II.

Her breath was hot and heavy in his ear, her moaning was inebriating as she ran her fingers through his dark hair. Their lips danced and their tongues wrestled, he knew his lips were swollen and red, but she tasted so damn good he could barely bring himself to care. He hooked his hands under her thighs and lifted her, affectively wrapping her legs around his waist, her arms snaking around his neck.

"Fuck."

He groaned in response, he knew this was wrong and he knew she knew it too. He could taste the alcohol on her lips, the taste of tobacco not too far behind. The three guys they arrived with were somewhere in the building, flustered and stuttering over themselves as they attempted to pick up females out of their league. But they were here, wrapped up in each other, guiltily.

He let a wide palm graze up the side of her bare thigh, and snake underneath her short skirt, palming her bare ass cheeks, thankful she wore a thong. He could feel her shiver at the gesture, and he smirked into their kiss. She felt a fire ignite in her stomach, her core ached, and she felt hot. Her own boyfriend had never made her feel the way before, he was always quick and rough, always about self-pleasure and then he'd roll over and go to bed, leaving her to deal with herself.

The fact she was pushed up against a dirty public bathroom stall, legs hooked around her ex-con neighbor while his hands were under her skirt squeezing her ass cheeks, it got her blood flowing, she wanted more. She knew nothing could happen between them though, she was someone's girlfriend, someone who didn't deserve her –but still.

She moaned softly as he nipped her ear, and it was as if something in him erupted, his blue eyes clouded and turned stormy, and he closed the space between their faces. He furiously found her lips, and her moans got louder as he nipped and sucked on her bottom lip. Her core burst into flames as she felt him grinding into her, his erection painfully hard against her soaked thong. She found herself bucking her hips against him, trying to keep up with his rhythm and create more friction between the two, as he explored her neck with his lips and his hands exploring her ass, grabbing fistfuls.

"Fuckin' hell, Kitten," he groaned against her skin.

She felt the build-up in her stomach and threw her head back as he left wet kisses down her neck, to her collarbone, and down to the valley of her breast. Her breathing increased as she felt herself come undone, immediately soaking whatever dry fabric was left of her thong.

The only thing that could be heard was their heavy breathing as he placed her legs back on the ground, and they tried to catch their breath. They shared a look before he opened the stall door and walked out, leaving her to fix herself.

He leaned against the dirty sink and looked at himself through the cracked bathroom mirror. Did he regret anything he did? No. He always lived with no regrets; everything was a lesson. And this? Well, he couldn't stand Kurt, so his conscience was fast asleep. He didn't have feelings for the blonde, he just enjoyed a quick release whenever he needed it.

But you didn't orgasm.

He splashed water on his face at the realization and shook the thought out of his head. It was fun. It was always just fun with her, that was something he liked about her, she didn't get attached like other females. She let him do what he needed, and she was gone. A part of him figured she needed it just as much as him.

Quickly taking a cigarette out of his pocket, he lit it and watched as she exited the stall looking as if she didn't do anything wrong a few minutes ago. She walked up to him, a glint in her eyes as she took the stick from his lips and looked away.

"I would tell you that you gotten better," she smirked and looked at him, "but then I'd be forced to ask how that's possible when you been in jail for the past few months," she exhaled some smoke.

He rolled his eyes at what she was suggesting and pushed off the sink, "I'm not even goin' to entertain that." Her laughter filled the bathroom, the ugly flickering fluorescent lights illuminating her teeth, "did I hit home?"

He fixed her with a look before continuing, "So, Kurt."

She immediately stopped laughing and turned her back to him, he could tell she went rigid and he figured it was the wrong move to mention him after what they just did. Truth be told, they never did anything like that while one of them were in a relationship –well while she was in a relationship, he didn't do relationships. He wasn't sure if it was the pent-up sexual frustration he had while in jail and the lack of sexual release she faced while with Kurt, or if it was just the mood of the club. Either way, he didn't want to speak about it.

He made eye contact with her through the mirror, "I'm talking about the casino," he clarified and immediately saw her shoulders relax.

