Fatal Flaws

I opted to keep him waiting for a minute before nervously cracking the door wide enough for him to squeeze in. In the past, I've learned you should never let a man know how desperate you are for them. They'll get an enormous head, walking around like they're indestructible. Then when they realize you're right where they want you it starts. The real psychological manipulation begins. They use it to their advantage, playing on your vulnerability. Sometimes it's broken promises, that never happen. Or you're swayed by their romantic gestures, letting your guard down. Then bam, everything changes and they begin withholding certain things. You only get the smallest amount of pleasure when it benefits them. It's crazy how that amount of power alone allows one person the ultimate control over another.

Most people don't realize sex can be just as dangerous and addicting as drugs. They are more alike than people even realize. For starters, you can buy them both off the streets. A pimp and a drug dealer both benefit by you indulging in your guilty sin. The more you do it, the more addicting it becomes. You crave it. It can be the high of a substance or the greed of money. It doesn't matter the outcome is always the same. It's amazing some of the things people will do when they're desperate, searching for their next score. With drugs they steal, rob, lie, and more. Sex can make a person lie, cheat, rape, along with many other things. Both of them temporarily take the pain away, distracting you from reality. The only real difference is that people will forgive you quicker for one of them. Not to mention it's a lot more fun, especially, when it's a secret.

"Nine minutes you were cutting it pretty close, weren't you?" I tease, grabbing him by his suspenders, and pulling him towards me. It's pointless to waste any more time. I'm already breaking so many rules. Why not get down to the point? Without missing a beat, I sneak my hands under his firefighter jacket. It slides off easily with little effort. The thin plastic-like material falls to the ground below. A swooshing noise echoes when it collides with the tile below in the deserted room.

My mouth drops at the sight of him. He's gorgeous. The snug-fitting but oversized firefighter pants hug his waist perfectly. The low-lying waistline allows his tattoos to creep up and around his hips. His ink creeps up, spreading across his torso in all directions. The bright red suspenders press against his chest, snaking over his broad shoulders. More tattoos peek out from beneath them. I love how they cover his naked chest and continue down his bare arms. Despite knowing they're there, seeing them in person always surprises me. No matter how often I witness them, they turn me on every time, igniting my desires. I never used to like ink, but on Hayden, there's something about it. They tell the story of his life without using actual words. It isn't like he's an open book. He never tells me anything about himself besides a small tidbit here and there. Even then I don't know if I can believe him, it's always half-truths. But his body art sometimes tells me the rest, helping me read between the lines.

He agrees with me. Not wanting to waste any time, he roughly grabs hold of my thighs, hoisting me onto the small sink. I don't have to say a word. He knows exactly what I want, using his body to spread my legs, and easing himself between them.

"I've missed this so much," he coos, blowing gently on my neck. I moan as he leans in closer to me, sucking my skin. It feels so good. The harder he sucks, the more aroused I become. He must have consumed some of that pink beverage. The fruity scent of his breath gives it away. Out of habit, I wrap my arms around his neck. My fingers lead the way, inching their way upward, grabbing hold of his hair. It's so soft. My fingers play around in it, becoming entangled, tugging at it.

"I love it when you do that," he purrs in my ear. The warmth of his breath on my skin excites me. It's like holding a match, watching the flame dance as it comes to life. His hands reach up, grabbing hold of my wrist. Using his strength, he forces them straight up into the air. Holding them above my head he slams them against the mirror behind us. Managing to keep my wrists in position with one of his large manly hands, the other freely roaming over my body. Moving up, beginning at my wrist, his finger trails down the length of my arm. He takes his time, tracing up and down my bare skin, and continuing down towards my neck. I moan louder as he repeats this motion several times. His gentle touch causes goosebumps to rise in response. Applying more pressure against me, he leans in closer and closer. Our faces are mere inches apart before his lips collide against mine. Without a word, he releases his hold on me. My arms fall helplessly down onto his broad shoulders. My entire physique melts beneath his simple touch.