Damon Vale closed his eyes and fell back onto his rumpled bed. He’d just gone another around with his girl, but was still stressed. He slowly released a frustrated breath, as he listened to her murder one of his favorite songs while she showered. Damon wanted her to hurry up and get out. He didn’t need nor want her lingering around today, especially since she hadn’t been any help in cleansing Tori from his mind. He’d called his latest piece the moment he got home, hoping he could screw away his irritation. To his disappointment, Tori still lounged around in his mind with legs crossed, making no attempts at leaving.
He and Tori had been dating for a year when he called it quits. Damon felt he had no other choice. She wanted things he wasn’t willing to give. Marriage? Naw son, that wasn’t for him. There was no way he wanted to be tied to just one woman. He didn’t give a flip about commitment. In his opinion, he had a lot more tail to chase; the more women the better. He had no use for any woman who wanted a total connection to him. He needed room to breathe. He needed to be free.
From the moment he and Tori met, it was all about sex and how quickly he could get her into bed. As far as he was concerned, their relationship outside of the bedroom was non-existent. He had liked Tori well enough, but love? Damon didn’t want to know anything about that. Even though he told her many times he loved her, those little lies were just to keep the sex coming. Who needed a woman hanging around after sex?
Damon sighed. Things were just fine until Tor got tired of waiting for him to “come around” as she put it. She wanted a real relationship, marriage, that whole family thing. So when she gave him an ultimatum, he dropped her. There was no way she or any woman was going to force him into permanent lock-down. He just smoothly moved on to the next willing piece of ass. Damon figured, if he gave Tori enough time, she would see the error of her ways and beg for him to come back. But it’s been nearly a year, and not only had she not begged him back, she’d moved on.
Looking back on his choice to leave, Damon frowned. He wasn’t so sure he’d made the correct decision. Maybe he should have bought a ring and strung her along a little while longer. Hell, if he had done things right, he could have strung her along for years. But he hadn’t cared enough to put that kind of work in. Besides, she was just another female, just another pair of legs to spread. And he had spread plenty since he’d left Ciara’s bed. Everything was all good as far as he was concerned, no regrets—or so he thought.
Damon Vale had been on top of the world, until he saw Tori in the market. He hadn’t given her much thought before then. She was looking good as usual, no big deal. What agitated him was the way she snubbed him. As if she could’ve cared less about him or his latest woman. He wanted her sitting around longing for him, so if he did decide to come back, she would welcome him with open arms—and open legs. Damon always liked to keep his women hanging just in case he felt the need to back track over old territory. But from the looks of things, Tori had no use for him.
After she ignored him, he decided to spy on her. He wanted to know what had her mind so tied up to the point that it wasn’t on him. Needing answers, he borrowed his best friend’s minivan to get the job done undetected. The last thing he wanted was for the trick to think he was still into her. He almost got caught that day she came out of her house unexpectedly. It was a close call, but he managed to drive away before she could see him.
The first few times he sat outside her house, it was the same routine, with her leaving for work or the store, nothing special. Tori’s only visitor had been her girl Tamera. But last night that all changed when a sleek white Jaguar pulled into her driveway. He had been passing the time playing some inane game on his iPad. But the moment the Jag pulled in, he’d tossed the tablet onto the passenger seat to give the driver his full attention.
He leaned forward, as the driver’s door opened and a well dressed white guy exited the car. Leaning further, to the point where his face was nearly pressed against the windshield, he tried to get a better look at the guy. Who was he and why was he at Ciara’s? He didn’t know what to make of this, especially with Ciara’s girl Tamera present. She had pulled into the drive just minutes ahead of the guy.
Damon impatiently tapped on the steering wheel. He desperately wanted to know what was going on inside. How long was this guy staying? When Mr. Jaguar finally did come out, Damon almost lost it. He had a smiling Tori on his arm. What the hell was going on?
Needing to know more, he followed them to a fancy restaurant where he kept an eye on them from the bar. Tori was dressed to impress and that infuriated him. She never dressed that well when they were together, although he refused to admit that he rarely took her anywhere; and certainly not to a place as fancy as that. Hell, he couldn’t afford the place, even if he had wanted to, not on his salary.
Damon frowned when Tori laughed at something the dude had said. And to make matters worse, the man was fondling her hand as if they were sleeping together or something. Was this the guy who kept her from longing for him?
Pissed, Damon had watched the two a little while longer, before draining his glass of its over-priced liquor. Sliding from his stool, he glanced at the couple once more, before heading downstairs to wait.
Damon ground his teeth, as his mind chewed on this memory. He couldn’t believe Tori had moved on. And not only had she moved on, she had found herself a rich white guy to make the transition complete. She wasn’t supposed to be out with another man. Tori was supposed to be at home pining away for him!
Damon had waited for them to come back to their car, before following them back to Ciara’s place. He wanted to make sure Mr. Jaguar didn’t take her back to his place. He was more than relieved when he found they were headed in the direction of her house. Still, how long would he stay once they got there? He had to know. He had breathed another sigh of relief, once the man exited the house, this time with Tamera leaving also. The guy hadn’t stayed. Maybe it wasn’t all that serious after all.
After awhile, Damon watched as the lights in the house were turned out for the night. Satisfied that nothing was going on between Tori and Mr. Jaguar, he was about to start the engine to leave, when a car, more expensive than the Jag, turned into the driveway. He glanced at the van’s digital clock—it was late. Now where did this man come from? Before tonight, he had never seen any man at Ciara’s, let alone two.
Damon’s brow furrowed in confusion as he watched the guy climb from the low slung sports car, nearly sprinting to the front door. After the man rang the bell, Damon saw a scantily clad Remy open the door. His eyes widened in shock. After the man entered, closing the door behind him, he couldn’t handle anymore. With the way Tori was dressed, Damon didn’t have to wonder if this man would be staying. Starting the van, he pulled away from the curb.
Damon sat up the moment he heard the water shut off. The dumb trick was still belting out his former favorite tune. He ground his teeth some more, as he got up to pull on his briefs. It was time to put the cat out. He’d had more than enough of her, with her fake hair, fake nails and eyelashes. Not to mention the ton of make-up she spackled on her face. There was so much of it; it was mask like, downright unnatural.
Damon’s penis twitched. He smiled with little amusement. He had to give it to her though, hood rat or not, the honey was sensational with her mouth. But the moment she opened that mouth to speak, he wanted her gone. He grinned a little more. Her mouth’s work was what kept her around this long. He was never much for kissing, but to keep her from talking before and during sex, he would shove his tongue—if not his dick—down her throat if necessary. The woman was pure trash.
Feeling a headache coming on, Damon eyed his soon to be ex-girlfriend, as she sashayed into the bedroom, wrapped in a plush brown towel. It was beyond time for this trick to leave—and for good!