THORNS IN MY HEART (SEX, LIES AND HEARTACHES)

CHAPTER 1

WILL YOU MARRY ME WYN?

Wynter burst out of the warehouse, gasping for air as the cool night breeze hit her face. The long hours of moving boxes had taken a toll on her body. Her chest constricted, and she reached for her inhaler, taking a quick puff. The relief was temporary, and her body still ached. She leaned against a car in the parking lot, scanning the dimly lit area for a place to sit. Spotting a lone bench, she made her way over, her legs feeling unsteady. As she passed the first row of cars, she heard a low, guttural sound. It sent a shiver down her spine, and she hesitated, curiosity getting the better of her.

Wynter crept closer, the rhythmic grunts and moans growing louder. Peeking around the corner of a van, her breath caught in her throat. There they were-middle aged man charastic man whom she guessed he's probably in his early twenties and a lady, her body pressed against the side of a car, their bodies moving in a frantic, unrelenting rhythm, as he thrusts heavily from behind, his hands gripping her hips firmly.

He was big, his thick skin tonned, his muscles rippling under the pale glow of a streetlight, his hands gripping the woman's hips as he drove his dick into her with a force that made the car shake. The lady's back arched, her nails digging into the car's roof, her cries sharp and unrestrained.

Her stomach twisted, a mix of shock, embarrassment, and something else she couldn't quite name. She couldn't look away. The man's movements were hypnotic, each thrust deliberate, powerful, almost possessive. The woman's moans grew louder, more desperate, until they were almost screams. Her body quivered, her legs wrapping around his waist as he pressed her harder against the car, staring at what was in front of her, her mind, soul and body was fixed into it.

Wynter wanted to leave, but her legs, couldn't move, she couldn't even take a step, backwards, and she knew they were not even supposed to see her there, she couldn't take the embarrassment. Wynter's heart pounded in her chest, her own breath quickening. She felt wrong watching, but her feet were rooted to the spot. The man's head tilted back, a low growl escaping his lips, and the woman's cries reached a fever pitch. It was raw, primal, and utterly intoxicating.

Then, the woman's eyes snapped open, locking onto her. "What the hell are you looking at, bitch?" she snarled, her voice sharp enough to make her flinch. The man's head turned, his piercing gaze meeting hers, and she felt her face flush with heat.

She stumbled back, her feet slipping on the asphalt. "I-I wasn't-" she stammered, but the woman's glare silenced her. Turning on her heel, she bolted, her chest burning as she ran. Her mind raced, the image of the man's muscular frame and the woman's ecstasy etched into her brain. She felt ashamed, but beneath the shame was something darker, something hungry.

Wynter ducked behind a row of cars, her back pressed against the cold metal, trying to catch her breath. Her hands shook as she buried her face in them, trying to erase the scene from her mind. But it was no use. The man's face-his eyes, his body, the way he moved-was all she could think about. He was beautiful, like something out of a fantasy, and the thought of him with her sent a pang of jealousy shooting through her chest.

She took a deep breath, attempting to calm the whirlwind of emotions swirling within her. "What am I doing?" she scolded herself, her inner voice laced with frustration. "I don't even know him! I'm being utterly ridiculous!" She reminded herself of the strong, independent woman she was – unshaken and unbreakable. No man would ever look down on her, and she certainly wouldn't allow herself to be drawn to someone so easily.

Yet, the nagging voice in the back of her mind persisted, refusing to let go. "What if you see him again? What if he looks at you like that?" Her heart skipped a beat at the mere thought, and she shook her head, trying to dispel the fluttering sensations. "Get a grip," she told herself firmly. "I need to go home, forget this ever happened."

As she stepped out from behind the cars, her eyes involuntarily darted toward the row where she'd last seen him. The car was still there, but the two of them were gone. She swallowed hard, a strange mixture of relief and disappointment settling in her chest. "Good," she thought. "It's over. Move on."

Her mind was a jumble of conflicting emotions – excitement, embarrassment, and a hint of curiosity. She couldn't shake the feeling that a part of her was still searching for him, wondering if their paths would cross again. The uncertainty was both thrilling and terrifying, leaving her breathless and bewildered.

As she turned to leave, she caught a glimpse of herself in a nearby window reflection. For a moment, she stared at the stranger staring back – a woman with a mix of emotions etched on her face, her eyes sparkling with a hint of adventure. She took another deep breath, the cool air filling her lungs, and slowly let it out. It was time to move on, to leave the encounter behind and focus on the present.

But as she walked away, she couldn't help but wonder – what if?

•

Wynter flopped onto her bed, stretching her muscles and staring at the ceiling. The silence was deafening, a stark contrast to the vibrant life she'd once known. Her gaze drifted to her phone, where she spotted a dating app she'd never downloaded. "When did I get this?" she wondered aloud. Memories flooded back – a colleague had borrowed her phone, and now she had a slew of messages from some guy called Black Bird.

Wynter's curiosity got the better of her, and she opened the messages. The guy was being super creepy, calling her "cutie" and asking to get to know her. She rolled her eyes and shot back a response, annoyed. "What's your deal, dude?" She added an irritated sticker for good measure.

Just as she was about to put her phone away, he replied. "My deal is you, baby... What's your name?" Wynter scoffed. "My name's Wynter Bliss, and that's more reason to back off, dude!"

