Hire Purchase

Lynn POV

It was a Friday night. I managed to convince the last customer to take advantage of a sale we had going on with smart TVs. We had a new shipment coming in from China, and the manager, Mr. Baker, insisted that we get the ones on display sold, with a promise of a hefty bonus, which my coworkers and I all wanted. Out of the batch of twenty, I sold four, Tanya sold two, and Floyd was still on zero. My fifth sale was by the counter, talking the Susan, signing documents agreeing to the hire purchase terms and conditions. Honestly, I was skeptical about approaching her because I have a funny way of knowing people without really knowing them if you know what I mean. What I saw when I looked at her was the struggles of a hardworking single mother. There was pain in her eyes, and she was trying hard to keep it together. A requirement for being a sales representative is communication, and I was damn good at it, and while talking to her, she confirmed it. She had six kids, and the father wasn't in the picture. They needed a distraction, so she could work from home. A strong woman if you asked me.

"Thank you," I heard her mumble, trotting away from the counter, glancing over her shoulders, waving to me.

"Bye," I whispered, a faint smile on my face as I wiggled my fingers, pleased that I assisted one last person for the day.

"Well done, motherfuckers." Mr. Brown came out of his office with four white envelopes. "Lynn is leading the race to get the six hundred bucks. The rest of you losers should take a page from her book."

"Mr. B, the race is still kinda early," Floyd chuckled, nudging Tanya on the arm.

"Well, not for you, Floyd. You're still on zero." Mr. Brown handed him an envelope. "In these envelopes are your payments for this week. If you get those TVs off the shelves by Monday, I promise you that your incomes won't be able to be contained in these envelopes," he chuckled, distributing the others.

"Now, go and have a fantastic weekend," he added.

Ripping my check open, I stared down at the hundred dollars notes. Three hundred dollars... the same as last week, the week before, and the week before that. But I kept tearing envelopes apart each week, hoping Mr. Brown would somehow overpay me by accident, or a tip, or anything for a little extra.

"What's wrong, Richmond? While everyone is happy on a Friday evening, you always seem depressed," Tanya inquired, not in a friendly, concerned way, but more mocking. Floyd was in on it.

"I am fine, Tanya. Thanks for asking," I answered. My words were cold with sarcasm because when I said, “thanks for asking” I really meant “you can go fuck yourself.” They both didn't like me for reasons I was unaware of, and this bonus giveaway had turned us into crabs in a barrel.

I started working here six months ago. I saw an ad online about this place, Save Right Appliances and More, so I applied. Mr. Brown called me a week later and told me he liked my resume. He even confessed that he was the manager, not the owner, but he ran the company for the CEO who’d rather stay in the shadows. Since day one, my coworkers had it out for me. They teased that I was sleeping with Mr. Brown, and that was the only reason I got the job. I could assure you; I was not. Unhooking my coat from the rack, I waved goodbye to Susan, who only smiled. She was a sweet girl and a potential friend, but she was afraid to be seen talking to me because of Tanya. With a tight wrap around my waist, I tied the strings on my coat into a knot, pushed the doors of the stores open, and descended into the streets of the city.

This was what I feared every day even though I knew the day must come to an end. Leaving work was more than just leaving work for me; it also meant the mask I wore crumbled, and I had to face who I was—an unhappy, damaged girl. Searching for my phone, I slid the lock screen open, scrolling through the contacts. I didn't want to be alone tonight. I wanted to be held, touched, and loved.

Bringing the phone to my ear, I listened to it ring a few more times, all ending with the same recording at the end.

“Hi, you have reached the voice mailbox of your boy, Frederick Fred Freddy. Please, leave a message.”

"Hey... It's me, Lynn." I paused for a second or more.

"I was wondering if you can come over... I was thinking that we could, you know... Talk, and I'd cook..." I paused again, remembering that I didn't go grocery shopping.

"Forget about that... I mean, we could order something, um," I stuttered.

