Stain by Francette Phal Read Free Book Online Page B

but I’m fucking confident in fucking. I know my shit. I know pussy and I know how to fuck. Grace is another notch. Bria I’ve had before. Two more flags, among dozens of others, I’ve stake in the glorious South Seas. She’s still flush in the face, red cheeks, kiss-bruised mouth, and the faintest hint of my handprint around her pale throat. Not my idea. Completely hers. That surprised me. The virgin is into erotic asphyxiation. I’m telling you, it’s always the quiet ones. Shy and sweet but freaks in bed. I wasn’t complaining.
    “Max.” There’s a breathy quality to her voice now that I’m guessing is supposed to sound sexy. It’s not. It’s fuckin g irritating. In fact, the moon-eyed way she’s looking at me now is making me nauseated. The sheets rustle around her as she comes to a sitting position. There’s a smile on her mouth. “Come back to bed.” She pats the bed invitingly.
    “Yeah, come back to bed, Max.” Bria pokes her dark green-colored blond head from under the burgundy, downy blanket and turns her head to look at me with sleepy eyes. A smile like the one Bria is sporting curls her lipstick-smeared mouth.
    I’m so fucking done with them. I take a moment to glance up from tinkering with the tripod across the room and say, “Fun’s over. Get the fuck out.”
    I hear Grace gasp, see her eyes widen a little because she can’t possibly believe I’m not interested in a second round. And I’m not going to lie and say I don’t enjoy that look. I fucking live for this moment after. The moment I tell them to fuck off. Thanks for the screw, sluts, now vacate the premises.
    I look at Bria and she’s looking back. Unfazed. She knows the fucking drill by now so there’s no reaction from her. I hear her sigh before she sits up. Big double D’s, white, and fucking luscious bounce as she gets off the bed.
    “What…? Why?”
    Grace’s question draws my gaze away from a silent Bria searching the floor for her clothes. I frown and stare at her.
    “You’re shit in bed, Grace.” I don’t like beating around the bush. Fuck. That’s a terrible pun. “Don’t get me wrong. I enjoyed how tight you were. Great little gift, by the way. But I was fucking bored to tears. It’s a good thing we had Bria here. At least she knew her way around a dick. I should be pissed at you for making me waste my time. But instead I’m going to be nice about this and let you leave here with a little bit of dignity. So do us both a favor. Don’t fucking cry and don’t beg for God’s sake. Lift your head up, grab your shit, and leave quietly. Like Bria is doing.” This is damn near arousing for me.
    “Maddox…please…I can do better. Maybe if we…practiced…”
    I laugh. Genuine, gut-wrenching laughter spills out of me. It takes me a minute to compose myself again before I can look at her. I walk away from the tripod and proceed to the bathroom. “Sweetheart, there isn’t enough time in the day. But don’t worry, I’m sure the camera got your good side.”
    “You’re a piece of shit, Max.” Ah, there goes Bria’s sunny disposition.
    “Thanks, sweetheart, it’s never too early for the compliments. Now, be a dear and close the door behind you when you both leave. I need to take a piss.” I enter the bathroom. “And don’t steal anything either,” I call out, before I close the door behind me. It takes the length of me emptying my bladder and washing my hands before I finally hear the front door click shut. Good fucking riddance. My charity work is done for the week. Grace’s going to end up hating me. They always do. And when she does, she’ll realize like the rest of them that they’re better off. It’s all about money to me, anyway. Porn, like dealing, is part of my budding enterprise.
    I exit the bathroom, find my jeans strewn across the floor on the other side of the room and put them on. There’s a bottle of whiskey in the kitchen cabinet that I take with me outside. I hop out onto the fire