“Is that what I’m doing?” His gaze bores into me, burning holes with its heat.
“Yes,” I whisper. “You know you are.” He inhales a deep breath through his nose as he leans back in his chair and rearranges his penis unashamedly in his pants. My eyes drop down to between his legs and I swallow a golf ball again. Ok, if he gets away from me today without giving me what I need, I am going to need sectioning myself tonight. “Why are you hard?” I can’t help myself. I have to ask.
“I’m always hard when I talk about what I need in a wife.”
“You have this conversation often?” I’m offended.
“No, first time,” he smiles.
I narrow my eyes. “Bastard,” I whisper. “Stop playing with me.” He smiles as he takes another sip of his latte. Breakfast arrives and we eat in silence. He’s seemingly relaxed, I’m practically panting at the visuals in my pea brain. Tied to a bed. Damn, yes please. “So have you had any serious girlfriends?” He shakes his head as he takes another bite. “Why not?”
“I can’t be monogamous so,” he shrugs, “I guess it’s not fair.”
“Huh, what do you mean you can’t be monogamous?”
“I’ve never been with just one person.”
I frown. “What, never?” he shakes his head again. “How do you? I mean what, so these girls you…mess around with know they are one of many?”
“Pretty much.” I stop eating and put my knife and fork down as I frown.
He smiles, “What’s wrong with that?”
“You’re a frigging pig.” I answer.
He shrugs. “I like to think I’m honest.”
“Seriously, so girls are happy to have you for half an hour and give you back?”
He puts his knife and fork down. “No, they get me for about four hours and when it’s over I have nothing in common with them and I don’t particularly want to spend time with them so I leave.”
I shake my head in disgust. “You know the way you just spoke about women makes me think I have absolutely nothing in common with you anymore.”
He looks offended, “Are you kidding?”
“What.”
“You think what I do is any worse than what you do?”
“What do I do?”
He rolls his eyes at me. “Make men fall in love with you so much that they want to marry you and then you dump them when you get bored. No thanks, I would rather do it my way. Like I said, at least I don’t hurt anyone.” He raises an eyebrow.
“I’m sure these girls get hurt,” I snap. Who in the hell does he think he is anyway, frigging Dirk Diggler?
“Trust me, the kind of girls I go out with don’t expect more.”
I roll my eyes at him. “Can we just drop the subject because your mouth is seriously pissing me off?”
He smirks. “I thought you liked my mouth.”
“No, actually, not anymore. It’s a turn off to think how many women you’ve slept with.” He looks down and he butters his toast while he processes my words, but doesn’t say anything.
He stays silent as I finish my breakfast. I know the last line I have just thrown him has hurt his feelings but I couldn’t give a rat’s ass. There is no way in hell I’m going back there if that’s how much respect he has for girls he’s intimate with. That’s right, he doesn’t even know what intimacy is. Yuk!
“Let’s go,” I say as I finish the last of my coffee. I stand and head to the cashier. He follows and puts his hand on my lower back. I squirm away. He pays and I head to the car.
“Where are you going?” he calls after me.
I turn to look at him. “You can take me home now, thanks.” I turn back towards the car. I lean on the side of his Audi, my rear up against the door.
He leans on the car next to me. “Why are you mad?” he asks as he stares straight ahead.
“You have to ask?” I frown.
“Natasha, I’m not monogamous because I haven’t found a girl I connected with.”
“Why not?” I ask.
He shrugs, “I don’t know. Maybe I never will.” He gives me a weak smile. That does sound a little better than what he told me ten minutes ago.
“Why didn’t you just say that instead of being so seedy?”
He bumps his shoulder into mine. “You don’t like seedy?” he smirks.
“I hate seedy.” I bite my bottom lip to stifle my smile.
“Anyway, I thought I was taking you pyjama shopping.”
“What’s wrong with my pyjamas?” I gasp.
“You have to ask?” he smiles as he throws my line back at me.
I narrow my eyes. “Ok but I’m picking, I want another flannelette pair.”
He feigns a disgusted face. “Flannelette,” he repeats. “I hate flannelette.”
“Well nobody sees my pyjamas and I like them,” I smile.
His face drops. “Why does nobody see your pyjamas?”