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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 a curvy, 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?
***Here is an exclusive sneak peek***
The roar of the enormous buzz saw filled my ears as I fed another massive log through the machine. Sawdust shot up like sparks around me, and the smell of timber was in the air while I went through the stack of logs piled beside me. Working at the lumber mill could be dangerous if we weren’t careful, but I loved this job.
It was an honest day’s work for an honest day’s pay. I was usually assigned to hauling the massive logs to the machines because of how strong I was, but today, I was put in charge of getting the timber in the machine so that it could be sawn in half. Goggles and breathing masks kept me company for the day, which was how I liked it.
Here at work, I kept to myself, I didn’t have to deal with people talking in my ear, and I was good at my job. I could haul the wood, get it sawed in half, load it onto the trucks, and get them off the compound. I didn’t have to talk with anyone, I didn’t have to interact with customers, and I got paid a decent wage to do so.
All I had to do was lift heavy shit and stick to where I was assigned for the day.
I could be living a very different life. One in which I was living off my wealthy inheritance and not having to lift a finger, let alone a bunch of logs. But that would require dealing with things I had walked away from a long time ago. And I enjoyed living a life in seclusion where I could be left alone, rather than a life of luxury in which I had to deal with other peoples’ demands on me or poor treatment of me.
Fuck that. I’d rather be a happy lumberjack than a miserable billionaire.
A few hours in, I shut the saw down to take my break. The world seemed strangely quiet without the machine on. I grabbed my thermos of tea, and then ducked behind a towering pile of logs to enjoy my break in peaceful silence.
“Hey there, Zach. I didn’t think you were coming in today.”
I silently cursed. Of course, there was always that one talkative person. That one person who just couldn’t stand the sound of silence. Here, that guy just happened to be my best friend.
I looked up at him. “Hey, Caden.”
“They got you cuttin’ this shit in half today, huh?”
I nodded but said nothing. I just poured myself some tea and took a sip. Caden sat down beside me with his back against the wood pile. He drank from a colorful can of some brand of energy drink I didn’t recognize. I tried to avoid that heart attack inducing shit.
“I hear rumors, you know,” he said. “Of people getting promoted and shit this year.”
“Lucky them.”
“I hear you’re one of the ones they’re thinking about promoting.”
I chuckled. “As long as I don’t have to talk to people, I’m okay.”
“Do you talk to anyone besides me anymore?” he asked.
“Sometimes, I wish I didn’t even talk to you.” I grinned over at him before I took another drink of warm tea.
“So, I’ve been thinking,” Caden said.
“That’s never good. Did it hurt?”
“You’re a dick. I was thinking about opening my own lumber company.”
“Your own lumber company,” I said.
“Don’t do that repeating thing you do when you think I’m being an idiot. I don’t like it.”
“You are being an idiot.”
“Just hear me out. We could start our own lumber company. I could be the person that oversees everything, and you could manage all the people that work for us. We could make lots of money and travel the world and fuck all the women we want to in every country we landed in.”
“No, thanks,” I said.
“Just like that, huh? Not gonna even think about it?”
“You know I don’t like talking to people.”
“You talk to me.”
I shrugged. “You’ve been my best friend since high school. Of course, I talk to you.”
“You talked to people in high school.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“You should’ve talked to people in high school,” he said.
We both chuckled before I got to my feet to head back to my workstation for the day. Caden followed beside me.
“The company’s been busy lately,” he said. “That means more hours for us.”
“Yep.”
“Which means more money to line our pockets.”
“It does.”
“It’ll be nice. Maybe we could open up our own coffee shop or something,” he said.
“How the fuck did we jump from you owning your own lumber company to you opening your own coffee shop? You hate coffee.”
“That’s why I would hire you. You drink coffee, right?”
“Not even a little bit,” I said.
“That’s shit. I just saw you drinking coffee from the thermos.”
“What you saw was me drinking tea.”
“You drink tea,” he said.
“I do.”
“You, with your colorful tattoos and your stacked muscles? You drink tea?”
“Are muscular, tattooed guys not supposed to drink tea?” I asked.
“No. You’re supposed to drink the blood of your enemies.”
“You’re clinically insane, you know that?” I asked.
“What kind of tea is it? Green? Matcha? Chamomile with a bit of honey?”
“It’s ginger tea with lemon and honey. My throat was hurting.”
“Natural remedies for sickness?! Dude. I don’t fucking know you at all.”
