Addicted Ch. 02

"Mwah, mwah..."

Richard held me in his thick arms, letting me rest on his broad chest. He laid a few soft kisses on my hair and forehead, then whispered into my ear with that deep, captivating voice of his.

"That was so good, baby girl..."

After a few rounds of sweat-spattering, mind-blowing sex, we lay tangled in bed--breathless, spent, our bodies slick with heat. We cuddled close, fingers tracing each other's skin, hearts slowly settling.

"Mmm, please don't leave me, Daddy..." I whispered against his heaving, hairy chest. I kissed him softly and squeezed him tighter, clinging to his warmth like it was the last piece of comfort left in the world.

"I'm here, baby girl," he murmured, wrapping his arms tighter around me and gently rubbing my back. "I'm not going anywhere. I promise." He whispered the last part, his voice low and soothing. Almost convincing.

Then, I felt his warm, strong hand slide down my stomach and between my legs.

"Mmm... my baby girl's pussy must be pretty sore after taking Daddy's big, needy cock," he said, massaging me with those rough, practiced fingers.

"It feels so relaxing, Daddy..." I blushed, breath catching as he moved. "The way your big, warm hands touch me down there--it's everything."

"Woah there, baby girl. Look at you... already grinding on my hand." He chuckled. "It's getting late. And I don't wanna start something that'll take another hour to finish."

"Look who's talking," I murmured, reaching down to wrap my fingers around his already hard, throbbing cock. It radiated heat, pulsing in my palm.

"Haha, what can I say?" he said, groaning softly. "You always make it so damn hard to resist."

Richard shifted his weight to reach for his phone on the nightstand behind me. His bare chest pressed against mine, and I took in the scent of sweat and cologne and something uniquely him.

"Yeah... it's pretty late," he said, reading the time. "I've got to drive the kids to school tomorrow. I should get dressed."

He kissed my cheek one last time and got out of bed. His muscular, broad back stretched as he moved, his firm ass flexing as he walked across the room to gather his clothes. I sat on the edge of the bed, watching every step--every little unintentional flex that sent my heart racing.

"Richard..."

He looked back, surprised, just as I stood and reached for him, pulling him into a deep, hungry kiss.

His shirt hung halfway from his arm, but he dropped everything to pull me close and kiss me back--harder, deeper. Our bodies collided. He spun me around, pressing me against the wall.

We had a quick, heated round right there. He held one of my legs up in his arm, pushing hard into me, raw and rough and desperate. He came inside me, and neither of us cared. Not about protection. Not about pills. Nothing. Just the moment. Just us.

***

"Are you sure you'll be alright?"

Richard stood by the open door of his car, parked at the curb. He looked at me with concern in his eyes--distant now, like he'd already stepped into the role of a responsible, married man again.

"Don't worry about it, Richard. I'll be fine." I gave him a little smile, light but distant. "It's my fault for keeping you this late. I won't bother you further."

I stepped closer and leaned in, whispering, "And don't forget--we're not just evenly matched in bed." I winked.

He stepped back a little, eyebrows raised, then laughed.

"Yeah, right. I could never forget the first time I met you..." He opened the door and nodded.

As he climbed in, I stood there, watching the car pull away, my chest tight.

"See you," I said softly. "Safe travels."

The car disappeared around the corner.

I stared at the ground. Breathing deep.

I didn't want him to go.

***

I stood at the train station, waiting for my line to arrive. The screen flickered from 8 minutes to 25, then to 14, then to 30--on and on, as the wind bit through my coat.

Oh well. It is what it is.

Me, Misty, standing at a half-dead station in the freezing spring air, waiting for a train that said it was coming but probably wouldn't. Men and trains. That's life.

At least there weren't any weirdos around tonight--

"Burp."

I froze.

Nope. Spoke too soon.

There he was: that same drunkard from earlier, slumped on a bench, head down, looking pathetic.

Great.

Calm down, girl. He's asleep. Probably harmless. Just ignore him.

I turned back toward the empty tracks, zoning out. Richard still haunted my thoughts.

And then, I started to remember--the first time we met. Four years ago. Right here.

***

"On your six!"

I spun. A man in a hoodie and mask stood right behind me, his eyes wide with guilt. He bolted for the stairs.

