Living With The Manwhore

Lacy

The banging, the fucking banging. Day and night, over and over. Does he ever take a break? He does it just to get under my skin. He knows it, I know it.

“Oh god, Jax!” his latest flavor of the week screams at the top of her lungs.

I reach behind my head and smother my face with my pillow.Twelve months, Lacy. Twelve more months, and I can afford my own place.

His grunts come through the wall. I can practically see the satisfied smirk on his face, knowing he’s not only giving one girl a sleepless night. The pig.

I clench my comforter, forming a fist. That’s it, I’ve had enough of this shit. I throw off the covers, and quickly slip on my slippers, before stomping down the hall. The moans and banging get louder as I approach his man cave. Not even bothering to knock, I slam the door open.

I cringe when I’m greeted by a girl’s ass. She’s riding him like a prized bull. I’m struggling to not throw up in my mouth.

“What the fuck!” The girl yells, looking over her shoulder at me. She looks pissed but makes no attempt to cover herself.

Below her, a dark head of hair sits up. There he is, the asshole who’s turned the house into utter hell.

He has the audacity to smirk, before slapping the girl’s ass, “Okay babe, the show’s over. Beat it.”

I stand there, taken aback by his tone. If I hadn’t already known he treated these girls like whores, it’s definitely obvious now.

The girl doesn’t even argue, she leans down and kisses him, then lifts off his lap. I look away, not wanting to see any more exposed private parts. Miss Cowgirl gathers her clothes, and walks past me, shoulder checking me on her way out. I return her bitchy expression, and turn back to the bed, relieved Jax’s had the decency to cover himself with the bedsheets.

“Do you have any fucking respect? I have exams tomorrow, and I don’t need a crazy sex soundtrack playing into my dreams,” I snap, clenching my jaw.

“Eh,” He shrugs casually. “She was a crappy lay anyways, her screaming threw me off my game.”

“Hard to imagine you have any game at all,” I roll my eyes, looking at the wall over his head.

In my peripheral he smirks and I cringe, knowing he’s about to say something obscene.

“I’ve got game, sugar. How ’bout you come over here and see for yourself,” he curls a finger, beaconing me, his muscles flexing in the process.

I’d be lying if I said he wasn’t nice to look at, but my absolute hatred of him outweighs any attraction.

“Or am I too much man for you, baby? You look like the type who only fucks gentlemen.”

I finally look at him, thankful he’s pulled on boxers in the process of badgering me.

With an annoyed huff, I let him have it, “Listen you pig, you are, and always will be, the scum that lives down the hall. I should kick you out for fucking everything that spreads legs. Honestly, I don’t know why I haven’t yet.”

His face changes, and before I can take a breath, he’s in front of me. He shoves my back into the wall, and grabs my hands, holding them above my head. His other hand clamps around my throat, not enough to constrict my breathing, but enough to show me he’s not playing anymore.

“Now you listen to me, Brownie. I fuck who I want when I want. Just because you’re too stuck up, isn’t my problem. Hell, you probably get yourself off listening to all the action I get. So step off it, princess.”

Tears threaten to flood my eyes, but I won’t cry, not in front of this asshole. Yet, my face betrays my emotions. Jax gains a satisfied sneer as he looks down at me and sees his harsh words have affected me. I look for an escape, but he’s trapped me.

I swallow my pain and glare up at him. “Go. To. Hell” I spit back.

“Just as long as you’re there to lead the way, baby” he growls, releasing my hands.

He pushes off the wall, and I stagger back, touching my neck.

“You’re a-”

He cuts me off, “Save it, babe. I’ve heard all you had to say, don’t let the door hit your flat ass on the way out.”

Red hot rage scorches my body, and I want to scream at the top of my lungs. I want to hit him, pound my fists against his chest, while spewing all the curse words in existence. That would only make me look like a five-year-old throwing a tantrum, so I shake my head and leave. The door bangs closed behind me, and I hear him call me a bitch.

When I return to my room I slam my own door, and crawl back into my bed, cursing Jax to hell.