I allowed myself to mull over what I would do with my own money— not my father’s— lining my pockets. The coffee shop would be more in line with my goals than owning a lumber company.
I only worked here because I actually enjoyed the grunt work. Being out in the fresh mountain air, chopping wood, is what I loved— sitting behind a desk and directing people would be my idea of fucking hell.
Arriving back at my station, I flipped the machine back on, picked up another log, and guided it through the saw. Caden continued to stick by my side.
“I have no idea how you just toss those logs up there like it’s nothing,” Caden said.
“That’s why they keep me around, I guess.”
“Sure as hell isn’t because you drink ginger tea,” he said, grinning.
“I hate you.”
“Yeah, yeah. How many hours you got on your paycheck this week?”
“By the time today’s over, if they don’t keep me longer, I’ll be just shy of sixty,” I said.
“Oh, shit! That’s overtime heaven. That’s one thing this company’s good for.”
“Helps offset the fact that they don’t give us health insurance.”
Caden chuckled. “Is that why you’re using those all-natural tea remedies for your little sore throat?”
“Keep it up, and I’m tossing you in next.” I gestured at the machine.
“I’m sure you could, but I’ll pass. But I’m telling you, if you come into business with me, you could make a lot more than you’re making now.”
“With your lumber company and your coffee shop,” I said flatly.
“Look, those were just examples. If I actually sat down and pounded out a decent business plan, would you think about it?”
“If I can do my job alone and in peace, sure. Bonus points if it’s an active job that has me walking around a lot, preferably outside.”
“You always have to interact with people in business,” he said. “Business is a social game.”
“Then no thanks,” I said.
“Dude, I could make you rich.”
“Dude, you’re already rich,” I said. “You have this thing called an inheritance. You always say you only work here to learn the ins and outs of business, before you start your own.”
“So do you,” he pointed out. “Have an inheritance, I mean. So, you’d be rich too if you mended things with your dad. Super rich. Even richer than I am.”
I paused what I was doing and looked him straight in his eyes.
“Don’t you dare,” I said darkly.
“You don’t have to like him. I don’t fucking blame you. That guy was a shithead while you were in high school. But if you made it seem like the two of you were okay, he’d probably give you your inheritance or write his estate over to you or some shit, and you’d be set for life.”
As if I didn’t already fucking know that. I was feeling angry now, and I thought about thanking Caden for being Captain fucking Obvious and wondering what other gems of wisdom he planned to dole out to me today. But instead I decided to ask him a more serious question.
“Is that all that matters to you? Money?”
He shrugged. “It’s a big part of it, yes. Can you imagine the pussy we would slay with money?”
“I get enough of that now,” I said. “Apparently, chicks dig tattoos and muscles.”
“Do you make them ginger tea in the mornings?” he asked, grinning.
“Nope. I don’t keep them around in the mornings.”
“Oh, shit! Now you’re working the bad boy stereotype.”
“Uh huh,” I said.
“Well, gotta go. I’ll see you for drinks tonight. The boss man is giving me bad looks.”
“Okay.” I paused. “Wait, what? Drinks?”
“See you tonight!” Caden said.
I hated it when Caden did that to me. When he slipped in plans we didn’t discuss just to get me out of the house. I didn’t want to go out and get drinks.
I just wanted to go home and get some rest. I had another long day at work I had to deal with tomorrow, and the last thing I needed was to be pouring alcohol down my throat.
But by the time eight o’clock rolled around and I was three hours over my specified schedule for the day, I was ready for a beer. Caden and I might give each other a hard time, but at the end of the day— especially a hard, busy day like today was— he was still my best friend.
And I had to hand it to the guy. He did have some good ideas sometimes. I wasn’t so sure his coffee shop or lumber company business ideas were among them, but, his happy hour idea was fucking perfect today.
Chapter 2
Zach
I followed Caden to the local bar in Brookings. It was his favorite spot because it was a dive bar with an ocean view. Caden tried to slum it up with me, but I knew he enjoyed the more decadent things in life. Flashy dinners at fancy steakhouses. Expensive bottles of wine and sophisticated women that were freaks in the sack.
Caden was the type of guy who wanted it all. He wanted the job that paid him millions and the ability to travel anywhere he wanted. He wanted to fuck all the girls he came across before finding that one he just couldn’t shake. He wanted the penthouse apartment with a beautiful woman to make it a home while she walked around barefoot and pregnant with his fourth child.
He wanted all that shit.
All I wanted, however, was to be left alone.