The guy's response made her jaw drop. "I love girls like you; they're the cutest." Wynter was fuming. "Girls like me? He's been with tons of ladies!" She warned him to stay away, but he just asked how much she charged per night. Wynter's eyes nearly popped out of her head. "What? How much for a night?!"She couldn't believe this guy, he was getting off her nerves.

A wicked grin spread across her face as she replied, "Why don't we discuss this over lunch tomorrow, sir?" The guy responded immediately, sending her a location – an upscale restaurant in the city. Wynter's expression darkened. "Now I hate you more... How dare you flaunt your wealth?!"She balled her fist, promising herself to show him what exactly she's made off.

•

Malvern sighed deeply, he just arrived at the supposed restaurant, where he was supposed to met his new bitch, and off course he doesn't know what she looked like, but he hope it's a good one, reaching out for the car door handle it was cold under his palm, the metallic chill biting into his skin as he gripped it tightly.

But as he twisted the handle, ready to step out into the night, a sudden heat flared in his gut, sharp and undeniable. His breath hitched, his pulse quickening.

"No, Not now!" He squeezed his eyes shut, his hand trembling on the door. The familiar itch crawled up his spine, burning through his veins.

"I can't. I can't do this." He pulled his hand away from the door like it had burned him, his body already betraying him. His mind raced, his thoughts jumbled and frantic." I need... I need..."

He moved backwards, resting his back on his seat, his breathing shallow. His heart pounded in his chest, the sound deafening in the silence. He definitely know he can't go out like this, he knew fully well he won't make it into the restaurant. He clawed at the collar of his shirt, the fabric suddenly too tight, too suffocating. His skin felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending screaming for relief. God, I need it. I need... something."

His toys were not in the car, he had left it back home, The calming pills he'd been prescribed were sitting uselessly on his nightstand, forgotten in his rush to get ready." Stupid... So fucking stupid." He cursed under his breath, his desperation growing by the second.

He felt his legs trembling. His hands were shaking, his palms slick with sweat. He have no choice. "I have to... I have to do it myself."He scoffed.

The thought made his stomach twist with shame, but the ache in his body was too much to ignore. It was like a wildfire, spreading faster than he could control. His pulse thrummed in his ears, his body demanding release.

He grabbed a bottle of K-Y jelly from shelves his fingers fumbling with his hardened cap. The familiar scent hit him, sharp and clean, and he nearly groaned. "Fuck....This is it."He grunt. pouring a slick pool into his palm, the cool liquid sending a shiver down his spine. His breath came in short, ragged gasps as he reached down, his fingers brushing against the hard length straining against his pants.

His hips bucked involuntarily, a low moan escaping his lips." Yes. Yes, God, yes." He worked the oil into his skin, the slick warmth sending jolts of pleasure through him. His hand moved faster, his grip tightening as the tension in his body coiled tighter and tighter. His mind was a haze of heat and need, every thought blurred except for one: more.

The car and surroundings was silent except for the sound of his breathing, harsh and uneven, and the slick slide of his hand. His head fell back against the couch, his eyes squeezed shut.He tried to think of something to smoothen his thoughts, but he couldn't think of any.

The fantasy burned through him, his body writhing under his own touch. "Fuck....yeah"He garps.

His pace quickened, his body tensing as the heat built inside him. His breath caught in his throat, a strangled sound escaping his lips." I'm so close, So close"He groaned , his palms, rubbing his cap intensively as he felt his organsms. His hips jerked, his hand moving frantically. And then, with a shuddering gasp, he came undone, his white cum, shooting up, splitering all over the driver wheel.

He collapsed back against the seat, his chest heaving. The car felt too small, too hot, the air thick with the scent of him. His heart pounded in his chest, his body trembling with the Caughting his breath, he reached out for the tissue tearing out some pieces, he cleaned up the wheels, tossing it off the wastebin as he cleaned up himself.

This wasn't the first time he was doing this, but it felt strange, staring outside his mind buzzing with thought of give lady he was going to meet inside, at least, he was gonna add to his count tonight.

He forced himself to his feet, his legs unsteady beneath him. His shirt was wrinkled, his pants still slightly open. He fumbled with the zipper, his hands firm. He had to go, he had already waste Alot of time, getting off the car, he arranged himself .

He walked into the restaurant, preoccupied with the blind date he was about to meet. Wynter or whatever he didn't really register on his radar. He'd agreed to meet her only to satisfy his own desires, not expecting anything meaningful.

As he entered, a waitress welcomed him. "Nice to have you here, sir. Did you book a seat or just walk in?" He cleared his throat. "I booked a seat. It's Number 35."

The waitress smiled. "That's your seat, right behind you. Your date is already waiting for you." He followed her gaze and locked eyes with Wynter. She sat with her back straight, her long brown hair cascading down. Her bright blue eyes sparkled as she sipped her drink.

Time stood still as he took in the sight of her. His feet seemed to move on their own, drawing him closer. The waiter's voice faded into the background as he approached Wynter's table. His heart pounded, and his palms grew sweaty. He felt an overwhelming urge to claim her.

Without thinking, he grasped her hand, his fingers wrapping around hers firmly. Wynter's eyes widened in surprise. "Will you marry me, Wyn?" he asked, his voice low and husky.