I tap my fingers against the bar, waiting for last call.
"Negan, you fucking mind with that shit?"
When I rise to my full dominating height, Hugh Dangler doesn't have anything else smart assed to say to me. The only person that's going to get away with that shit is Murphy. Never in my life would I think I'd be antsy to get off because of a fucking woman. After an overnight stay in the hospital, she was released to go home. I took her back but had to run to this dump as soon as I got her in bed. I'm exhausted from all the back and forth and I still don't have an answer as to what was wrong with her. The doctors won't tell me shit, and Murphy keeps brushing off my questions. Finally. "Last call."
There's no sign of Walter at her gate, and when I let myself in her camper I smell a fragrance.
"It's pretty common to knock before entering someone's home."
My jaw just kinda hangs there. Seems I've walked in on bath time. "I, uh. You know… I was- shit." I fumble for my keys before shoving them down in my pocket. "Sorry," I redden.
"Yeah, yeah. Put your tongue back in your mouth and I might believe you."
"Wait a minute… the fuck are you taking a bath for at 3 am? Huh? I think you wanted me to walk in on you."
"You say it like it's a bad thing."
"I think the only reason why you're in that goddamn tub is so I won't ask questions about why you were in the hospital. See, you women are good at that. Diverting our attention with tits."
"Seems I've underestimated you."
"I've got two days off, Murphy. Either tell me what's wrong or I ain't leaving for those two days."
"Well, since you've already let yourself in you might as well make yourself at home then."
I walk over and kneel beside the tub.
"You're worrying for nothing."
"No, I'm not a worrier because it doesn't do fuck all. I know what I saw, Murphy. You stopped breathing. Your coloring. Even the Colonel fuck was worried."
That drops her guard as her concerned eyes shift over to Walter. "It was heat exhaustion. Honestly."
"I think you're full of excuses," I frown.
"Better than being full of manure."
That gets me as my lip tugs upward. "Do you really not swear?"
"You swear enough for the both of us."
"How about I get in the tub and you can wash my mouth out with soap?"
Murphy yanks the stopper from the tub. "Oh, shoot. My hand slipped."
"My dick is about to slip into something."
"Gosh, your pick up lines are terrible. Seriously? Your doodle is about to slip into something?"
"My fucking what?" I bellow out a laugh. "When I finally do slip inside you, you better not refer to my cock as a doodle."
"I hardly doubt if you're inside me you're going to be worried about what I'm saying."
"Good fucking answer." I hand her the towel and be a good fuck and turn the other way. Hopefully, it's going to earn me some fuck points. "I'm going to go home and fire one off to you anyhow. This is just saving me the trouble."
"That reminds me. The butcher will be at the pick-n-save in the morning. We should go. You could be my wingman."
I rub my brow in annoyance. Fuck yeah, I'm going. But only because I want to size this fuck up.
"Have a seat. I'll make us some breakfast after I dress."
If her breakfast is anything like her dinner, I'm going to end up starving. I decide to take matters into my own hands. Damn, this girl really doesn't have much. I find some pasta, the best-looking tomatoes I have ever seen, along with a few other little things.
"I see my plan to have you cooked worked perfectly. What are we having?"
"Spaghetti. Sorta."
"For breakfast?"
"It's dinner time for me, and this is what we're eating."
"I've never seen spaghetti broiled before."
"I'd say do it yourself but last time you almost burn your camper down."
"Oh, that was just a ploy to get you to leave."
"I told you… I'm very persistent."
"Unfortunately."
"Keep acting like you don't want little Negan, Murphy."
"I definitely don't want little Negan."
Fuck! "That's not what I meant!" Goddamn her. Breakfast dinner doesn't go at all like I planned. Which would have entailed me fucking her on the table. As if I wasn't already a bitch, now I'm getting ready to take her to see that guy. "Wait, aren't you going to put on some other clothes or something?"
"What's wrong with my outfit?"
"Here you're trying to fuck this guy and you look like you just rolled out of bed. Not to mention your hair is a goddamn mess."
"Pfff, and? I'm not going to dress up for a man. If he doesn't like the way I look, oh well. This is who I am."
For the record, I'd still fuck the fucks right out of her. She takes me to this hole in the wall fucking dump of a supermarket. "What's your deal with the butcher if you don't eat meat?"
"I told you, I want to bone him."
"Where is he?"
