[+18]* NOW COMPLETE*
Back Series Book 2
Dylan's been a good boy all his life but there's this insurgent flame that has been burning inside him and it's waiting for the right moment to be let out. He doesn't know what or why but he knows that somethi...
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"What have you done? I need that money by tomorrow." Tears burn my eyes and I grip my hair, trying to redirect the pain.
"Shit, shit! I'm screwed!" I curse.
"What do you mean 'screwed'?" Dylan gently grabs a hold of my hand, trying to get me to let go of my hair.
But I slap his hand away.
"Just stop. You've fucked up enough by now don't you think? Leave me the fuck alone!"
Willing my body to move, I turn around, ready to leave him there. But of course, he follows.
Weezing through the sea of people dancing, I take a deep breath as soon as I get outside. By the corner of the house, there's a small bench and I head, plopping down and opening my purse to see how much I've done so far.
Five-hundred euros.
Fuck. The drug was worth fifteen hundred, I'm still a thousand short.
"How much do you need?"
The sound of his voice enrages me so bad that the only thing I can do I shove him away and yell: "Fuck off!"
But he doesn't go away. Instead, he grabs my wrist and pulls me into him, engaging me between his chest and one arm. He's bigger and stronger, applying just enough pressure for me to not escape while he does something on his phone.
"Let me go!" I grumble to his chest.
"Stop being a bitch for once in your life and stay still," he grunts.
I still.
No one has ever talked back at me.
I lash out at people so hard and so soon that they don't even stick around enough to snap right back.
People walk away in my life.
Funny enough, I am not even mad that he is pushing my buttons. I am happy that he fights back just as much as I do. A big difference from the stuttering simp I met a week ago.
He stops touching his phone but still doesn't let me go. I squirm, trying to release myself from his hold. Unsuccessfully.
A few minutes later, the rumble of a car sounds from afar. It's s coming in our direction and soon enough it parks close to us. Dylan shifts, grabbing my wrist and tugging me along with him.
When we get to the car, he leans in, peeking inside the window and talks to a man. The guy is probably older than us but doesn't seem that much older. Early thirties, tops.
Dark tousled hair and bright green eyes. He is sitting down but from the way his head almost touched the hold, he is probably tall. Just like Dylan.
He is hot though, DILF kind of hot.
Is this his dad?
I hear something along the lines "Thank you... to help out a friend." and then finishes with an "I promise I'll pay you back, man," He promises.
