The Two Week Stand - Samantha Towle Page 0,32

it’s only been a few weeks since I found out about their affair.

West is only offering a couple of weeks.

And it is only sex. I mean, we don’t even live on the same continent, for God’s sake. It’s not like I’ll see him again after this, and knowing that, there’s no way I’ll get attached to him.

And really, how attached could I get to someone in such a short period of time? I know West won’t get attached to me. He made that abundantly clear. Attachments are not his thing.

Why the hell am I making this into such a big deal? Why am I even thinking this through?

It would just be sex with a really, really good-looking guy. A holiday fling. People have them all the time. We’re only here for two weeks, and truthfully, it would be nice to not feel so shitty about myself.

Having sex makes you feel good. Great in fact. Especially when done with the right person who knows what they’re doing, and if West does sex as well as he talks about it, then I would be in for one hell of a fan-fucking-tastic time.

I’ll get to have a couple of weeks of great sex and then leave the island, high off all the sex we’ll have had, and I’ll be happy as a pig in shit. And I’ll take that feeling back home with me. I’ll be able to wear the good sex feelings that West will have given to me like an armor to protect myself from the reality that’s waiting at home for me.

And they do say the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. I’m not exactly sure who they are, but if it is the right way to get over heartbreak, then who better to get under than West?

So, I can lie here, lamenting over my crappy life, or I can go have sex with the hot American.

Hmm. Tough choice.

I sit up and slide my legs over the side of the bed.

But …

What if I do start to like him? What if I get attached and when it’s time to say good-bye, I’m sad, and I have no good feelings to take back home with me? Just more sadness.

I could get hurt again.

But could I possibly get any more hurt than I already have been? I highly doubt it. Some guy I just met isn’t going to hurt my heart as much as my own mother did.

God, why am I such an overthinker? Why can’t I just take a chance and have some fun with a gorgeous guy who is offering me orgasms? Well, I hope that’s what he’s offering.

Shit.

What if he’s really bad at sex? I mean, I’ve seen the morning wood that was straining against his shorts, but just because he’s got a big dick doesn’t mean he knows how to use it. Or how to give a woman an orgasm.

Tim couldn’t find my clit with a torch and a map. Seriously. I had to give him directions every time.

West could be just as clueless. A totally selfish lover.

But I won’t know this unless I have sex with him.

I could just have sex with him once. I don’t have to commit to anything.

Argh! For fuck’s sake.

I’m doing my own head in.

Why did he have to proposition me like that anyway? I mean, who does that?

Maybe it’s an American thing. Back home, a guy usually just hits on you in a bar, flirts a bit. Maybe you end up kissing, and then he asks you back to his place.

West laid it out like a transaction. I was half-expecting him to give me a contract to sign to say that I understood his terms of service.

It wasn’t the sexiest thing.

But the way he talks so openly about what he wants … me. Jesus, so fucking hot.

But no, it’s not a good idea.

No matter how hot he is, it’s just not a good idea for me to get tangled up with another guy so soon. I came here to get some space and give me time to clear my head. Not to get serviced by Captain America over there.

No. I’m gonna have to decline his offer.

In a year’s time, I’ll probably want to punch myself in the face for my stupidity at turning down sex with West, but I know it’s the right thing. I’m just not in the right place in my life right now.

Now, I just have to tell him.

I bite my lip, thinking.

I

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