess. He looked like a little wank that told the hired help to get his juice boxes and cut up his sandwiches.