"Behind the counter."
"All I see is that old dude. Wait a fucking minute… that's the butcher? My god, Murph, he's like fifty fucking years old."
"Seasoned."
"I bet he can't even get it up if he could see it over that gut."
"He's not overweight, in fact, he's rather muscular. I don't mind a little extra pudge on his stomach. Besides, I enjoy his Russian accent. Gruff, deep voice. Rough hands. Wide shoulders. Tall, so very tall."
"Sounds like me aside from the accent."
"Yeah, I guess you'll have to do. Just wish you were twenty years older."
"You know, I'd be really fucking offended right now if you didn't just imply you were going to take me home and fuck me into submission."
"Or the restroom here."
"How much of this conversation is you fucking with me? Is that even the fucking butcher?"
"The Murph," the butcher smiles.
"Fucking pathetic," I grimace when I watch her lean seductively against the counter.
"I make special deal for The Murph. Any meat you want!"
"She wants your meat," I cough.
Murphy elbows me in the side. "Just some of your special seasoning today," she giggles.
Special season- The fuck? Is that a fucking semen reference? This is ri-goddamn-diculous. "Hey, Murphy, I'm going to go see if the pharmacy has your prescription filled for that cream you need. Do you want me to see if they have an applicator, too?" I have to walk away from them because the look on her face right now is so fucking funny. I almost puke in the cereal aisle from laughing as hard as I am.
"Thanks for your help."
"Any fucking time."
"I'm being serious. He gave me his number. I knew you being there would give him that little nudge."
"Wha… even after all that genital cream talk?"
"He barely understands English so little good your insult did."
"Well," I whine. "Fuck. What's wrong with me?"
"I told you, I like seasoned men."
"So you're telling me I gotta wait twenty years to fuck you?"
"Depending on how you age, twenty… twenty-five years."
I swipe the paper from Murphy's hand. "You fucking liar. This is a recipe for seasoning, not his number. Here I am sweating this fucking meat jockey for nothing."
"I knew I should have just told you I was a lesbian, but then I figured that'd be worse because you'd be on this sexual conquest to try and get into my spandex."
"I can try and work with your spandex if you want to leave them on."
She snaps me a glare. "Come on, Clifford, let's go get something to eat."
"I ain't no fucking dog."
"Really? Well, who's following who?"
Goddamn her. "Shut up." And to add insult to injury, guess who bought lunch? This game is getting a little old. Especially when the afternoon is spent lugging around bags of soil shit for her garden and all the grunt work she doesn't want to do. Do this, Negan, do that. I'm fucking done. Yeah, it's shallow not to stick around but I want pussy. Not a fucking wife. Maybe I'll take Peaches up on her offer. "Murph, I'm gonna take off. Murphy?"
She's sagged against her wall.
"What's wrong?"
"Just light headed." She seems embarrassed and tries to play it off.
"Let me help you." I think my dick actually receded inward looking at her bed. All this frilly fuckery and pillows. "Sweet fucking fuck. These sheets are softer than my foreskin."
"Really now?"
"Yeah, wanna feel?"
Her eyes are slowly brought up to mine. "No," she murmurs.
I don't believe her. Not that I ever do when it comes to the bullshit that leaves her mouth. I press my knee to her bed, planting my hands firmly against the mattress on either side of her hips. "I'll make you forget that butcher real quick."
"Negan-"
"I've been quite the submissive fuck for you, Murphy, and now it's time to make you mine." I capture her lips before she tries to give me another reason we can't fuck.
Her fingers claw at the back of my hair, drawing me in harder against her lips.
"I fucking knew it," I snarl, nipping at her bottom lip. Ms. I have a fucking rebuttal for everything sure fucking didn't have shit to say. "Oh, fuck, the fuck?" I shake my foot when Walter plops down on it.
"Bad," Murphy says, shooing him away.
The fucking thing actually tries to get between us.
"This takes cock blocking to a whole new level." Fuck, I want to be mad, but all we can do is fucking laugh. "I'm gonna take a piss, but then be ready, Murphy. And no more fucking excuses." If this fat fucking chubby I'm left with will go down so I can pee. I shake my head when Walter starts squawking again outside the bathroom door. What an attention whore. I thought I was bad-
"Stop," Murphy pleas, followed by a painful whimper.
The fuck? As I open the bathroom door to see the commotion, my grin melts away in horror.