“A beer and a regular martini, please,” Caden said.
“I don’t know how you drink gin.”
“It tastes phenomenal,” he said.
“It tastes like pine needles. And olives are gross.”
“You’re gross. Drink your beer, and be happy I’m paying.”
“You don’t have to pay. I’ve got money of my own.”
“I’m sure you’ve got lots of it since you never spend it,” he said. “Are you still living in that falling apart cabin of yours?”
“Yep, and it’s treating me just fine,” I said.
I preferred the fucking term “rustic.”
“You know it’s way out there in the mountains where no woman would ever want to live?”
“Good thing I’m not looking for a woman to live with me, like you are,” I said.
“I don’t want a woman to live with me. But I do want to make sure I tailor my life to suit that type of lifestyle in the future. When are you going to start thinking about settling down and starting a family?”
“Never, because that’s not what I want.”
“Oh, come on. You’re quiet, but you have yourself a decent amount of experience with women. I’m sure any girl would be lucky to snag you.”
“I’m not a family man, okay?”
“You know you won’t be like your old man, right?” he asked.
“Bring him up one more time and this bottle won’t make it in the trash can in one piece.”
“Is that a threat that you’ll beat me with it?” he asked.
No shit, Sherlock. I clenched my jaw and stayed silent as I drew a deep breath through my nose.
“Don’t let your old man take that shit from you. If you don’t want a family, then don’t have one. But if your reasoning for not having a family is because you think you’ll be like him, then he’s winning.”
“Whatever,” I said.
“Another beer for my friend, please,” Caden called out to the bartender.
I took the opened beer and threw it back faster than I’d intended. The last thing I wanted to talk about was my father. That abusive fuck could stay in my past for all I cared. I didn’t need a damn thing from him, nor did I need anything in my life making him think he could wiggle his way back in. Like a wife or a child that made him think we could all be one big happy fucking family.
“You know what I think the perfect business for us would be?” Caden asked.
“What?”
“Photography.”
“I really hate you sometimes,” I said.
“Just hear me out. I’ve got a little bit of an artistic streak and you’re a nature person, right? I mean, your haunted warehouse apartment thing has a waterfront view. You gotta be a nature person to like that, right?”
“I rent the place because it’s cheap,” I said.
“And has no central air, but I digress. Photography or something like that. I could take pictures.
You could fix shit that broke. I could deal with the customers, and you could pick out the venues. It would be perfect. You wouldn’t have to interact with people, and we could split shit fifty-fifty.”
“Now you just gotta learn everything there is to know about photography,” I said.
“Did someone say photography?”
I turned my head to find where in the world that sultry voice came from. There was a woman taking a seat next to me. Her fiery red hair bobbed just at her chin. She had slim features and perfect little handfuls of tits sitting right there on her chest. She had them shoved up underneath her chin while a belt cinched her waist.
She was too skinny for my tastes, but she was looking at me like she was trying not to drool. I figured she would do, for tonight. Which was the only future I ever thought about with any woman.
“Caden Griffin. This is my friend, Zach Harte.”
“Well, Zach Harte. I was standing over there admiring your tattoos, and I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation.”
“You a photographer?” I asked.
“I am. It’s a side gig.”
“What do you do for a living?” Caden asked.
“I’m a teacher,” she said.
“If I had a teacher that looked like you growing up, I would’ve been in trouble,” I said, just to lay my flirting on really thick.
Her giggle was low and rich. Like hot caramel being poured over a freshly-baked cake.
“What does this tattoo represent?” she asked.
Her fingertips were soft on my skin, and I knew she’d be the woman to keep me company tonight.
Well, for the majority of the night anyway.
“It’s a phoenix rising from its ashes,” I said. “I got it just after I graduated high school.”
“Ah, signaling a new beginning in life,” she said. “And what about this one?”
I walked her through the tattoos on my arms one by one. The strokes of her fingertips became longer and more languid, and soon, her whole hand was wrapped around my forearm. She had deep, dark brown eyes that were pulling me in, and I could see her lips dancing from my eyes to my lips.
I slammed down more of my alcohol and the more I drank, the better looking she became. I leaned in close and gave her a grin, waiting for her to close the gap between the two of us.
If she did, she was mine.
And her lips felt wonderfully soft against mine.
“Wanna get out of here?” I asked. “My cabin is near the waterfall. There’s a little hike to get there so we should go before dark.”
“Oh, what a beautiful view that must be,” she said. “I’d love to… take it in.”
