74 — JULIAN ADAMS (POV)

“Alright, I get your point.” Mike lets out a short breath and takes a sip of his whiskey, staying silent for a long moment before adding, “I'd certainly have trouble dealing with that, especially since Angelee likes to please people and comply.”
I close my eyes tightly, with an intense chill taking hold of my chest, my stomach… It's a horrible shiver running up my spine and spreading across every inch of my skin.
*I knew it.*
*Of course, I knew it.*
“My daughter is the most important thing to me. After Eric, I think I'm a little more concerned. I worry about Angelee a lot and think she might get involved with someone who isn't good again.” Mike looks at me intently. “And well, you're right, probably the father of the woman who is bothering your thoughts wouldn't want his daughter to get involved with a manwhore like you either — but does it really matter what he thinks?” He says with a smile on his lips and a playful tone.
I let out a low chuckle, shaking my head.
*Ah, Mike… You don't have a clue, do you?*
*You would never say that if you knew.*
“If Angel's date is a playboy, would you still think your opinion isn't relevant?” I move my eyes to him again, resentful eyes.
“No, I'd definitely kill him.” Mike laughs, patting me on the back, “Well, I'm just glad she's moving on, you know? But if he's someone shady, I just deal with it, and it's all good.”
“You sound like someone even shadier,” I mutter, seeing him laughing in a suddenly lighter mood.
“Do you know him, by the way?” Mike asks, thoughtfully, “The guy Angelee is seeing?”
“I've seen him a few times.” I nod, my chest squeezing so tight I feel sick.
“Sounds like someone I wouldn't like?”
I open my lips to answer him and notice that petty words almost slip through them. But I swallow them hard and force a smile, “I think it's okay… He doesn't seem to be a manwhore like me.”
“Thank god.” He raises his eyebrows, laughing.
*Hah, I really would like to die right now.*
“But seriously, man… You need to sort this out, people in the company are already talking. Just go and get your woman.”
I deny it with my head… I can't.
“Don't worry, I'll handle it the best I can.” I force a smile. “As you said, I'm fine with fucking a woman if she's hot and shakes her ass for me.”
Mike rolls his eyes.
“What do you think, my friend?” I throw my head back, stretching my throat and staring at the ceiling, “After a good drink, there's always a hunt.”
***
My mind isn't in its rightful place right now, but does it matter?
The red lights bring relief to my tight chest. Or maybe it's the alcohol. Or both. What really matters is that I'm in a familiar place — my territory. Here, I can make myself at home and rearrange my thoughts… and find a body to relieve myself.
We're sitting at a round table with sofas around it. Mike is staring out at the club with a somewhat apathetic expression. I know he doesn't like my methods, but that's to keep him from having to worry about his sweet little daughter getting involved with a man like me.
I take a sip of the drink in my hands and don't even know what it is since I don't taste anything. Even the strong smell of alcohol doesn't affect me anymore. I'm already past drunk.
“Juls?” I hear a familiar voice and raise my eyes.
Oh, I recognize those long legs, blond hair, and blue eyes!
“Hey, Cathy!” I give a big smile, or at least I think I'm doing it because smiling has become a hard thing to do lately. But then, my eyes flick to the side, to a girl standing next to her. She also has blonde hair, but darker. “What's your friend's name?”
Cathy frowns, but her friend is quick to answer me, “Sarah.”
“Sarah…” I repeat the name, rolling it around on my tongue, then give a flirtatious smile, “Are you a sub, Sarah?”
“I can be for you.” She answers me with the same tone, giving me a sweet smile.
She'll be enough.
Four years ago, I swore to myself that I wouldn't get with brunettes again… I can't afford to imagine Angelee every time I get into bed with a woman. And now, I'm sure it will be even worse. *It has to be blonde.*
“Julian,” Cathy says with a serious voice, drawing my eyes. “What about your girl?”
I laugh, shaking my head, then raise my eyes again and say low, my voice almost muffled… “Shut up.”
“What?” She raises her voice, almost shouting in a high-pitched tone.
“It's no use, girl.” Mike says, shaking his head, “He's had too much to drink, you won't be able to reason with him.”
Whatever.
I stand up, walking past Cathy, who looks at me in a mix of anger and disapproval. But I just give her a teasing smile and slip my arm around Sarah's waist, approaching her from behind, with my lips on her ear, “Why don't you come with me?”
She seems to shiver under my touch and smiles in response, “Where to? Maybe we can go to your apartment?”
My apartment…? No way.
There are traces of Angelee in every corner.
“I want to fuck you right here, in a corner somewhere.” I say firmly, sliding my hand down the curve of her waist to her hip, “Would you like some adrenaline? You can scream all you want, no one will hear you with that loud music.”
The woman's smile widens, and she nods. I didn't say anything else, just guided her to a part of the club that I know is more secluded and darker. She's wearing a tight, short dress, it will be easy to just lift her skirt.
I take her arms and trap them against the wall, sliding my hand down her arms until it's near her waist. It's dark, so I can't see the lust shining in her eyes, but I can hear her sharp breath. So I just close my eyes too and lean in, with one quick and rough hand tangling in her hair, pulling her face close to mine.
Our lips are almost touching, and I'm painfully aware that it's not Angelee who's in front of me now. I take a deep breath, inflating my lungs to the max, trying to take her off from my thoughts.
I run my tongue over these so unfamiliar lips, quickly finding a gap between them, finding the softness of her tongue that also seeks touch.
And I kiss her slowly, deep, an intense intertwining of tongues that I know steals *Mara's* breath away. I'm pulling her hair to make her follow my pace, but there's something off… I don't feel my blood pulsating, my heart racing… I don't feel horny at all.
Trying more, I run my mouth down her chin to her neck, leaving a wet trail while sliding my tongue to her sensitive skin. Her hands search for my arms, squeezing the muscles, running her palms along the curves they make in my shirt. I can feel in the way she touches me how much she wants me...
*But still…*
I spin her firmly, making her breasts glue against the wall surface that's cold. And just like that, *Hannah* lifts her hips and wiggles her ass, rubbing against me, against the erection that should be there but isn't.
Grunting, I grip her waist even tighter, rubbing her ass against my little friend, who's showing no sign of stiffening.
I close my eyes tightly, letting out a harsh breath, and lean in to kiss the back of her neck. I slip one hand inside her skirt, lifting it until the cloth gathers at her hip.
Now that she's just with her panties exposed, I expect it to have some reaction, but when I rub against her ass, pulling the panties down to fit between her buttocks… nothing.
Even though she's moaning, and my hand now reaches her wet entrance… I'm not getting hard.
“That's not good,” I say, lowering my hands slowly, surprising the woman who slowly realizes what's happening. “I'm sorry, I think I'm too drunk, Hannah.”
“It's *Sarah!”* She says loudly, offended, while lowering her skirt, “What's the point of getting a sub if you can't even get hard?”
Okay, I deserved that one.
“Sorry,” I say quietly while she walks away, leaving me alone in that dark corner, where I'm away from eyesight, from attention… And I let my back slide down the wall until I finally reach the floor.
I sit up, lifting one knee, resting my arm on it… And suddenly, a weird sob escapes my lips.
Closing my eyes tightly, I feel my eyelashes getting wet, and I'm sure my appearance is really pathetic at this point… But what the hell is this, anyway? Why do I feel so miserable? Why can't I get hard?
I miss my little Angel…
*I miss her so fucking much-*
“Oh, damn,” I grumble, with realization hitting me hard. And I open my puffy eyes, with my chest hurting so much that I have to dig my fingers into my shirt, “Looks like I'm really in love.”