Echoes Of A Hardened Heart

After leaving the club with his friends, Troy drove halfway home before pulling over on a quiet road where no one was around. His car idled in the dark as he and the woman beside him shared an intense, fleeting moment. She made her hand through his cargo pants, brought out his dick with her eyes focused on his as she bent her head down and began a blow job. Afterwards she made her way to the driver's sit, took her gown up shifted the g-string she wore, sat on his dick and gave a slow ride as they both began to moan lowly, she then made the ride faster while his hands were wrapped around her waist. 

A few minutes later, the quiet night was broken by soft whispers and low moans as they lost themselves in each other, hidden in the stillness of the deserted road. Soon, they began dressing, her fingers brushing against his as she adjusted her shirt. Troy stepped out of the car to dispose of the condom. Turning around, he entered the car again. 

As they settled back into their seats, the woman turned to him, a smile tugging at her lips. "So... what are we now?" she asked, her voice warm and expectant.

Troy looked at her, one eyebrow raised. "What are we... as in what now, do I even know your name?" he replied, feigning confusion.

"I mean, what just happened between us?" she continued, her smile fading. "Or are you just going to dump me now that you've had your fun?"

He gave a dry laugh, his demeanor instantly cooling. "Excuse me, before we started anything, did I mention that I wanted anything serious with you? Did I make any promises?"

Her face shifted to a look of disappointment as she fell silent. She opened her mouth to respond, but Troy had already moved on. He huffed, reaching into his wallet, grabbing some money. Without looking at her, he handed her $800. "Here, take this."

The woman's eyes widened in shock. She swung the stack of money, throwing it back at him, her voice thick with frustration. "You're so shameless."

Without another word, she opened the car door, slamming it as she stepped out and walked away into the night.

Troy shook his head, his face hardening as he called out after her, "You should be grateful! At least I gave you something." As she disappeared from view, he sneered, mocking her under his breath. "'What are we now?' Please," he scoffed, rolling his eyes. "I'm Benjackson Troy. I don't fall for cheap—" he muttered, cutting himself off with a dismissive wave as he restarted the engine.

As he drove off, he turned up the volume on one of his very own favorite tracks, Wonder, letting the lyrics fill the silence of the car. The familiar hook began to play, and Troy found himself mumbling along, the words a strange, subtle reflection of his inner turmoil.

𝐈 𝐰𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐰... 𝐈 𝐰𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐲... 𝐈 𝐰𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬...

The melody echoed in the dimly lit car as he continued down the empty road, each line tugging at thoughts he tried to suppress.

𝐈 𝐰𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐟 𝐈 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞... 𝐈 𝐰𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐟 𝐈 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲... 𝐈 𝐰𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐈 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞...

The words resonated in a way he hadn't expected. He glanced at the city lights in the distance, memories stirring in his mind, unbidden. An old pain resurfaced—a heartbreak that had scarred him deeply, transforming him into the man he was now. It was this hurt that had driven him to treat women as disposable, a way to protect himself from the vulnerability he once felt.

As the song faded, he hardened his resolve, pushing the memories back into the recesses of his mind. The road stretched before him, and he pressed his foot harder on the gas, leaving behind not just the roadside encounter, but also the lingering questions the lyrics had awakened.

For now, all that mattered was the music pulsing through his speakers and the image of himself as Benjackson Troy—a man untouchable, unbreakable, and, above all, detached.

As Troy pulled into the driveway of his apartment, a sleek, modern duplex he'd carefully customized to his every whim, he felt a sense of satisfaction at his success. The property was the epitome of his style, filled with everything he needed to escape from the world. The six rooms served distinct purposes: one was his personal recording studio, where he could lock himself away and pour his emotions into his music; another was his library, lined with ancient books and filled with his own artwork—drawing had always been a private passion. His walk-in closet was like a small showroom, meticulously organized with racks of designer clothes, shelves of sneakers, and trays of accessories. The fourth room was his bedroom, his sanctuary of solitude, and the other two were reserved for guests, though he rarely had people over.

Directly across from his duplex lived Ella Brown, a woman who occupied a unique—and aggravating—place in his life. Ella was a digital marketer, successful and fiercely independent, with a boldness that only seemed to annoy him. With her striking figure, flawless fair skin, and long, straight blonde hair, Ella was undeniably attractive. Her pointed nose, charming lips, and the dimple that appeared when she smiled were hard to ignore, though Troy wished he could. She carried herself with elegance and strength, exuding a self-assuredness that he often found infuriating. Ella's resilience, her lioness-like confidence, and the unyielding courage she seemed to wear like armor only served to fuel their rivalry.

Their shared disdain was almost legendary within the building, as everyone knew the two couldn't stand each other. Every time they crossed paths in the hallway or outside, a storm of silent glares or sharp remarks brewed between them. It was almost poetic—the two of them, opposites in every way, both possessing strong wills and fire, had somehow bought their apartments from the same person without knowing it until they had already moved in. Fate had forced them into proximity, and neither one was thrilled about it.

Tonight, though, Troy had no patience to dwell on his irritating neighbor. He parked his car, letting the exhaust echo softly in the quiet night, and headed inside. Once in his apartment, he made his way to the bathroom, the events of the night lingering in his mind. He took a long, hot shower, letting the water wash away any lingering tension. As he dried off, he glanced around his bedroom, taking comfort in the familiarity of the space he'd built for himself.

Dressed in comfortable sweats, he collapsed onto his bed, the exhaustion of the day finally catching up with him. His phone buzzed, but he ignored it, too tired to entertain anyone else. Within minutes, he was drifting into sleep, thoughts of music, fleeting moments of introspection, and even a brief, unbidden flash of a dimpled smile crossing his mind before he pushed it away.

For now, he was alone in his fortress, wrapped in solitude, with only the distant sound of the city humming through his open window.