He's a Wh0re

VI

With a coach now refereeing the match, she felt a bit more secure, though every nerve was on high alert. Coach Gab called for the start, and they faced off in the ring, locked in each other’s gazes.

Stay focused, Emmie, she told herself. Abe’s smirk was infuriating, and he had the audacity to wink. She seized her moment, throwing a punch, which he easily deflected. Another swing, and he dodged again, clearly toying with her.

She was persistent, though, and on her third swing, he dodged and landed a punch to her abdomen, sending a shock of pain through her. She gasped, glaring as he smirked, looking down at her like she was a fly he could swat away. It was enough to make her blood boil.

Fine, she thought. Let’s play.

Ignoring the pain, she threw herself back into the fight. But then he landed a second blow, this time to her face. The impact left her momentarily dazed, and she hit the mat, realizing he was no gentleman.

You really thought he’d take it easy?

“Get up,” he said icily.

“Your punches feel weak,” she taunted, ignoring his hand as she got up. They squared off again, and this time she waited, watching his movements. He attacked, but she dodged, then kicked his leg and sent a punch to his jaw, leaving him momentarily off balance.

He’s tougher than he looks, he thought, secretly admiring her tenacity. She’s not one to underestimate.

Coach Gab gave them a quick break, and as Emmie gulped down water, Abe couldn’t help but notice her intensity. Even in oversized clothes, she looked… cute, somehow. Fierce.

“Looks like you’re getting soft,” Gab teased, patting Abe on the shoulder. Abe shrugged, smirking.

“I’m just taking it easy on her.”

Emmie shot him a sharp look, fire in her eyes.

When Gab called them back to the ring, Emmie braced herself, but Abe seemed to have other plans. He threw a punch at her head, which she dodged, but she found herself in his grip, her arms pinned, his muscular frame pressing against her back. She froze.

HIS

Abe took a breath, catching the scent of her hair—honey and vanilla, soft but impossible to ignore. She snapped to, elbows out, breaking free of his hold and turning around, off balance but determined. But she moved too quickly, and the next thing she knew, she’d tumbled backward, Abe catching her mid-fall, hovering over her as she lay on the mat.

For a moment, they just stared at each other, his steel-gray eyes locked onto hers. He noticed, really noticed, the hint of freckles across her cheeks, the way her lips parted slightly as she breathed. His gaze lingered, dropping to her mouth.

“Enjoying yourself?” he murmured, his voice low, lips barely twitching into a smirk.

Suddenly, her fist shot out, connecting with his face. Surprised, he fell back, and now it was Emmie who had him pinned, straddling him, holding his wrists firmly to the mat.

Gab’s count faded into the background as she sat there, feeling him beneath her, feeling his heartbeat thumping against her thigh. His gaze was dark, intent, his lips curling into that irritatingly sexy smile. Her pulse raced, a warmth flooding through her that she struggled to ignore.

“Guess I win,” she said, flashing a smile at Gab and getting up quickly, trying to shake off the sudden rush of feelings. Abe just lay there, one hand resting over his heart, chuckling as he watched her walk away.

“Well,” Gab said, taking a seat next to him, laughing, “looks like you just got beat by a ‘little girl.’"

Abe grinned, still watching her retreat. She was something else—different from anyone he’d ever met, and certainly not someone he’d forget anytime soon.

Emmie wakes as Abe approaches her, wrapping his arms around her waist. She gasps when he pulls her closer, kissing her deeply.

She welcomes his touch, wrapping her arms around his neck, feeling the heat building inside her. Lost in the moment, she doesn’t notice how she’s pressed against the wall until his hand slips beneath her skirt, teasing her wetness. His tongue dances with hers as he pushes a finger inside her, followed by another. The pleasure is overwhelming.

As he devours her breasts, she moans softly, his gentle bites sending shivers through her. Emmie lies on the kitchen table, feeling delirious as he teases her with his heat. Doubts flash through her mind about whether he’ll fit, but he enters her in one swift motion.

She cries out in a mix of pain and pleasure, urging him to go faster, to not stop, but suddenly, he freezes.

Confused, she tries to see his face, but it fades into smoke. Panic grips her as she twists her body, disbelieving what she sees. A loud alarm blares, jolting her awake.

“What kind of foolish dream was that?” she mutters, slapping her face. “I can’t be attracted to that man! He’s a w***e!” She shakes her head, still feeling the lingering effects of the dream.

At the store:

Rolling her cart of supplies through the store, she tries to shake off the lingering frustration. Passing a mirror, she catches a glimpse of herself—a woman with round brown eyes and a simple, plain appearance. She's not wearing her disguise now and her braces are finally off. In her eyes, she looks beautiful but not as attractive as those actresses that Abe works with. She stared at herself longer in the mirror and touched her lips, remembering her dream last night. And her face turns pink as she vividly remembers what she had done to herself for release. She meets her own gaze in the mirror and lightly slaps her face.

She scoffs, knowing someone like Abe wouldn’t be interested in her.

“Excuse me...” a beautiful blonde woman interrupts, and Emmie steps aside, forcing a smile.

At the counter, she notices women gawking at someone familiar. Her heart sinks as she realizes it’s Abe, the man from her dream, drawing attention from the cashiers and other customers. The queue is painfully slow, and Emmie’s frustration builds as she watches the scene unfold.

“Excuse me,” she finally interrupts, trying to get the cashier’s attention. “He doesn’t date women outside of work. If you’re interested, Quoro is hiring.” She hands the cashier a card, forcing a smile despite the dagger looks she feels from the other women.

As she leaves, Emmie feels eyes on her but doesn’t dare look back. After a moment, her phone rings, displaying his name. She turns it off, resisting the urge to connect with him. Just then, a tall, handsome man approaches, handing her a fifty-dollar bill she didn’t realize she dropped.

“Thanks,” she blushes, embarrassed. He smiles, and she can’t help but feel drawn to him before hurrying away, her heart racing.

Abe, meanwhile, has noticed Emmie, but she looks very different now and doesn't look messy. Or maybe she's not her, but he never met this woman before. Why does she have a card from Quro? He can't shake the feeling that he’s seen her before and follows her in his car, intrigued. He recalls her unique presence and decides to learn more about her.

On the other hand, Pamela, feeling a void without Abe, reflects on how different he is from other men. She craves him, wanting to break through his aloofness and satisfy her desires, her hand moving down her body as she fantasizes about him.