For the time we’re together, I’ll be good to her. I’ll make her feel good about herself. All the while making us both come hard and often.
I might not be cut out for a relationship. But I will never make a woman feel shitty about herself.
I’ll make her feel beautiful and sexy. I’ll make her feel everything that attracts me to her.
You don’t need to be a prick to be a player.
I’m just a guy who likes sex but who knows that a relationship isn’t for him. But I don’t want to be the asshole who hurts people who really don’t deserve to be hurt. And Dillon is definitely one of those people.
Wordlessly, she picks up her beer bottle and presses the mouth of it to her lips. Tips it up, pouring the liquid into her mouth.
I watch the way her delicate throat works on a swallow as she takes the beer into her body. Lucky fucking beer.
Her tongue sneaks out and licks her lips.
And my mind goes straight to the gutter. Thoughts of that tongue of hers licking the length of my dick. Parting those lips as I slowly feed my cock into her mouth, hitting the back of her throat.
Fuck.
I’m getting hard, just thinking about it. And getting a boner while wearing these fucking swim shorts isn’t the best idea. I have a big dick. That’s not bragging. Just a fact. And these shorts ain’t concealing any boner. I’ve already shocked and scandalized Dillon. I don’t want to tip her over the edge.
Not yet anyway.
She places the bottle back on the table, keeping hold of the neck of it with her delicate fingers.
“I have to ask, for obvious reasons … are you single? Or do you have someone back home? Wife, girlfriend, husband, boyfriend? And I want you to be honest with me.”
“Like I told you last night when you asked me, no. I don’t have anyone in my life.”
“Bloody alcohol fog,” she mutters, and I chuckle. “So, this … what you’re suggesting …”
“Us fucking.”
“Yeah, um, well, isn’t this … a bit … I don’t know … strange? Sitting here, talking about it. What I mean is, people usually, you know, meet, and then it just happens … naturally. There’s an instant attraction, a spark or whatever. They catch each other’s eyes a few times. One strikes up a conversation. They spend time talking. Eventually, it leads on to a kiss, and then maybe, you know …”
“They fuck.”
“You say that word a lot.”
“It’s a good word. Great in fact. And, yes, what you said is how most of the population hooks up. I’m not most people.”
“I’m starting to see that.”
I chuckle before taking a drink of my own beer. “Look, Dillon, if I’m upfront with you, then there’s no chance of mixed signals. Sure, I could do all the romancing stuff. Long gazes, accidental touches. Find a reason to move closer to you. Pull you in for a kiss and then take you back to your villa and fuck you senseless. But then, a few hours later, when we were done fucking—”
“A few hours?” she interrupts, her eyes widening again.
I hold back a smug grin.
There are two things in life I excel at. Football and fucking.
I put the bottle down on the table and hold her stare. “Minimum. And after the hours of fucking and we both came down from the high, I’d then have to broach the subject of how I wasn’t interested in ever having a relationship and that sex was all I could offer you. So, yeah, I could be that guy, who isn’t upfront and ensures I get to fuck you even if just once and lays it all out afterward. But I’m not that guy. I will always be upfront with the women I want to fuck. And currently, you are who I want to fuck.”
“I don’t think anyone who comes on holiday is looking for a relationship. Especially a woman who is on her honeymoon, sans groom.” She points a finger at herself.
“Fair enough. But I still won’t lead you into something without you knowing the rules.”
“Rules? You make it sound like a game.”
I smile. “Games can be fun. Especially when both people are playing the same game and are fully clear on how to play.”
Her delicate neck moves on a swallow, and she looks away, finally breaking our gaze. “You said you never want a relationship.” She looks back to me. “As in ever?”