My cock jumped at her words as I helped her slide off her stool.
She would be decent company for a majority of the night, but she’d be gone before the morning sun rose. No company I kept at night like this ever stayed overnight. Women read way too much into things and got the wrong impression that way.
If I kicked her out in the middle of the night, she knew she was a one-night stand. I didn’t have to be rude about it, but I did have to be stern sometimes. If women stayed until the morning, they got ideas about making breakfast, and soon, they were showing up at random points, asking me if I was free, and it just became a complicated mess.
Yep. This woman, whose name I wouldn’t remember, would do just fine for some company.
Until one in the morning, at least.
“Hello there, sexy! I bring lunch.”
Kami grinned at the bag in my hand. “Oh, you sweet little lifesaver, you. Thank you so much. And you went to the Sub Palace! Bless you.”
“Only the best for my best friend.”
“I’m your only friend, Paige.”
“Semantics,” I said, winking.
“Did you put extra banana peppers on it?” she asked.
“Do I ever not? They had this new chipotle mayonnaise thing going on. I got a little container of it in case you wanted to put some on your sandwich.”
“I love their chipotle mayo.”
“You like anything spicy, so I figured I’d roll with it.”
“It’s why I like you so much,” she said, grinning.
“So, how’s business today?” I asked.
“Rip-roaring. I haven’t gotten off my feet since I got in at five this morning.”
“You backed up or something?”
“Only always. It seems like my mornings are starting earlier and earlier.”
“Sucks when you’re such a good baker,” I said.
I followed Kami into the back of her bakery where we sat down at a little table in the corner. I’d known Kami for years. We met one another in college. She was getting a degree in music, and I was getting a degree in art history, and then we graduated and did absolutely nothing with our degrees. I guess that was how things went these days, though.
“How goes the private investigating?” Kami asked. “Anything juicy you can tell me?”
“Three weeks ago, I wrapped up four separate cases. All clients who thought their spouses were cheating. Two were cheating, one was dressing in drag and performing at a nightclub, and the other was living a fucking double life.”
“Like, another wife and kids and shit?” Kami asked.
“Well, another husband and kids and shit,” I said.
“The woman was living the double life?!”
“Oh, yeah. And I called it from the very beginning. I knew there was something fishy about her. Her husband came to me and wanted me to look into her because he thought she was trying to steal his money from him or something. That wasn’t the case at all. I was glad I came with plenty of pictures because he didn’t believe me at first.”
“One of those guys who think they’re heaven’s gift to women?” she asked.
“Exactly. It was insane. Anyway, last week I wrapped up my last client for the month. You’ll never guess what the fuck was going on.”
“Do I need to strap in?”
“Oh, hell yes. Get this. The woman comes in wanting me to track down her husband. He’s been gone for days, but the police don’t want to do anything about it. So, the first thing I do is go to the police station and figure out why the fuck they aren’t taking on a missing person’s case. Turns out, the head of the police station knows this woman’s husband. He told the head of the police station that he was going on a ‘business trip.’”
“And we know what that’s code for,” Kami said.
“So we thought, at least. He wasn’t hard to find with all the money he was blowing. In Cabo. Turns out, he was on a business trip… with his boyfriend.”
“Oh shit.”
“Yeah. Blowing thousands of dollars left and right. Not to mention… his boyfriend.”
“You’re insane, Paige.”
“It was juicy. The woman was absolutely mortified. It took me three days to piece everything together, just in time for him and his boyfriend to disembark at the airport.”
“Let me tell you, these stories are the only reason why I’m not still on your ass to get you to pursue your art.”
“Come on, we’ve talked about this,” I said.
“I’m just saying that it’s what you went to school for.”
“No, I went to school for art history.”
“But everyone in that program knew you needed to be there for just art. Or design. Or something that had to do with your painting and your eye for design and color. Come on, Paige. Do you really wanna be a P.I. for the rest of your life?”
“Look, it was a job I was handed out of college, and I’m pretty good at it. Is it my dream? No. Is it my passion? Not really. Does it pay the bills and then some? Hell, yeah. I’m living comfortably, which is more than a lot of people in this economy can say right now.”
“But your happiness means something to me.”
“And I’m happy! Look at us! Gossipping about juicy shit over the best subs in town! Come on. You take one step outside that door and you can smell the damn ocean, for fuck’s sake.”
“I just want my best friend to be happy,” she said. “Not just content.”
