Time to dig deeper. "And when you've accomplished your task?"
He splayed his arms across the back of the sofa casually. "Then we both go our separate ways."
That stung.
Why? She had no clue. Except she didn't want to be looked at like a game. Been there, done that, have the stained tee. She wanted to be loved. Loved for who she was and what she was capable of giving a man. She wanted to be able to give a man her entire self and have that man take it, accept it, relish it, cherish it. And vice versa. God, what she wouldn't give to have a man trust her with his true self and be able to love her uncontrollably and unconditionally. Was that really too much to ask? She didn’t think so. She craved that untapped love so badly she could practically taste it.
But Derk wasn’t that man. She knew it. He might as well have it tattooed across his forehead. What had she been thinking?
She hadn’t. Another stupid, stupid mistake. But at least this one could be nipped in the bud before it blossomed.
"Get. Out," she said through gritted teeth.
He snorted and crossed his ankle over his knee. "I don't think so."
"Kayla!" she screamed.
Thank goodness her girlfriend must have been listening closely, because she shot out of the bedroom.
"Get him out of here," Mackenzie hissed, then stormed off to her bedroom.
Ten minutes later Kayla knocked softly on her door and opened it. "He's gone. Not happy, but gone." She came into the room and sat. "What happened?"
"He was honest. I'm a game. A project he wants to change." She sighed, disheartened. "Am I really so undesirable that a man couldn't want me for me? I mean, I know I'm not the smartest, sexiest, thinnest. But I'm not a bitch and I work hard. I take nothing in life for granted. I...I...don't understand," she said and broke down for the first time since finding that jackass she'd married pounding into her neighbor.
"Oh, honey," Kayla said sympathetically. "You're a terrific catch. Derk is a jerk. Ha! Rhymes. Your ex was a cheating asshole who treated you like garbage. You need a nice guy. A man who appreciates what you have to offer."
"Yeah, where do I find one of those?"
Kayla shrugged. "As soon as I find out I'll let you know."
10
Man, he fucked up. Derk considered himself a bright guy, but clearly when it came to Mackenzie he had zero deduction skills−though he had never found it necessary to try to figure women out. Mac walked him right into that trap, then sent him packing. Now he sat in his living room pissed and bewildered. Why the fuck did he give a shit if this chick wanted nothing to do with him? He had fifty women on his phone he could call and they'd drop whatever the hell they were doing to blow him, fuck him, or whatever else he desired.
Running a frustrated hand through his overlong hair, he exhaled a drag off his cigarette. He didn’t need this girl. Woman. Whatever. He picked up his phone and scrolled down to find Claire’s number. Time to move on.
***
Seated in his living room, Derk pulled up more information on Mackenzie, accessing her final divorce documents, and lit another cigarette. No matter what, he couldn’t get her off his mind. Even last night when he had Claire bent over her table and pounded into her body, Mackenzie’s sweet, soft body was beneath his. Was he pissed at her? Yeah, but that didn’t stop the fixation he had over her.
And that made him irate. He didn’t get all moony over a woman. He didn’t have time for it and refused the hassle. Not only that, he’d seen first hand what a woman would do to a man’s psyche. He vividly remembered his parents’ fucked up marriage. For as far back as he could remember, his mother had been the queen of the mind-fuck. His father had been a man brought to his knees numerous times by his wife. Oh, Derk’s mom was gorgeous. In fact, she could have passed for pre-blonde Marilyn Monroe. He’d inherited his mom’s dark brown eyes and his dad’s coal black hair. His parents had been a model-type couple. But their cohabitation skills sucked. Mom was needy. If Dad got wrapped up in work, she’d do something to drive him insane as a form of punishment for not giving her his undivided attention. Like go out with her single girlfriends to a bar, stumble in the door around three in the morning−minus her wedding rings. Always Dad waited up for her, seething. That last time she’d pulled the stunt was the final straw. If only Dad could have waited a couple weeks until Derk moved out of the house so he hadn't been a first hand witness to the carnage that night.
Reading over Mackenzie’s file, Derk felt his blood simmer into a slow boil. She’d been screwed. So her admission to having nothing wasn’t a lie. That fucker took everything. Cagey bastard.