"I don't know much, Cooper, I just know that some fucking creeps been following me around and I need it to stop," she huffed on the cigarette, her voice sounded tired all of a sudden and he had an urge to just make all her problems ends.

"Do you still…" his voice trailed off.

She didn't know what he was implying so she didn't say anything, because one thing she learned from young was to never offer more information than necessary. She just probed him with a look.

"Do you still work at White Stallion?"

She looked away from him. Before he left six months ago, she was working as a stripper on the weekends at their local strip club. It was rundown and grimy, but the money was consistent, she needed it because rent was raised and waitressing at the Cheesecake Factory wasn't cutting it. Besides, she liked it and it was a good workout. She promised herself it was temporary though; she would find a way out and wouldn't make it a living.

She was still looking for a way out.

He sighed, "Well you should try to cut that down," he shoved his hands into his pockets, "With this people tailing you, they'd have a much better chance of physically touching you at a strip club opposed to a restaurant."

She looked at him as if he had grown two heads, "Are you crazy?" She spun on him, "I need the money, especially since Kurt is running off with my paycheck from the factory."

There was silence, and he was running his hand through his already messy hair, "Fine, maybe I can just come with you when you work," it wasn't a suggestion. She just chuckled before putting the cigarette out, "Now I'm a big girl, Cooper, I don't need no fucking babysitter."

"No," he clipped his eyes narrowed and harsh, "But you do need a bodyguard apparently," his voice left no room for debate.

She just stared him down, before she could reply the door was pushed open roughly and a head of dark curls came through, he chuckled lightly before pushing his glasses up on his face. He fidgeted with his fingers before he looked between his roommate and his neighbor, both staring each other down with intense gazes. He cleared his throat and got their attention.

"There you are," he smiled at the blonde, "I was looking everywhere for you out there."

She paused for a moment before bringing her eyes to the shorter man, "Well, here I am."

He only then took in his surroundings and his face got further confused, "Wait, why are you in the men's bathroom—" he cut himself off, "You know what, I don't want to know. Do I?" He looked at his roommate, who only gave him a narrowed eye look that intimidated him.

He pushed his glasses further up on his face before nodding, "Well, I just wanted to know if you wanted to dance with me? One song?" He looked hopeful, and honestly, she needed a distraction from their conversation, so she just nodded her head before following him out of the door. She stopped before it closed and looked back at the taller man.

"Thanks, Cooper."

"And where the fuck have you been?" His voice boomed throughout her apartment.

She sighed deeply before placing her keys down, "I was out with some friends, Kurt, honestly I've had such a rough night can we not argue tonight?"

His laugh was loud and came from his stomach, his breath smelled like beer and she knew he had been drinking a ridiculous amount that night. He was in a bad mood and it was obvious. He got in her face and narrowed his eyes at her, as if trying to pick her apart. "Out where?"

"I went out dancing."

"Oh, you mean out bein' a whore? Like always! Whenever I turn my damn back, you're always all over another man!" The sound of skin-to-skin contact pierced the apartment walls and she gasped at what she had done. She didn't mean to slap him, but he had been talking so terribly about her, she couldn't take it anymore.

She saw the change happen before her eyes, his shock turned to anger, and he threw the half empty beer bottle across the room, it shattered, and shards of glass and liquid flew everywhere. He quickly gripped her wrist and brought her into his body, "What the fuck did you just do?" He shouted.

She tried her hardest to pull away from him, but his grip only tightened. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to I don't—"

She didn't finish her sentence because he raised his hand to her face and she flew back into the closed apartment door, the doorknob ramming into her lower spine, she cringed and doubled over in pain. "I'm sorry, Kurt!" She shouted.

"I go out tonight and have a terrible night, I didn't win no type of money and I wanna come home to a loving girlfriend but no! She's out whoring herself out to the city, and when she comes home, she fuckin' slaps me?! Instead of gettin' in the bedroom and fuckin' me like a good woman, you slap me?!"

He grips her shoulder tightly and pulls her up, "You ain't about to waste my time, woman, get in the fuckin' bedroom," he seethes, "You better fuckin' please me all night," his hand is around her neck and he's squeezing. He could see the tears in her eyes, but it only fuels him further.

He's about to teach her a lesson.