“And I’ll get there. But right now, I’m okay with where I’m at. Sometimes it’s frustrating, but that’s life. I mean, look at you. You got a music degree playing cello, and now, you’re one of the most successful bakers in the area. Who would’ve thought that?”
“Me. I’ve always been a damn fine baker.”
“But that’s not what you went to school for. Remember when we first met our sophomore year? How you were hellbent on playing in the London Symphony Orchestra for the rest of your life?”
“Yeah, I was going to study abroad in London and then just never come back,” she said.
“But things changed. Student loan debt happened, and you started selling shit out of your apartment to help make ends meet. It spiraled, and look at you. You’re happy!”
“I’m chugging down coffee at four in the morning to come bake cakes.”
“And the sparkle in your eye is unmistakable,” I said.
“I just want you to have the same, Paige.”
“And I get it, Kami. I do. I’ll get there eventually. But right now, I’m okay with where I’m at. Maybe I’ll save up all my money and travel the world and paint until I die. But I need money to do that. And being a private investigator gives it to me.”
“Which reminds me, when was the last time you went out?” she asked.
“Oh, no. Not this topic again.”
“Come on. You chase down cheating spouses for a living. Even they’re getting more than you.”
“I’m not talking about this,” I said.
“When was the last time a man just gave it to you good?”
“Kami.”
“Really reamed it until your legs shook?”
“Seriously?” I asked.
“Used your body for his pleasure before diving between your legs?”
“I hate you.”
“You love me, and I’m worried about you. You stay cooped up in that office all day with a boss who always jumps down your throat. The stress alone will kill you before you’re forty if you don’t release it somehow.”
“I’ve got plenty of toys to keep me company,” I said.
“Which is a pathetic replacement for an actual man. One with muscles and smooth skin and a baby face.”
“You know that’s not the kind of man I like, anyway,” I said.
“Yeah, you like them rugged. Chiseled. With dark hair and a brooding stare.”
“And tattoos. Don’t ever forget those.”
“Anyway, you should follow your dreams,” she said.
“I will when I have the money to. Now, can we please eat and revel in the fact that it’s Friday?”
“Wait, it’s Friday?” she asked.
“Yeah?”
“Oh, shit. I’m so fucking behind. I gotta get back to work. You can stay as long as you’d like, but I’ve got four cakes due tomorrow, and I haven’t decorated a damn one of them.”
“Whoops,” I said, grinning. “So, I guess you don’t want to hear about the new client I’ve got?”
“Speak up and tell all, beautiful!” she said.
“My boss pulled me into his office this morning and told me I have a meeting with a high-end client. My first one.”
“Your first what?” she asked.
“High-end client!”
“Ah! The big bucks. What’s going on with this guy? Cheating spouse? Double life fears? Murder suspect?”
“Don’t know any of that stuff yet. I won’t until the file hits my desk Monday. All I know is that this client is gonna be paying me some serious money, and the client requested me personally.”
“Oh, shit,” Kami said. “Look at you, getting a reputation and all that.”
“I know, right? It’s the first time I’ve ever been personally requested. I’m really excited about this one. He’s going to be paying me so much that he’ll be the only client I take on next month.”
“That sounds so nice.”
“Nicer than being a starving artist?” I asked.
“Oh, I haven’t dropped that shtick yet. You’re too talented to let that painting go to waste. Please tell me you’re still painting in your spare time.”
“Yep. It’s why I’m not having sex. I’m painting all over the place.”
“I don’t know if you’re being sarcastic or not, so I’m just gonna roll with it,” she said.
“Honestly? I don’t know if I’m being sarcastic or not, either.”
“You’re losing it.”
“When was that ever a question?” I asked, grinning.
I took the first bite of my sandwich and moaned as I chewed. The Sub Palace was known for its sandwiches all along the coast of Oregon. I’d met people in the line at the shop that traveled an hour just to get there.
Their bread was baked fresh, their meat was from locally-sourced farmers, their seafood subs were to-fucking-die-for, and their seasoned chips were made in-house. It was expensive as hell, but I didn’t care. It was worth every damn bite I took whenever I could stand to wait in the line.
“How’s that sandwich?” Kami asked.
“I don’t know. Take a break and come take a bite. I brought you lunch so you’d actually eat it. Not leave it to sniff every once in a while.”
“You know that’s how us girls lose weight. We sniff the food we can’t have, and if we get desperate we take a bite, chew ten times, then spit it out.”
“Not me,” I said. “I eat whatever the fuck I want.”
