Page 52 of I Can't Even


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“Impatient.” She laughed nervously as she buttoned herself back up.

I swiped the cum off the back of her leg, then lifted my finger up to her lips.

She opened her mouth and held my eyes as I fed her my cum.

Her tongue wrapped around my finger, and her eyes widened at my taste.

“Security!”

I turned my eyes toward the ceiling, praying for patience.

A mall cop.

Great.

“Let’s go,” I urged, picking up her shorts and tossing them to her.

She stepped into them quickly, and I pulled my badge out of my pocket and hooked it to my jeans.

When I opened the door, it was to find a female security officer standing there looking furious.

“Sir,” she said, her eyes going to Ellodie. “This is unacceptable.”

“There was an emergency,” I said as I put my hand on my waist.

Her eyes went down to the badge, and she stepped back hastily.

“’Scuse us,” I muttered.

It wasn’t that I had anything against mall cops.

But I hated how they flaunted their authority, acting as if they were kings of the castle when in reality, they were no better than anyone else.

Truthfully, I had a problem with any authority figure that did that, whether they were real cops or not.

Ellodie’s small hand stayed in mine until we were right back where we started. Our cart hadn’t been touched, and Ellodie’s hand left mine to grab onto the cart like it was her lifeline.

“Now, let’s talk about paper towel holders,” she said, a blush rising along her cheekbones.

I trailed a finger down the length of her jaw and winked before saying, “Baby, I don’t care what we get. You could buy one of everything in this store, and I’d be happy.”

Her eyes lit with excitement when she said, “Game on.”

A fuck must be earned. I can’t go down the street with a bucket of fucks, giving them to everyone. If I feel that you’ve earned it, I’ll give you a fuck.

—Quaid to his officers

QUAID

“Mmm, don’t go,” Ellodie murmured sleepily, hanging onto my arm that she was wrapped around.

I had a whole freakin’ body, and she was literally wrapped around my left arm. Her face was resting on my shoulder. Her arms were clinging for dear life around my biceps. And her legs were curled up to her chest but wrapped around my forearm. And my hand… my hand was between her legs where it’d been for the last couple hours, numb as fuck, but more than happy to be where it was despite the pain.

“I have to,” I grumbled as my alarm continued to blare on the nightstand.

I went in at four in the morning for my shifts to get ready for the day. I’d see who was on shift, who I needed to put where in each district. Who was going to be missing. Where I needed to pull from to even out.

It was a long, arduous process, but I did the job well.

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