"Just... Please, call me back okay?" I bumped into someone, knocking the cellphone from my hand, but they just kept on walking as they didn't see me.

"Hey, asshole!" I called out, causing the person to stop in their tracks, veering around to face me.

"Sure, Father. Let me call you right back." He tapped the device connected to his ear.

"You talking to me?" he said.

"Yes," I swallowed hard, "Yes, I am talking to you."

"You bumped into me."

"Because I was distracted. You intentionally knocked me down."

Reaching for me with his fingers, my eyes followed until he touched the edge of my coat. The accident must have loosened it, revealing my uniform and the logo that was stitched to the side.

"Do you know I am?"

"Should I?" I shoved his hand away. "It's no one of class for sure," I mumbled, walking away.

Just around the corner was my apartment, somewhere I’d rather be right now, sipping on a mug of warm chocolate, finishing my latest read, A Mafia's Rescue. Yes, I love reading. Occasionally, I write too, and with this modern-day improvement, I don't have to walk into a bookstore to get a good read. There are several reading apps for that now, Readict being my favorite. Inserting the key, I twisted the doorknob, closing the door softly behind me, and stripped out of my clothes at the doorway. Taking a deep breath, I felt a little sad when I didn't see a message from Fred—disappointed, but not surprised. I didn't know what Fred and I were... fuck buddies, seeing where it goes... I didn't know.

Throwing myself down on the sofa, I opened the reading app, continuing from where I left off. My cheeks felt warmed when I realized what was happening. It was a mature scene between Arlington and Paige. It's amazing how they both eventually came together, making it work even though they were from different sides of society. He was a gangster, and she had a hatred for them.

Biting my lower lip, I trailed my fingers along the hem of my underwear, imagining how it felt to be touched by a man. A man who cared for me... loved me for who I was like Arlington adored Paige. Gliding my hand down my slit, I moaned when I felt how wet I was, the crotch of my undies drenched in my juices. Rubbing my bud in a circular motion, soft whimpers escaped my lips, my lady bits yearning to be devoured and thrust into.

Sinking my fingers into my folds, I moaned lowly, rotating my hips wishing for something lengthier and vaster between my legs, but the greatest tool to have was imagination, and I could only imagine the pleasures of a man's touch.

"Oh, yes," I moaned, each time a little louder than the one before. With back-to-back orgasms, my legs kept trembling, a minor side effect from satisfaction. Clawing my nails in the backrest of the sofa, a feeling of being overwhelmed took over. The soles of my feet were numb, the urge to dig deeper kept growing. I was about to cum again, but this one... this one was different. I could feel from the tip of my toes to the crown of my head.

Rubbing my clit faster, I arched my back. I wanted to cum. I needed to cum; it just would have felt better if someone were doing it for me. I needed someone. Fred was always a no show when I needed him, but soon as he needed me, I took him in with open arms. I was not the most beautiful girl in the world, but I was good looking, and I knew something was out there for me, my soul mate. But for now, I had to wait. Wait for the light kisses he will place on my inner thighs, the flickers of his tongue over my bud, sucking on it like a pacifier. Yeah... I just had to wait.

As thoughts about my future love pervaded my mind, I squirmed in elation, my heart pounded in my chest, and I knew that I was close. Pulling out my fingers, fluid squirted from my core. I wanted someone... anyone.

Unknown POV

"Tell me, son." My father tightened his grip on the golf club. "When are you planning on settling down, finding you a pretty girl, and making some damn grandbabies?" He took a swing, watching the ball disappear into the terrace.

"You know me, Dad." I lined on my club at the tee. "I am a wild guy."

"So I have read," he mumbled, watching me as I took a swing,.

"Some women... They never want us for who we are but what we have and can give." I adjusted the firearm on my waist.

"Not every woman. Look at your stepmom, Lilith. She has been good to me."

No, Dad, you're wrong. Lilith was one of those women that only liked men for what they could offer her, and you fell right into her trap. Wasn't the name enough, Day? Lilith? Like, seriously, that woman is the fucking devil in disguise.

