Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 87756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
I grabbed a black lace underwear set, black garter belt, and sheer stockings, a simple little black dress that showed barely a hint of cleavage but a whole helluva lot of leg, and a pair of ultra-thin spike heels in a matte black color. I fixed my hair, applied more tattoo makeup, made my eyes a little smoky and slipped into my clothes. Contacts in, I spritzed a little perfume and added simple diamond studs to my ears. I slathered on some lip balm, because no way was I putting on lipstick that might discourage more kissing like we had just done, then made my way back downstairs with five extra minutes to spare.
At the sound of my heels on the floor, Paine turned his attention away from the TV and looked at me. Letting out a low whistle, he patted his knee.
A part of me knew I really shouldn't always go to him when called me like a dog, but... come on. A man like Paine told you to follow him into hell, you ignored the demons and fire and went with him. So I moved toward him, stepping between his legs, then lowered myself down on one of his thighs. One of his arms rested across my thighs, the other went around my waist and pulled me to the side against his chest, nestling my face under his chin.
When the silence stretched, his arm tightened around me slightly. "What's up with you?"
"What do you mean?"
"Don't know you that well, but I do know you're not the quiet type. So what's up?"
"Paine we have to get to dinner before we lose our reservation."
"Fuck our reservation. I want to know what's up. Was it that shit Sawyer dropped last night?"
"Paine..."
"Listen, I'm not the emotional touchy-feely kind of man, but I don't like a woman bullshitting me either. So tell me what's up; we'll talk it out. If you don't want to talk about it, then you need to fucking let it go."
Well then.
That was... refreshing.
I was used to men doing one of two things: demanding to know every detail of what I was thinking, or men not wanting to hear word one about my thoughts or feelings.
It was nice to be given an option.
And, well, I think I've established that I am not the kind of woman who could let things go. So I was going to swallow my pride and talk it out with him.
"Why are you taking me to dinner?" I asked, my focus on the TV. "You don't really seem like the kind of man to wine and dine."
"I'm not," he said bluntly, making me try to pull away to look at him, but he wouldn't let me. "You want the truth?"
"Always," I said honestly. Even if what I heard was something I didn't like, it was way better than what would go on in my head if I was left to come to my own conclusions.
"I obviously haven't been a boy scout. When I was younger, it was all about money and power. Now, money is still important. So is respect, not so much the power. But one constant since I was old enough to chase a skirt, I've liked women. Meaning, a wide variety of them. I've never been a man for exclusivity. That being said, I'm up front about that shit. I don't lie or feed lines or tell women I'm going to call when I'm not. You know exactly what you're getting from me."
"Then why do I not know what I'm getting from you?"
"'Cause, baby, I got no fucking idea what is going on here." He paused, letting that sink in. "I like being around you. You're interesting, different. You're hot as shit. And, babygirl, I don't remember the last time I wanted to fuck someone as much as I want to fuck you. That being said, this ain't no promise of anything. Maybe we'll fuck and I'll want to move on. Maybe I'll want to hang around and keep fucking you until it's out of our systems. Maybe something else. Fuck if I know at this point. If you can live with that uncertainty, great, let's go to dinner. You think you can't, maybe we should call it a day because I'm not gonna be that guy."
"What guy?"
"The one who pulls you around, promising one thing one minute, then when you get comfortable and feel safe, changes his mind. I've seen assholes do that to my sisters; I've had countless nights of them showing up at my place crying. I don't want to be that guy. I don't want you to get comfortable, feel safe and stable, then fuck you over. So I'm sharing this with you now so you know not to latch on because this shit is new to me and I don't know how it's going to go."