CLOSER | H.S.

09.

Harry's pov.

"The true man wants two things: danger and play. For that reason he wants woman, as the most dangerous plaything."

— Friedrich Nietzsche

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I was literally left with my cöck in my hand.

I would be left with aching balls if I don't come soon.

"You know I don't like to do this", Angie's whining voice complained to me. I was currently in my bedroom, still kind of drunk from the party, laying in my bed and in a mission to convince Angelina to give me a blowjöb.

She thinks it's gross.

I bet Scarlet doesn't.

But I had no time to be mad with anyone right now.

"Just give it a little kiss then", I practically begged to the woman sitting on the bed.

She looked at the hard bulge formed underneath my pants and furrowed her brows.

"Angie, please", I touched her head, slightly making pressure down. "Baby, touch me."

"I don't like this", her voice was insecure. I was almost there.

"Can't you do it for me? Just this time?" I gave her the best puppy eye I could and she melted right there.

That's my cue.

"Like this", I touched her hand and brought it to my crotch, she looked a bit terrified, but I squeezed my hand on top of hers, making her cup me. "Go on, harder", I instructed her.

I left her hand alone and she kept what I was doing, looking at me. I breathed heavier to encourage her.

I slowly dragged my pants down so I wouldn't scare her, like she was a wild animal ready to run.

But when my cöck popped out of my boxers, slamming on my belly, her eyes widened.

"Why can't you just fuck me?" She huffed tiredly.

"Because sometimes all a man needs is a simple blowjöb", I was about to flip out on her, but I knew that if I did it I'd never get what I want.

"Baby, please..." She groaned.

"Baby, please..." I begged.

This bitch is gonna make me masturbate in the shower, I can sense it.

"I don't feel comfortable with this", she stated.

There was nothing else I could do anymore. I respected her decision, even though I hated it.

I was left with my cöck in my hands once again.

"I'm gonna take a shower", I got out of bed, cupping myself to hide my erection.

Scarlet's pov.

Cold coffee in the mornings. And yet, it's not even morning. It's three in the goddamn afternoon in a fucking Sunday. Not even one single bill hidden underneath my mattress, or behind my toilet, much less in my underwear. A stripper's life is not as fine-looking as people portray in movies.

In reality, I came back from a party at five in the morning, my lipstick smudged and mascara in my eye.

The worst thing was the fact that I had to lay in my bed and think about every single moment we ever had together for hours, while he gets to go home to his hot fiancé and live the perfect life, not remembering my existence.