"I am sure she is." I rolled my eyes in annoyance, admiring the view.

"She has even advised me to be a bit sterner with you."

Of course, she did.

"I mean, son... I am getting old, and I can't be taking care of you your whole life. It's time for you to take some responsibility. Own up to your shit."

I knew exactly where this conversation was going, and I didn't want to hear another word of it.

"Look, Dad," I stuttered, "I have a business that's going well. I am planning on capitalizing more branches, and I-I just cannot be focusing on a relationship right now. When we reach that bridge, we will cross it."

"Can't do, son," he turned to leave, with me ambling behind him.

"You need to show me that you're at least capable of holding down a woman."

Like Lilith? The only place that witch needs to be held down is underwater, I thought.

"Do this for me for more than six months. Get married, even; that would make me happy before I die. But I will have to cut you off and cut you out of the will. This business you kept talking about; what is it?"

"Dad, it's a—"

"Honey," Lilith called out from the doorway, interrupting our conversation.

"Lunch is ready. Come on."

What did my father do to deserve such a witch as Lilith Saunders and her gold-digging daughter, Stefanie. It all started after my father cheated with one of the maids. It wasn't a one-time thing; it was constant cheating, and my mother knew. She woke up day, sent me to school, told the chefs to take the day off, and made him breakfast, his favorite. And when he sat there, he was enjoying breakfast that was made by his wife, only for her to pull out divorce papers. Her mind was made up, and she had probably planned it for months. Her signature was already on every sheet. And even when he wiped his hands and the corners of his mouth, she kept on eating because when a woman is tired of your bullshit, she is really tired.

When we were poor and living in the apartment, Dad was humble. But when he got rich, things got bad. Leading up to my mom’s diagnosis with cancer, my dad started drinking, and I became a rebellious teenager. But it was her funeral that made him wake up and finally smell the coffee. He realized he was a shitty parent, and things got good for a while. Then he met Lilith.

"Oh, you’re here." She glared at me, eyes filled with scorn and disgust.

"Yes, Lilith... I am here." I walked up the steps, following closely behind my father.

"Oh, it's because you didn't call. You should call, you know, before you visit. You can't just pop up here."

"It is my father's house, Lilith. I can visit him whenever I want."

Saying nothing, she walked away, upset that my father didn't rush to her defense.

"Dad, I have to go. I will call you, okay?"

"Next time I see you, you should have a girl clinging on to those arms, boy."

"Not sure I am going to find a girl by next week," I chuckled.

"I am serious about cutting you off if you don't find a girlfriend or wife and settle down."

"Right, see you later, old man," I patted him on the shoulder before walking away to the parking lot where my car was.

"Big brother." I rolled my eyes at her voice, squeezing the keys tighter in my palm.

"Technically, we are not siblings, Stefanie. Your mother is just fucking my dad... And when he gets tired of it, all of this," I pointed my finger at me then her, "will end, and we will be back to being strangers,"

"Funny you say a thing like 'gets tired.' I am wondering if you're talking from experience. He did get tired of you and your mother. The only thing is my mother is smarter. Oh, and I should tell you Dad is planning on cutting you off until you can prove you're somewhat reliable. If you can prove it."

Staring at her, a million feelings coursed through my veins, mostly anger. And I couldn't do anything about it because they had my dad wrapped around their fucking fingers, and I had to just wait it out.

"Guess we will see." I opened my car door.

"And why do you keep wearing those dollar store clothes? You broke?"

Saying nothing, I slid across the car's interior. Bringing the engine to life, I left.

I didn't want to go home; in fact, I needed a fucking drink or ten. Pulling up to this local bar, I parked my car out front, looking around as soon as I was inside. It was empty. I guess the regulars were all at work.

"No fucking way." The bartender clicked her tongue from across the room. Tattoos trailed up her arms like sleeves, a few small but visible ones on her face, and she had a lip piercing, which was probably a clip-on. She wasn't the ideal type of woman; she was pretty, no doubt about that, but attractive... no, not to me.

