Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 68716 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68716 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
“Gina,” I say, letting some of the steel drop from my voice, “you’re a good woman. Fun as hell. But I don’t do commitment.” The words are blunt, but practiced. And all the same, they are my truth. “I’m not looking to settle down. I’m not looking to get serious. And I damn sure don’t take company on vacation.”
Her brows pull together, hurt slicing through her expression. “So what? I’m just a hookup? And that was it.”
“Yes,” I answer simply. An honest reply. “A good lay. But that’s all.”
She flinches like I slapped her.
It would be kinder to sugarcoat things, maybe—but sugarcoating is just lying with extra steps. The truth is the truth. And I learned years ago when my wife died that lies of any kind rot the foundation of whatever life you think you’re building. If I could turn back the hands of time, I would have been brutally honest with Tammy. I wasn’t and I live with regrets from things I never did right by her. Because of that, I will never give another woman all of me. My wife deserved the man she never got. It would be a disrespect to her memory, the loyalty and love she gave to me if I gave another woman better than I did her.
No one will ever love me like she did and no one will ever have access to the pieces of my soul I gave to her.
Gina blinks rapidly, then looks away. “You could’ve told me if I asked for more it would be over. Why do you get to be honest, and I can’t? I’m telling you I want to see what this can be and I’m automatically kicked out of your life. Sure, you explained clearly I would not be your only lover. But that was when we first started. Now, it’s become a pretty steady thing, I see you almost every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday night. I just wanted to see if we could have more than sex. And because I bare my desires you shut me out forever. This doesn’t seem fair Stud.”
I laugh. I don’t try to hide my frustration. “Stop the bullshit. I have been up front with you. I’m up front with every woman I fuck. I laid it out multiple times.” I grab my socks, tug them on. “Every time we meet up, I tell you exactly what we’re doin’—fuckin’. You get my time. My attention. My hands. My dick. My bed. But when I say go home? You go home. We don’t have conversations and we don’t have arguments over why you’re not leaving.”
She sits perfectly still on the edge of the mattress for a long moment. Then she gives a sharp, bitter little laugh. “I hate how much I like you,” she mutters. “Even right now, you stand in front of me, smug, but I’m still wanting more than you’re ever gonna give me. I don’t know what it is about you that twists me up inside.”
“I warned you about that too,” I remark. I tell them all, enjoy the ride, but don’t fall in love.
She shakes her head, dark hair falling like a curtain around her face. Then she stands, sheet trailing, and starts gathering her clothes off the floor—panties near the dresser, jeans draped across my chair, bra half under the bed from where she tossed it without a care.
I turn away to give her privacy—not that last night left much to the imagination. I just don’t care to see the view ever again.
She dresses in silence. I don’t fill it. When she’s done, she slings her purse over her shoulder and stands by the door, uncertainty flickering there again.
“You,” she stammers, “you’ll maybe call me?” she asks with an innocent hope.
“Nope.” I give her the truth. “I’m not your guy anymore. You got an itch to fuck a Hellion, find another brother.”
“Come on Stud. I get it. I got your message loud and clear. I won’t press for more again. I know my place.”
“Ship has sailed, baby. I’m not your guy. Find someone else to make you come.”
She jolts at my honesty. But it’s a fact. I’m done.
She nods once, a jerky little move, then opens the door. “Safe trip,” she murmurs, and slips out.
The latch clicks softly behind her and I hear her make her way down the hall and then out my front door.
I let out a long breath and rub the back of my neck, rolling the tension out. Women like Gina deserve someone who’ll give them the world. Women should want someone who will put care into more than their bodies. Orgasms, I can deliver. Love, not happening. Emotions, never again. The man to build something real with … not here.
That man will never be me. I burned that version of myself alive the day my wife took her last breath.