Damn. My wallet.

"Don't fret--I'll catch him!" another voice called. A guy dashed past me, arm outstretched in a stop signal, eyes locked on the thief.

But I'd never been good at taking orders from strangers.

I sprinted after the thief, weaving through passengers, vaulting a fence near the ticket check, and chased him down a dim alley lit only by moonlight.

Cornered, the thief turned, flashing a blade.

"Everybody freeze!" That voice again--from the guy who'd warned me. He was panting now, but holding his stance like a cop.

"Not bad, Captain," I muttered with a smirk.

"Fuck off or I'll kill you!" the thief shouted, knife raised.

"Kill me? For a wallet?" I laughed, raising my hands. "Wow, sir. Real amateur move. How long you been at this?"

"L-let me go," he stammered.

"Sure. Once you give me back my wallet."

I sighed. "You can keep the cash, but--"

"On the ground!" the Captain shouted again, charging forward the moment he saw the thief drop his guard.

"Shut up, I go--"

The split second I looked toward the Captain, the thief seized the moment and lunged at me.

I dropped low, twisted under his arm, knocked the knife away with a kick, then bounced off the wall and wrapped my legs around his neck, slamming him down.

Both men gagged in unison.

"Now now..." I loosened the hold, dug into his hoodie, and pulled out my wallet. "Stealing's bad, sweetie. Even if it's just money, you're still stealing more than that--like people's trust in humanity."

I pulled out the cash and waved it in front of him.

"But if you'd just taken the money and tossed the wallet, I might've let you go. There's important stuff in here. Like my reward card. I was one stamp away from a free milk tea--with three toppings of my choice!"

I shoved the money into his hand.

"Take it. Get by. Get a job. It's tough at first, but better than this. Honest money's worth it. If you can't manage, my bar's three blocks away. Pink neon sign. Can't miss it."

He stared at me, ghost-pale, then bolted.

He actually worked at my bar as a busboy for ten months. Even returned that same tear-soaked cash the day he left.

"Woah. That was..." Captain walked up, stunned. "How... how did you do that?"

"Hmm, where to start..." I tapped my chin. "One of my friends with benefits is Brazilian-slash-my-capoeira-coach. Plus I do yoga and meditate every day. And this is just a work of fiction--any resemblance to real life is purely coincidental."

"W-what?"

"Never mind." I shook my head, then patted his chest. "Thanks for caring. People like you are rare these days. Everyone else just stared at their phones."

"Well, I didn't do much..." he said, rubbing the back of his head.

"It's the thought that counts." I brushed past him, my hand grazing his chest. "And if it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have even noticed my wallet was gone."

I turned back, took his hand, and kissed his cheek. "Your reward for being my knight in shining armor."

He froze. Face red. Breath caught.

"I, I'm..."

"Married?" I tilted my head. "Recently took off the ring, judging by the tan line. Car key on your belt, but you took the train. Didn't want your spouse knowing you were sneaking out. Hair freshly combed, outfit carefully picked. Condoms in your pocket--plural, and big. And..." I pulled back his waistband and peeked. "Mesh underwear. Nice taste."

I winked. "Don't worry. I won't tell. But if you ever want a drink, my bar's three blocks away. Oopsie Tipsy."

His eyes turned sharp, his mouth curled into a grin.

"Richard."

"Misty." I winked, turned around, and walked off. "Disband, soldier."

I didn't see him at the station again that night.

***

The train rumbled in the distance, snapping me back to the present. Finally.

The drunk guy was standing next to me now. I hadn't even noticed him move.

He stared across the tracks with that lost, hollow look.

I edged away, cautious.

The night breeze helped. The alcohol stink wasn't too strong. He hadn't tried anything. Yet.

But then--

He stepped toward the edge of the platform.

Shit.

I could've looked away. Pretended I saw nothing. But hell no. Not tonight.

"Are you fucking crazy?!" I shouted, lunging and yanking him backward. We crashed to the ground.

When I came to, we were both sprawled across the platform floor. People were either filming us or stepping around like nothing had happened.

"Like... maybe call an ambulance or something?... Or a makeup artist?"

Yeah. Definitely not my night.

Besides the sex.

To be continued.