by Eva Luxe
I requested the closest driver so he could come dig me out of this shithole I’d found myself in. Thank goodness for Uber. I could hear the girl murmuring behind me as she pulled her clothes on while my legs carried me down the metal staircase of my warehouse apartment.
“The least you could do is offer me some coffee,” she said.
“Don’t drink it.”
“You don’t drink coffee?”
“Nope.”
“Who the fuck doesn’t drink coffee?” she asked
“Me. Your ride will be here in seven minutes.”
“Well, that gives us seven minutes to have a bit of kitchen-counter fun.”
Her hands slid around my waist, rippling across my bare skin. I could feel her lips pressing kisses into the tattoos on my back, but I wasn’t going to have this. She needed to leave before she got more attached. She needed to go so she didn’t get any ideas.
Women always loved the bad boy. The brooding one that didn’t talk. They thought they could change him. Make him into a better man and pull out some decent husband and father type material that was buried in his gut or some shit. They didn’t want a man like me. They wanted what they thought they could turn me into.
And they were partially right. Women had no fucking business being with a man like me. But where they were wrong was in thinking they could change me. So I always had them hit the road before they could try.
“Want some tea?” I asked as her lips attacked my skin.
“You drink tea?” she asked, giggling. “How cute.”
I grabbed her arms and ripped them off my body. Her eyes were wide with shock, and her tits poked through her blouse. She was ready to go another round— I knew she was— but her scent was growing mustier on my skin, and it was filling my cabin, and all I wanted was for her to leave. To get out.
“What the hell’s gotten into you?” she asked. “Last night, you couldn’t wait to get in between my legs.”
“Alcohol will do that to you,” I said.
“Sweetie, you don’t need alcohol to know I’ve got decent love to give.”
“Sometimes decent doesn’t cut it for guys like me,” I said.
“What the fuck is your problem?” she asked. “Can’t keep it up without alcohol?”
I heard a car horn beep outside, and I sighed with relief.
“Ride’s here,” I said.
Another thing I loved about Uber is that they were usually way quicker than the app predicted.
“Good. Because this place is a fucking dump. View of the waterfall, my ass. One measly fucking window. You’re pathetic, you know that?”
Their true colors always came out once the fun was over and things got serious— or at least once they wanted them to get serious and I stopped it.
“I bet you don’t even remember my name,” she said.
“Adriana?” I asked.
She scowled at me and I shrugged.
“Amber!” she practically yelled.
Well, I was close.
She ripped the door open and tried to slam it going out. Women always tried to do that. Slam a door that opened to the side. Being an ass to them was the quickest way to get them out.
As she left, in a huff, I was happy to see her go. Her ass didn’t even look nearly as good as it had in the dimly lit bar.
These women thought they were on the prowl for a one-night stand, but many of them were actually on the prowl for their fairy tale. Sleeping with the bad boy, only to wake up and find out he’s a soft guy at heart. They want to fuck him senseless, ride his face a bit, then wake up with his arms wrapped around their bodies and hear him begging for them to stay.
Women didn’t want one-night stands. They wanted impossible fairytale endings. The easiest way to burst that fantasy, if they didn’t listen, was to be an ass.
And I was fucking good at it.
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I fled from a life of luxury. But can I hide from love?
My father is one of the richest men in the world, but also one of the cruelest.
So I've changed my name and live in seclusion, in an isolated cabin in the woods.
I only invite over my one-night-stands-I'm not the relationship type.
But one night with acurvy, feisty bombshell named Paige is off the charts hot.
My c*ck wants more, but my head is telling me to take it slow.
What the f*ck is Paige doing here, anyway, snooping around in my life?
She seems to have secrets, but it's not like I don't have plenty of my own.
I could give up my mountain hideaway for her.
But will that be enough to forge a future together while we both confront our pasts?
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