The Billionaire's Filthy Pleasure

The blood-faced chamber began scorching like hell while I glide my body above the burly stranger whose gasps lace along the constant knocks on the door that I intentionally ignore for instants.

After his strokes crawl from my mounds down to the tender, snowy skin of my middles, I tilted my face and gazed aloft for a pant. I remain in gradual shoves as my fingernails drill over his sweaty bronzed frame. “F-F*ck,” the man groans, chest tightening, as his manhood throbs inside her warm stiff cave.

As the I slam my weight over him, I hear Celine ambiguously bellowing my name from other side of the locked-up door. Then a series of fierce whacks on the door amplified the thrill in the bounds of the sweltering room.

“I’m coming…” he mouthed, heaving. “Faster! I’m near…”

Wholly nonchalant, I jeered. And in the middle of his dying gasps, I swiftly took my body off him, leaving him hanging before his rapture. The man was dumbfounded as he stares at me wear a silk robe in lavender color and leave my hair on a high ponytail.

“Hey, hey!” he grumbled with his arched brows and tried to reach for my arm but I didn’t throw him a f*ck.

I continued pacing away and went out the room. And there, I was faced by Celine, my co-worker, who was now in a disturbed contortion.

“Fix it… before Sir Atlas know,” she exclaimed, grabbing my arm which I immediately snatched back. Instead of blabbering, I kept walking downstairs, as the frowns and murmurs of the circling crowd catapulted on me.

My brows hooked when I spotted than in the middle of them, was a tall guy with a pitch black kimpy hair, standing with his shivering knees and dead cold hands; sweats rain above his thick eyeglasses’ frame. His red checkered polo was tucked in a coffee-colored trouser pants.

In extraction, he’s a downright freak.

“Gia, please be my girlfriend!” the guy bellowed, while revealing a bouquet of white tulips from his back. He even smiled awkwardly, reason why those people around us started sneering.

After some second, I remembered that he was the guy who offered me an engagement ring in the mall, weeks after he became my customer. Aside from the Pub’s rule to not get attached with them, I don’t really give a f*ck about him. Men are literally walking headaches. 

The guy tried to slowly step his feet forward, going near me, saying, “If you will accept my offer to be your boyfriend, I promise to---”

“Bullsh*t,” I cut him off.

Is this all men can do? Make promises that even they can’t keep? What a sheer bullsh*t.

But as I always do, I began feeding his fantasies. I unhurriedly sauntered towards him which made him smile. “Fine,” I said, it made him leer wider. “I’ll be your girlfriend in one condition…”

His eyes glimmered, as expected.

“Die,” I uttered, then a grin sprouted on my face.

He was stunned, so I once again repeated it. I even reached the bouquet from his immobilized hands and dropped it in the floor before I trampled it over my feet. I scorned as I turn my back.

“Stop wasting my time for your stupidi---”

I stopped treading when the scream of the crowd and an earsplitting sound of a shattered bottle echoed across the hall.

“I will.” His bold words made me look back.

He was now steering the fragmented edge of the bottle against his throat. “I’ll do anything for you,” he shakingly verbalized, voice starting to break off.

“Do it. Die,” I playfully provoked him.

The guy was shaking, but before he could bury that sharp thing over his neck, three bulky bouncers came into the scene and stolen the broken glass from him and fasten his arms, then they took him away.

I just shook my head after all that happened and went to my favorite spot in this pub, the rooftop. Laying down on a wooden bench before the handrails, I gaze over the night sky. This has been my resting place for years. In the middle of the silence, my phone which I placed above my chest pulsed.

“What about a dinner together?”

I read the message which my friend, Toby, has sent me. With a furrowed-brows, I replied, “Eat on your own, dumbass!” I stared at my phone for some time since my message wasn’t send. I don’t want Toby to think I agreed to his offer.

“Sh*t,” I mouthed and stood on the bench, raising my phone in the air. But while I was stepping side by side, I lost balance and I almost died from falling off this rooftop, if it’s not because of someone dragging off my arm and pulled me back.

Then suddenly I found myself pushing down my weight over a guy on the ground. He’s wearing a black hoodie and a face mask so I couldn’t see him clearly.

“That’s not how you kill yourself.”

With my cold ears, I heard him as we tried to compose ourselves back. Followed by a serial plunge of rain. Without saying a word, he scurried away and left the drenched rooftop. I was left there confused for a moment before I walked back our quarter to get my bag and go home.

Before I could step my feet away from the pub, a bright red car rushed before me, causing the mud to splatter over my body. My ears suddenly turned crimson but I know my ire won’t do a thing, for the vehicle already left me grubby.

“What did you do to my stuffs?!” A loud grouse of my Mom, Sylvie, welcomed me home.

“I didn’t do anything---” I was interrupted by the sound of perfume bottles after she threw it all over the floor. “Mom!”

She rushed towards me and grabbed my arms tightly. “How many times do I have to tell you to not touch my things, you stupid bitch!?” Then she started slapping and hitting me… again. But I just closed my eyes for I have been used to her hurting me.

“Hey, Sylvie! What are you doing?!” My Aunt, Emily, entered the house. “Are you okay?” She asked me. I nodded, emotionless. Mom furiously went back to her room.

While my Aunt was staring at me, I noticed her messed eyeliner. I know it. “He cheated on you again.” Aunt avoided my gaze. “Where is he?”

“Gia, your uncle and I are doing fine. It’s just a simple fight,” she reasoned out but I no longer believe her alibis.  

 “Break up with him now, Aunt.”

That’s my last line before I left our living room and entered my room. But I couldn’t sleep at all. Thus, I sat before the mirror and noticed the bruise beside my lips.

“Why does she hate me this much?”

My chest suddenly felt a heft and the side of my eyes started to scorch. Before a single tear flow through my cheeks, I bit my lower lip and shook my head, consoling myself.