Part 2 of "I Wasn't Horny Until He Touched Me." This is where Stella can't hold her hormones. If you missed how Damien got to her, read the first part (it is titled I Wasn't Horny Before He Touched Me)
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I was seventeen when I lost Mom to a drive-by. Then, I dropped out of high school and my life became a routine of work, alcohol, and sex. I love it that way though.
Cheesy Matt sees my daylight, and my nights are either at a house party or a nightclub. And there isn't a building in Compton I don't have a friend in.
Gangsters and Crime Lords, decent and crooked cops, drug dealers and pharmacists. Heck, I've bouncers, pimps, and vigilantes on my cell.
You name it.
I don't mess with people. But if you mess with me, there's a long queue of horny guys ready to fuck you up. Willing to do anything for a night with me.
But that never happens, at least not until last night.
They say being a witness is the fastest track to being dead in Compton. So, why am I not dead?
Okay, I'll say it properly.
Damien had me in his claws and I couldn't sleep. He had me so heated up and wet - heck I had an orgasm just cause he choked me.
He had me so horny that I begged him.
And all he did was touch me... I can still feel it, you know?
His firm hold on my neck, the prickle of the knife on my skin. Gosh, I can't stop thinking about it...
"STELLA...!"
Bryce's voice snapped me out of my daydream and I startled out of order.
"What the hell is wrong with you!?" Bryce yelled, being the typical jerk that he is and Cheesy Matt manager.
But I can't seem to remember what I am supposed to be doing.
"Why is she...? Oh my God, why the fuck is she still standing there?" He said, exasperated. "Get your fucking ass. Out there. RIGHT NOW!"
Oh right.
It's lunch rush at Cheesy Matt and I am supposed to be waiting on ten tables. Not daydreaming about how Damian handled me like a real man.
Damnit, I shouldn't be thinking about that...
"STELLA!"
Bryce's voice snaps my attention back again and I realize I'm zoning off. I quickly pick up my tray from the counter, pace out of the kitchen, and move through the bristling restaurant floor to serve my tables.
As usual, most of them are filled with my wannabe boyfriends while the rest are just regular patrons.
And yes, none could help but check me out.
I'm petite, but I command attention.
If my swinging blonde ponytails, high cheekbones, and pout lips don't do the job, my swaying hips always do. I may be a 5ft 4" petite girl, but I have the figure to compliment.
Long legs with juicy thighs, and a tight waist that highlights my curvy hips. And a firm C-cup that never ceases to get attention. Especially on days like today when I'm wearing a thin strap low neckline singlet.
Okay fine, I love it when they drool on me. Particularly the guys dining with their girlfriends.
You can say I'm the 'make your girlfriend mad' kind of hot girl.
So why the hell didn't Damien drool over me? I am smoking hot. Hell, I was naked in front of him last night, and yet I was the one... Ah fuck, I really need a smoke.
The lunch rush lasted until 3:30 before everything died down to one customer, Old Jon. Fortunately for me, he's not sitting at my table.
"Hey girl," I turn to see Charlie carrying a tray of leftovers and dirty dishes to the kitchen.
"You going on your break already?"
"Yeah, Imma take a smoke out back. Want some?"
"I wish," She rolled her eyes, turning around to look at Old Jon tentatively poking at... He probably ordered lasagna again.
"If only I could shove the damn thing down his throat?" She said, eyeing the old man with hostility.
"You should just seduce him into swallowing the whole thing. After all, you're the sexy goddess, right?" I said with a mocking grin and Charlie tossed a half-eaten hotdog at me. I barely dodged it but her voice followed me out the back door,
"Fuck you, bitch!"
Honestly, though, I hate it when Old Jon orders lasagna. It's even worse when he just stares at the menu without ordering anything.
If he was sitting at my table, I would have stuck a fucking knife up his throat. Ahh damnit, now I'm thinking of Damien again.
I pop a cigarette in my mouth and light it up. Puffing clouds of smoke into the air as I cross the backyard of the restaurant. Subconsciously going to the back alley... The beginning of the frustrating tingles in my loins.
The Police have tapped off the area, but that's not why I'm staring at the dried blood stains on the wall.
And I'm not even thinking about the men Damien murdered.
...I like you, Stella. And I'd very much like to fuck your brains out...
"So why didn't you do that?" I mumbled under my breath as the phantom feel of Damien's fingers snaked up my thigh.
Sending electric sensations straight to my brain. And the frustrating itch in my pussy keeps getting worse as I imagined him pinning me against the wall and choking the air out of me.
If Ms Deet wasn't in the picture... Even if she is, maybe if I was a little bit less aroused and more resisting. Who knows, maybe he would have actually fucked my brains out.
I bit my lips to stop the moan that threatened me.
"Fuck you, Damien," I said with a soft whisper, balling my fingers into fists so I wouldn't do something stupid in public.
Damn, I didn't even notice when my cigarette slipped from my fingers.
I let out a calming breath but it isn't working, I'm still itching for... Ahh, fuck you, bastard.
"Stella?" The voice startled me.
The first thing that pops into my mind is Ms Deet herself coming to fuck me up for fantasizing about her boyfriend.
But it's just Jace.
"Are you okay?" Jace said with a deep frown, looking at me from head to toe and then again. "You seem different, Stella, are you sure you should be working today?"
I let out a sigh.
Jace is... Well, he's the reigning most dashing homicide detective in Brooklyn PD. And he's head over heels for me. Okay, let me say it properly.
He seems to think I'm wasting my life being a waitress and spending my free time in a bar or with a dick in my pussy - preferably Damien's... Ahh, fuck you, Damien.
Just get the fuck out of my veins, you redheaded hunk.
"Stella?" Jace said again, and it's as if his words transformed my frustration into anger.
"You," I said, getting into his face.
"Where the fuck were you last night, Jace?" I snapped.
And Jace just stared at me with a raised brow as if I was the one being crazy. As if he's not the one that was nowhere to be found last night.
"Do you even have any idea what happened last night?" I asked.
"Of course I do, but I was out of town, I just..."