“That’s because you carry your curves in all the right places. My weight shoots to my stomach. Yours fills out your hips, tits, and ass. I hate you, by the way.”
“Whatever. You know how hard it is finding clothes to fucking fit my weird-ass body?”
“Boo hoo. You have a body men drool over. Suck my dick.”
“Only if you start with me,” I said, smiling. “Come on. Put the damn fondant down and come take a bite.”
“This isn’t fondant. It’s just regular icing. I hate fondant because people can’t eat it. What’s the use of filling up a cake with something people can’t eat? I might as well put cardboard in it, to get it to stand up the way fondant does, but even better.”
“Who the fuck cares whether it’s fondant or regular icing or why? Come on. Come sit and eat. You can pull a long day or come in early or whatever. But if you pass out face-first in that cake because you didn’t eat, you’ll have to start all over.”
“Fine. Okay. The fondant issue is important to me. But I’ll come eat. Under one condition.”
“What?” I asked, groaning.
“When you know everything there is to know about this rich-ass client of yours, you have to call me.”
“You know I can’t do that until a case is wrapped up,” I said.
“Oh, come on. Who’s gonna know?”
I shook my head. “I can tell you everything except names once the case is finished.”
“You take this job too seriously.”
“Sucks to be an adult,” I said. “Now eat.”
“Yes, Mom.”
“I’ll take it if it means you eat. This sandwich was too expensive for it to go to waste.”
“Thank you for lunch, by the way,” she said.
“Not a problem. You’ve been busy all week. I figured your Friday would be no different.”
The two of us sat there in the back of her bakery and enjoyed the rest of our lunch. I was due back to work in thirty minutes, but it was time well spent with Kami. She was the only person I really talked to anymore since my job kept me in the shadows and cooped up in an office. Had she set up her bakery anywhere else in the state, I probably would’ve lost contact with her as well.
“When do you need to go back to work?” Kami asked.
“I gotta leave in about five. I walked here.”
“That’s why your legs are so damn strong,” she said. “You walk everywhere. Don’t you own a car?”
“I do. But gas is expensive, and I enjoy the fresh air.”
“You’re strange.”
“I love you, too. But I gotta get going.”
I shoved the last of the sandwich into my mouth before I grabbed my chips and my drink. Kami stood up and gave me a massive hug, encompassing my entire body as she pulled me close. I couldn’t even swallow the rest of my sandwich until she let me go. Then I chased it with some soda before I cleared my throat.
“What are you doing this weekend?” I asked.
“Tomorrow’s booked, but Sunday I’m free,” Kami said.
“Cajun shrimp pasta at my place with a movie?” I asked.
“I’ll bring the wine,” she said, smiling.
Chapter 4
Zach
I woke up that morning with the taste of a stranger on my lips and a used condom on the floor next to me. This was why people needed to clean up after sex. But I had been too tipsy last night to do anything but fall asleep after getting the job done with the woman from the bar. I groaned as I threw the covers off me, and then a small whimper came from the other side of the bed.
“Watch it,” a woman said.
I recognized that sultry voice. Those low tones and that sensual accent. I looked over at the one window in my apartment and saw the sunlight streaming through.
Shit. This chick had stayed the night.
“Morning,” she said.
She threw her arm over me, and her lips attacked my neck. My morning wood was throbbing, but my mind was whirling. How many fucking beers did I have last night? Not enough to be drunk. That was for sure.
Was I that tired from work? It hadn’t been a strenuous day. Not compared to some of the days I’d had.
I fucking got lazy. That was what happened. And now I was about to pay the price.
“All right, you need to go,” I said.
“Before I make us some breakfast?” she asked.
“Yep.”
I slid off my bed and tugged on my pants. I looked back at the woman in bed, and I could see the heated stare rising up in her eyes. Her fiery red hair was mussed from our romp in the sack, and she was clinging to the comforter as she pulled it up over her naked body.
I couldn’t even remember what her naked body looked like.
Like all the other ones, I supposed.
“But you have this nice comfy cabin and no one to share it with. It’s so quaint and cozy; perfect for enjoying a morning meal together. Let me just fix us something—”
“I’ll call you a car,” I said.
I grabbed my phone off the floor and opened up the Uber app. The first time I found out that one of those drivers would come all the way out to the edge of nowhere, the rugged forest where I lived, I was so grateful I decided to use them every time I found myself in one of these situations— whether I was too tipsy to drive, or too close for comfort with a girl who needed to leave.
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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