"What's a fucking rich kid doing in a bar," she continued.

"What everyone else came here to do... drink." I walked towards the counter.

"Almost didn't recognize you. Are all your suits at the laundry? I’m Sally, by the way."

"Nice to meet you, Sally. I am—"

"Oh, I know you... Everyone knows you." She leaned in closer, licking her lips as she sucked seductively on a lollipop.

"Give me a shot of gin." I smiled. See, Dad, women only date you for what you can give them, and right now, I could tell that Sally wanted a piece of me.

Setting the glass down on the counter, I slid her ten bucks.

"It's only five dollars."

"Take it... Take the rest as a tip or whatever."

"So, you're not only cute and rich," she continued sucking on the lollipop, "you're kind too."

Chugging down the drink, I groaned when it burned my chest, amused that she knew who I was and proceeded to flirt with me.

"Give me another," I kept my eyes fixed on her, "and drink something, anything. It's on me."

It was rude not to offer at first, but I only wanted to grab a drink and drive wherever life took me, but here I was alone with a woman I deemed as unattractive at first, but now she was looking quite desirable. I guess the gin was finally kicking in.

"You know, men like you... don’t go for girls like me." She took an empty glass from the shelf and poured the liquid into my glass first, then hers.

"But, here you are, having a drink with me." She placed the bottle down, hoisting her cup.

"A toast?" I raised my eyebrow. "To what?"

"I know the only reason you are probably here is because you are going through some shit. I used to go through shit every day, the kind of stress that made me drink every day."

"So, you got through it? Stopped drinking?"

"Who said anything about stopping drinking? I work in a bar. I now have liquor any time I want. Welcome to the real world, pretty boy." She clinked her glass against mine.

I said nothing. I drank it all down—the gin, my problems—only for them to resurface at the back of my throat.

"You know what else is good for stress." She clasped her palm over my hold on the glass.

"Sex," she whispered. Her face was close... too close.

"Are you extremely stressed, Mr. Millionaire?"

"Without a doubt." My lips brushed against hers.

Retreating behind the counter, she glanced at me over her shoulder, making her way to a door at the corner of the bar. I didn't know if I should follow her or not, but I wanted to.

Standing from the stool, I ambled towards the door, pushing it open. I found her naked, pinching her nipples while staring at me. Not surprisingly, she had more tattoos all over her body, but that didn't matter now, did it? Looking around, I noticed it was a small changing room, most likely for the bartenders who come and go.

"Are you just going to stand there, rich kid, or are you going to fuck me?"

Reaching for her throat, I kicked the door shut behind me. Swerving her around, I braced her face against it, my cock throbbing in my pants wanting to come out and play. Pulling down my zipper, I slipped on a condom and parted her ass cheeks.

"Fuck me," she begged. "Come on."

Thrusting into her, she let out a sharp gasp, moaning as I pounded into her pussy. The deeper I went I felt her walls opening up around my shaft.

"So fucking tight," I moaned. Just how I like it.

Her whimpers filled the air, along with our body slaps and the moisture from her core. It was so wet, similar to the sounds of mac and cheese in a mixing bowl.

"Fuck," I moaned out. I was close. I could feel it rushing from my scrotum, traveling up my shaft.

"I am close." I began to thrust into her harder. "I am so fucking close."

Taking a deep breath while my dick was still pulsating in her, I pulled out, removed the condom, and grabbed a sheet of the hand towels to clean the tip of my dick before stuffing it back into my pants.

"I guess you do live up to your reputation," she giggled.

Unfortunately, I thought.

"So... I was thinking." She waddled over to where I stood; her knees were surely weak from that all pleasure.

"Maybe we should hang out sometime."

Chuckling under my breath, I cupped her cheeks, staring into her eyes.

"Remember what you said earlier?"

"What?"

"Guys like me... don't go for girls like you." I kissed her on the cheek before ambling out. That's one more on the list of bars I couldn't show my face in for a while.