Double Daddies Temptation

Chapter One 

Abby Hale

~•~

"Ugh, you're so good!" 

"Fuck!" 

"Say my name, baby!" 

"Michael." 

I pressed my ear against the door of my bedroom which I shared with my boyfriend. I didn't even flinch as I heard him fucking another woman in the same bed we slept every night. 

It wasn't the first time it had happened. 

I was exhausted and drained, mentally, emotionally, and physically. He had made me cry so much that it felt like my tear duct had stopped working, 

I had clocked out of the relationship a long time ago, but I loved him too much and couldn't bring myself to leave him. 

Yes, I was dumb. 

But this was his last straw. 

He had cheated on me countless times, but he never brought the girls home. Maybe he was also tired of the relationship and wanted me to catch him red-handed. 

As I stood outside, I contemplated opening the door or turning around to leave. After a while, I just pushed the door open without thinking further. 

I wasn't prepared for what I saw next as I stepped inside the room. "Jesus Christ!" I exclaimed, my eyes wide in shock. 

My boyfriend wasn't sleeping with just any random person, it was my fucking best friend. 

It felt like I had been stabbed with a sharp knife. 

Their bodies tangled effortlessly in the sheets, like it wasn't their first time, like it was normal for them. 

When they heard my voice, they both froze and turned around to look at me. My best friend, Cora, couldn't even maintain my gaze. 

But Michael? He had a mischievous smirk plastered across his face. He pushed the blanket from his body and sat on the edge of the bed. 

"You've finally caught us... she fucks better than you though," he said with a mocking chuckle. 

How did I even date such an asshole for over a year? 

Cora whimpered behind him as she tried to cover her naked body with the sheets. "I'm... I-I'm so sorry. Abby... I didn't mean, I'm...," she stuttered as she tried to come up with a lame apology. 

I still couldn't believe what I'd just seen. 

Cora? The same person I used to talk to about everything in my life? About my relationship issues? The same person who always advised me to leave Michael because I deserve someone better? 

I just let out a bitter scoff. 

I didn't respond to any of them.

After walking into the closet and grabbing a new pair of clothes, I took one last glance at them before storming out of the room. 

Cora had a guilty expression, but Michael had a satisfied expression. Even though I acted like I didn't care, my heart was actually shattered into a million tiny pieces. 

I had a shower in the guest bathroom and changed out of my work clothes. Then I made my way to my car and drove to the nearest bar. 

After what I'd just witnessed, I needed an insane amount of alcohol, enough to silence every thought, every memory, and every stupid feeling that still clung to him. 

The bar was dimly lit and I was grateful that it wasn't packed. I honestly couldn't deal with a lot of people around me. 

I just wanted to be alone, drinking away my problems. 

"Give me the strongest drink you have here," I muttered to the bartender as I ran my hand through my scattered red hair. 

He nodded with a small smile. "Sure, coming right up." 

A few minutes later, he slid a glass in front of me. The smell alone made my chest tighten but I didn't hesitate. 

I tipped my head backward and swallowed it in one go. The burn was sharp and violent, but I didn't care. 

"Another one, please," I said to the bartender, my voice sounding steadier than I felt. 

"Rough night, huh?" He asked as he refilled the glass. 

I scoffed. "You have no idea." 

Soon enough, I was on my fourth round. My head was already feeling light and I was starting to become dizzy.

I asked for another round and he passed it to me, but before I could take it, someone else beat me to it. 

My face formed into a frown. 

And I turned around slowly to see who had the audacity to take my drink. 

A man stood there, tall, with broad shoulders, messy dark hair, and a sharp jaw line. He looked breathtaking but I didn't care about his looks. 

I just wanted to understand why he would take my drink away from me. 

His eyes were fixed on me as he took a slow and deliberate sip from the glass. My glass! 

But before I could open my mouth to confront him, he spoke. "Five shots in a row? You must be really trying hard to forget something." 

I blinked. "Are you insane? Have you been watching me since I came into the bar?" 

He nodded casually like it was a totally normal thing to do. "Yes... Some people do say I'm insane," he replied as he sat down on the empty stool beside me. 

I snatched my glass from him, not caring that he had already taken a sip from it. I turned around and drank all of them at a go, then I dropped the glass aggressively on the table. 

My fingers trembled as I rummaged through my purse to find a few dollar bills. But before I could pay the bartender, the strange man had already slid a hundred-dollar bill and asked him to keep the change. 

I raised my eyebrow at him. "What is wrong with you? I can pay my bills by myself." I threw the dollar bills at the bartender and stood up from the bench. 

But before I could walk away, the strange man held me, his grip firm. "Please, stay..." he murmured under his breath. 

"And why should I listen to you?" 

He exhaled sharply. "Because you look like you need someone to talk to about your problems... and maybe even fuck." 

I blinked at him, startled by the bluntness of his words. "Let me guess, you're a rich boy, probably living off your parents' money, and you think you can get any girl you want?" 

He shook his head, letting go of my arm slowly. "No, you're wrong. But this isn't about me, I just want to make you feel better." 

"Make me feel better? You don't even know me." 

"Yeah, I don't know you. But I know when someone is really heartbroken and yours seems so... fresh." 

I swallowed hard. 

He was right. But I didn't want him to be right. 

Maybe talking to a stranger about my problems wasn't the worst idea. I pushed my hair backward and stared at him for a long second. 

He shifted closer, his knee brushing mine lightly. And then, his finger traced a slow line across the back of my hand. 

A spark shot through me instantly and my breath hitched. I didn't know if it was the alcohol, the heartbreak, or just him. 

But that single touch made my pussy throb with sudden heat, shameful and desperate. 

Maybe having sex with a stranger on the day I got my heart broken wasn't also a bad idea. 

I was one step from falling entirely into the hands of a man I didn't know.