Dean narrowed his eyes. “Am I missing something here?”
“What the hell is wrong with everyone?” I growled, crossing my arms over my chest. “Why is it so surprising that I want to help her?”
He sat back in his seat, his eyes darting around the room before stopping to focus on something to the left of me. “Well, you never seem to give a shit about a woman beyond the time it takes to get her naked and for you to get off, so you’ll excuse my interest now you’re all intent on saving her ass.”
My eyes flashed at his words and he held up his hands, reining himself in. I raked a hand down my face. First Ashton, now Dean. Was that how they all really saw me? “Does everyone think that I’m a complete asshole who only thinks with his dick?”
He shrugged, noncommittally. “When it comes to business, hell no. You always have it together. But when it comes to women, you’re more the ‘give me a quick ride’ kind of guy than a knight in shining armor.”
“So just because I don’t want to be tied down by one woman I’m supposed to keep my dick in my pants and jerk off in the shower?”
“No, man. But you sure as shit flaunt every piece of ass you take home . . . until her.”
I’d had enough of this conversation. “Fuck this. Find out what you can about Wasden’s debts. I want to know how much he owes, and to who.”
I flipped on the computer and turned my attention there, clearly dismissing him and the whole fucked up conversation, although I had a feeling getting anything done with Tess’s half naked self only about fifty feet away was going to be harder than I thought. Dean took the hint and I heard the door click behind him.
Apparently everyone was out of their fucking minds, but I had too much work to do to deal with all of it. The dealership needed to be run and I had no intention of making Dad question whether or not I was fit to take over. It was time to get my head back in the game. Pushing everything out of my head, I got down to business.
Or at least I thought I did.
CHAPTER 12
Miller
One week.
Seven fucking days.
And every moment of those days spent with an aching dick. The first two days I tried to get my shit together; at least, until memories of Tess and her “just fucked” look came rushing to the surface at the most inopportune times. It seemed like there were very few moments I accomplished anything productive. By day three Dad called and ripped me a new asshole. Apparently in all of my fantasizing I’d forgotten to handle a transfer for one of our best clients. A mistake like that could have cost business and our reputation.
After that fiasco I stopped going to Rock Bottom to work, figuring I could push Tess out of mind that way. Out of sight, out of mind.
I spent all of my time at either the dealership or the club, but that still didn’t stop my mind from imagining all the ways I could get that uniform off Tess and have her bent over my desk; the chance to sink my dick into her warm pussy again became more and more tempting.
Annoyed as fuck by the fourth day, I decided to screw her out of my head. Women lined up when I wanted an easy piece of ass. Most of them didn’t need to be wined and dined, either. They stripped and spread themselves out on my bed.
That night, I decided to head out to the club. Convincing a woman to go home with you was so much easier when you were surrounded by evidence of your success. I checked on the games in the back before I took a seat in the VIP area. It was the perfect place to sit and watch the women as they walked in and headed straight for the bar.
And there were women everywhere. The choices seemed endless, yet not one of them had me racing down the stairs to get to her.
One woman stood out a little more than the rest. For one night, she’d do. Determined, I stood and walked up to the sexy-as-hell brunette. She had legs that went on for days—legs I couldn’t wait to see wrapped around my waist.
“Hello,” I whispered next to her ear.
Startled, she jumped a bit then moved her head to look over her shoulder. “Excuse—” Her eyes widened and she swallowed hard. “You’re Miller Hawes.”
“Yes, I am.”
I let my eyes wander down her body. She would more than do. Her long hair fell in waves down her back—so similar to Tess, I had to push it from my mind. She was a payment for a debt. Nothing more.
“What brought you down to the bar?” Her eyes devoured every move I made. “I’d imagine you have waiters to get your drinks up there.” She gestured toward the top of the stairs. Apparently, she’d been watching me as well.
“I do. But I came down for a different reason.”
“Oh, and that is?”