F*CK PERFECT BY DANYELL A. WALLACE
Ava is the sweetest, f*ckin’, most forbidden fruit that I should’ve never tasted yet the only one who seems to hear my silent cry for help. I warned her that she should turn away and run in the other f*ckin’ direction, but she stayed and decided to love me instead. Flaws and all.I have secrets. Who doesn’t? But the ones I have are caged for a reason and if released could send me straight to hell, along with the love of my life—because I refuse to let her go.
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Prologue
Bryce
Manwhore...womanizer...walking STD…These are only a few of the many insulting words that I’ve been labeled —all because of my love for pussy, more pussy, all the pussy. I love the way it smells, tastes, and looks, but most importantly, the way it wraps around my dick, all snuggly and shit, when I’m buried deep inside of it. My therapist believes I’m a sex addict. Shrug. Maybe I am, but if you ask me, I’m just misunderstood. Now, I agree that I have a fucked-up past when it comes to my sex life. Trust me, I’ve learned from it, though. That’s what life is all about, right? Making mistakes and hopefully, just maybe, you’ll learn from them. My past fuck-ups have steered me into a lifestyle of celibacy. Don’t believe me? You should meet my two new best friends, a jar of coconut oil and my right hand.I shove my hands into the pockets of my slacks and look around the tent at the many guests that showed up for Kennedy’s graduation party. My eyes glide over familiar, and a few unfamiliar, faces, in search of my date. Yes, you heard right. Date. If it weren’t for my lovely twin sister Morgan, I would’ve come solo. Especially since the one she set me up with is Helena, a cute, petite blonde with a nice set of tits that I’ve actually titty-fucked a couple of times in my unsavory past. I guess my sister didn’t get the memo that you don’t hook your brother up with someone who gives blowjobs like it’s a fuckin’ hobby. It’s bad for a supposed sex addict like me. But my sister insisted I get out, have fun, and stop moping after a woman that I’ll probably never have again.
Never say never.
I look down at my watch, wondering where the hell my appointed date is. She told me that she needed to use the bathroom, but that was almost—thirty minutes ago? Damn, maybe she got lost. She isn’t the brightest bulb in the box. My eyes continue searching. Morgan and her new fiancé Tyler, Kennedy, my mom, Aunt Betty, Ava, Hunter…Ava?!? My eyes rewind back to the sight of Ava standing there in a tight, black, strapless dress with a neckline that draws all of your attention to her tits. Her long, black, naturally curly hair, blended with reddish-brown highlights, is pulled up in a bun with some curly strands feathering around her face and neck. Damn, she’s a fuckin’ goddess.
Me Bryce, you Ava. I become all Tarzan, inwardly beating my chest. Like a mad man on a mission, I make several long strides across the makeshift dance floor. Ava doesn’t see me stalking toward her because her backside is facing me. My eyes journey from the top of her head down to her delectable ass. Fuck! My dick roars to life.
“Hey, Bryce,” a very out-of-breath Hunter greets me as soon as I breeze past him and his date Michael dancing the Lambada. I don’t acknowledge him or anyone else around me and let my mind and body gravitate toward Ava.
I can feel her flinch as soon as my body presses against hers from behind. I wrap my right arm around her waist then place my hand flat against her stomach, bringing her back to mold against my body. I can feel her heart beating through her back and the rapid movement of her stomach against my palm. When I bring my lips to her ear, a shiver courses through her body. Her back curves, drawing my growing erection to nestle against luscious ass. “You’re here. I thought you had to work late,” I softly moan and brush my lips alongside her earlobe.
Ava slowly pivots around to face me, and damn, she’s even more beautiful up close and personal. My eyes drop down to her plump lips painted in a deep shade of red then they glide back up to a set of hooded, hazel eyes surrounded by dark, elongated lashes.
I lick my lips then clear my throat of the dryness building in my mouth. Shit, why do I feel like an inexperienced, hormonal teenage boy all of a sudden?
Ava steps forward, closing the mere inches she created between us when she turned around to face me. “Yes, I’m here.” Her lips creep into a slow, sexy smile. “I would’ve been here earlier,” her hands reach up to fix the collar of my button-down, “but I really needed to stay and make sure I had all the files needed for court tomorrow. I still can’t believe my dad is letting me sit in on this case.” She smiles and it brightens up my whole fuckin’ world. “After I left work, I went home, got dressed, and came here to be your date.” Her hands slide down to rest on my pecs.
I gently palm her face, instantly loving the way her lips part slightly. I lower my head, inhaling the hitch of breath that escapes her mouth. I want to kiss her so fuckin’ bad that I couldn’t care less that there are watchful eyes around us or that my date could return any second now and fuck this entire moment up. My dick throws a tantrum behind the seams of my zipper, and I can’t blame him because all it wants to do is come out to play with Ava’s mouth and sweet, tight pussy. By the grace of God and pure fuckin’ patience, I tap down the feral beast inside of me that wants to devour Ava, inch by inch, and declare her mine forever and ever.
“Oh, Bryce, there you are. I must’ve gotten lost.” I hear Helena giggling behind me then she comes into view on my left, looking high as a kite and weaving side-to-side that she has to brace my arm for support. Fuck! “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too—“
Several gasps fill the tent at the sight of my date (Thanks,Morgan) who spews chunks of God-knows-what all over the front of Ava’s dress.
“Oops,” she has the fuckin’ nerve to laugh. “I’m so sorry.” Her pale skin turns a shade of green. “Bryce, I don’t feel so good.” Helena weaves my way then projects more vomit. I hop back in time for it not to get me.
I look up to see the only woman who’s ever held the key to my heart, my saving grace, flail her arms out to shake Helena's vomit from her skin in disgust.
Fuck, can my night get any worse?
