“Look, I have things to do tonight.” Her face was familiar but her name—not so much.
“Oh, that’s fine. I can just wait here while you do what you need to do.” She flashed me her biggest smile and settled back into the sheets, looking way too comfortable in my bed.
“No. You’re going to need to get up, get dressed, and go home.” I massaged my temples with my fingertips, a migraine inching its way into my skull.
For fuck’s sake! Why isn’t this ever as easy as they make it out to be? Maybe I should get them to sign some shit, a ‘This is a Fuck and Only a Fuck’ disclaimer or something.
“I really have no plans for tomorrow, Cane.”
“We discussed this. We fuck. You leave. You know this.”
She had the nerve to look hurt.
“I didn’t think you were going to say that once we were done.”
“It was amazing. It is always amazing with me.” I flashed her a grin and literally watched her swoon.
That never gets old.
“Look, I don’t do this ‘sex and a sandwich’ thing, but that is not a newsflash.”
“But Cane!”
“Why does it feel like we’ve been here before?” Frustration took over and I took a deep breath, trying to keep myself calm. All I needed was a hot little body to dump my stress into for a little while and I had made no illusions otherwise. She agreed to this before she followed me home.
Why does it have to be complicated now? I ran my fingers through my short blond hair, scrubbing my scalp in annoyance.
“When I was here a few months ago, we had lunch, too. Remember? We sat out on the patio.”
Remember her face. Do not triple dip this one.
“You don’t understand how this works.” I glanced at her reclining against my pillows and fought hard to not sound as brusque as I felt. “I have a bunch of shit to do. You really need to go.”
She sighed dramatically as she got up and found her jeans on the floor. I watched her ass jiggle as she pulled them on slowly, undoubtedly for my benefit.
It worked.
I had to restrain myself from grabbing her and fucking her one more time, just for good measure. That would only make getting her out of my house even harder and she simply wasn’t good enough to waste any more time on.
Instead, I sat and enjoyed the show. She turned to face me as she pulled her shirt over her head, her eyes never leaving mine. She tucked her bra in her purse.
With a final glance over her shoulder, presumably to give me time to change my mind, she was gone.
And I was alone again—just the way I liked it.