Still, if all men are dogs, it’s nice to be sitting with the alpha.
Who says we’ve evolved since the Stone Age?
I sigh and let all my regrets go. The failure of my three-year relationship. Spending three years with such a jerk to begin with. Not just grabbing this guy and dragging him off to one of the much used bedrooms before I opened my mouth in the first place...
Mostly that last one.
“Yeah. Out on his ass. Luckily, the lease on our place is in my name.” I snort, dainty like an angry bull. “My place,” I correct. “I grabbed one of his golf clubs from the bag in the hall and chased him and his slut girlfriend out, then threw their clothes after them and slammed the door.”
He laughs, throwing his head back. It’s loud and honest. “Now that’s a sight I’d love to have fucking seen. Holy shit.” He laughs again, and this time the corners of my lips curl up despite myself.
It was actually pretty funny.
A little chirp of laughter escapes me and I cover my mouth with my hand in surprise. I think this is the first time I’ve smiled since I chased Michael out with his three iron. It feels good.
“That’s kinda crazy, isn’t it?” I grin.
“My fucking kind of crazy, babe.” He laughs again before trying to drink from his empty cup. He scowls at it, then tosses it aside, making me cringe. He’s making a mess. Besides, I could’ve used that color to make my cup stacks even. “Whatever piss they pour in these cups, it’s closer to water than beer.”
I nod, even if my opinion of beer is that it’s all just degrees of bad. Maybe I haven’t had “the good stuff” yet.
At twenty-one and nearing the end of my political science degree, I might be the only one in the room old enough to be drinking legally. I glance at my couch companion. No, not the only one. I take another sip, swallowing the bitter liquid down before I get a chance to sober up too much.
He leans in closer, and the spicy musk of his aftershave tickles my senses. “The fucker deserved it. He’s lucky you didn’t bash his head in.” His grin widens. “Now me? I’d never do that to you.”
“You’d always be faithful?” I eye him critically.
Top to toe, everything about him screams player. With his bad boy looks, all those tattoos and the wild, black hair, nah, I’d never peg him for the settling-down type. Which is fine, because he’s been fun to hang out with.
But boyfriend material? No way.
Shaking his head, he can probably read the look on my face for exactly what it is—skepticism. “I never make promises I can’t keep, sweet thing. No promises, no betrayal.”
“No promises? None?” It sounds a little lonely to me, even if he said it like it was a good thing.
He’s so close our noses are almost touching. He puts a thick finger under my chin to make sure I don’t look away. “Only one.” His eyes are dark, the calm before the storm. “The best fucking night of your life.”
It’s probably not the reaction he was looking for, but I laugh. “God, you’re pretty full of yourself, aren’t you?”
He doesn’t seem to mind. “Probably, but wouldn’t you rather be full of me?”
Oh. My. God.
I want to laugh again, but it catches in my throat. Something about him draws me like a moth to a flame. He’s completely unlike anyone I’ve ever been with—not that my list is very long—and a part of me wonders if I’ve been missing out.
Letting this conversation continue would be a sucktastic, horrible, absolutely terribad idea. He will eat me alive and leave my heart on the road for the vultures when he goes.
But holy crap, what a way to go.
He leans in and his whisper is hot in my ear. “Do you live nearby?”
Not really thinking, I nod. That’s breaking the first rule of hookups right? Don’t bring them home. I haven’t even agreed to anything and I’m already messing it up.
“I bet you go to sleep at night imagining them in your bed.” He strokes his fingers up my neck and over my jaw. “I’ll make you one more promise. One night with me and it won’t be them you see. All you’ll remember will be the sounds of the screams you’ll make while I fuck you in ways he’s never even imagined.”
That is quite possibly the most over the top thing he’s said all night. I shiver, vaguely aware of my nipples hardening into pebbles. I bet he can see them right through my shirt.
I’m so hot I’m melting. I don’t want to admit it, but my body has no problem acknowledging it—I want him, and his promises that aren’t promises.
No commitment, no betrayal.