“You love this pussy, don’t you?” I spoke against his lips, talking dirty even though I never had before.
He moaned in response, louder this time. “This is my pussy…” He started to rock harder, making the headboard tap against the wall. “And I love my pussy.”
The sound of falling water was loud because Heath was in the shower just down the hallway. After a few sessions, he was hot and sweaty, and he usually liked to be clean before bed. He continued to shave with my razor instead of bringing his own, even used my toothbrush though he could have grabbed one at the store every time he went.
I picked up my book from the floor and kept reading.
His phone vibrated on the nightstand, lighting up the dark and being obnoxiously loud.
I ignored it.
Then it started to ring.
I kept ignoring it.
Then it vibrated again—and again.
I set my book down because I wondered if something important was happening and Heath needed to know about it. I leaned over his side of the bed and grabbed his phone.
That was when my heart dropped into my chest.
Some bitch named Dynasty texted him a nude picture of herself, her tits in full focus. My hand shook as I stared at it, jealous, angry, pissed, all of the above. It was none of my business, but my emotional response outweighed my pragmatism, and I opened the message box.
Another photo for your collection.
What collection?
I opened his photos next, and he had a whole separate folder for dirty photos…with all kinds of different women. Sometimes the photos were taken with his phone, with the women right beside him.
I felt sick.
I dropped the phone like it burned me.
Now my heart raced, my ears burned from the rise in temperature, and I was so livid I didn’t know what to do. I wasn’t sure why I was so angry. I didn’t think Heath would ever fool around with someone else, but if that wasn’t the case, why were women still texting him? Why did he continue to have those photos even though we’d been together for a month now?
What the fuck?
I stormed into the bathroom and yanked on the curtain.
He stilled, looking at me like he had no idea what was going on.
“You fucking asshole.” I slapped him across the face then shoved him into the opposite wall.
He was so caught off guard, he nearly fell, gripping the shelf to stabilize himself. “What the fuck?”
I grabbed the bar of soap and threw it at his face. “Piece of shit.” I closed the shower curtain and marched off again.
The water turned off, and his footsteps were loud behind me a few seconds later.
I grabbed his clothes off the ground then turned around and threw them in his face. “Get dressed and get the fuck out of my apartment.”
He smacked the clothes down when they came at his face, his look full of rage, more furious than he’d ever been. “You care to explain what the hell you’re freaking out about—”
I grabbed his phone and pulled up the message. “Who the fuck is Dynasty?”
He didn’t look at the screen as it was held up in front of him, his expression hard because he was clearly pissed off at me when I was the only one who should be pissed off.
“‘Another photo to add to your collection’?” My voice rose higher and higher since I was so pissed, my chest caved in because I was so hurt. He hurt me—so bad. And that scared me most of all. I panicked, turned dramatic and ridiculous. Just the idea of him looking at another woman made me lose my shit. I pulled up the photo album. “What the fuck are these, Heath?” I threw the phone at his chest, hitting him hard. “How would you feel if I had a bunch of dick pics from all my old lovers? How would you feel if some guy texted me in the middle of the night?”
He let the phone drop to the ground, his chest rising and falling steadily as his face tinted a faint red color. When he spoke, his voice was loud, just like it had been in the basement where he saved me. “Dynasty is one of my whores. I’ve never hidden my past from you. I’ve never—”
“If she’s part of your past, why is she texting you now? You’ve been seeing me for over a month, Heath. Why the fuck is this bitch texting you?” My voice matched his, and if we didn’t calm down soon, someone was gonna call the cops.
“I can’t control what other people do—”
“Why is she texting you?”
His nostrils flared. “No idea. Haven’t seen the fucking message.”
I rolled my eyes. “Get the fuck out. Don’t come back.” I kicked his clothes at him.
He didn’t move. “You really think I’d mess around?” Now he lowered his voice, turning cold. “You really think I’d do some pussy shit like that?”
“No,” I snapped. “And that’s why this hurts so much.”
“Baby—”
“Don’t fucking call me that. I’m not your baby if other women are sending you pictures of their tits.”
He stepped closer to me.
I stepped back. “Come near me, and I swear…” I shook my head, ready to strike with everything I had.
He stopped. “I’m one of her best customers, and she’s obviously trying to entice me—”
“Would she do that if you told her you were seeing someone?” I snapped. “You obviously haven’t told her that.”
His nostrils flared again. “I don’t explain myself to people. I don’t even text her back. I’ve been so absorbed in you that I forget about the message the second she contacts me.”
“Then why do you still have all those pictures on your phone?”
He bowed his head slightly. “I haven’t looked at those in a long time. Honestly, I forgot they were even there.”
I rolled my eyes
