draining the rest of her drink, she slammed the glass down on the sidebar on her way to the separate sleeping area in the back. Sliding the divider shut, she effectively closed herself off from the rest of the plane.
It was better this way.
She needed to hate me.
Because if she even sort of liked me, I would eventually disappoint her somewhere down the road. It was a pattern in my life. I was a commitment-phobe of the highest variety. I never liked to be in one place too long, or get into any kind of routine, especially one of a domestic nature. I was an on-the-go type of person and never wanted to be tied down. Or caged.
Frankly, it was the same with women.
I knew I was incapable of keeping one woman happy for the rest of her life. It wasn’t in the cards for me, and I’d accepted that a long time ago. I was much better at satisfying a woman’s physical, rather than emotional, needs anyway. That was what I excelled at, and the women who came to me, knowing what I was about, appreciated that. They knew the score because I told them outright. Told them what not to expect. So, at the end of the evening, there would be no hurt feelings, no longing stares, no frustrated glares.
I left them happy, satiated, and well-tended.
Not broken and miserable.
And thanks to my years of sluttery, I’d become quite adept at sex. I hadn’t been lying to Lexi about that. Since I’d learned long ago that I couldn’t give most women what they needed long-term, I focused instead of fulfilling their short-term needs. Namely, in the form of sexual release and ultimate abandonment of their inhibitions. I’d fine-tuned my skill set, acquired a cash hoard of tricks between the sheets, and become somewhat of a connoisseur of gratification.
A virtuoso of vaginas.
A pro at pussy.
An authority on getting ass.
“I’m a dick even inside my own head,” I muttered before pouring the rest of the whiskey down my throat.
Unable to be left alone with my asinine thoughts any longer, I pulled out my phone and dialed Cris. He was the one I usually called before anyone else when shit went down, even before Dad.
He answered on the third ring. “Has the honeymoon ended yet? Or did it ever start?”
I rolled my eyes while he chuckled at his own lame ass joke. “Don’t hold your breath. You won’t fucking believe how my wedding day ended, though.”
He hesitated. “I take it not with cake and dancing?”
I snorted. “We didn’t get that far. Some assholes with guns crashed the reception.”
How pathetic was it that I’d gotten married less than twenty-four hours before, and I’d never felt more alone in my life?
After shutting myself inside the small bedroom on the plane, I’d stewed in my anger for a while before eventually falling asleep. And I’d remained alone back there until the plane touched down on the tarmac and I’d been forced to come out. Nico and I didn’t speak in the car during the drive to the oceanfront villa he’d rented for this trip that, naturally, had to be gorgeous with breathtaking views.
Seeing as how we’d arrived at the villa in the middle of the night, we’d gotten a few more hours of sleep—in separate bedrooms, of course. Still without speaking a word to each other. The cherry on top of the cake was when he’d bolted out the door before I’d woken up this morning. Off to his business meetings or whatever.
Leaving me alone. Again.
As stunning as the villa was, if he expected me to bar myself indoors and wait for him to come home like a good little wifey, he was stupider than I thought. The sky was cloudless and sunny, the ocean outside the windows was sparkling and inviting, and I needed food in a desperate way. My stubbornness had prevented me from leaving the bedroom on the plane to search for food. And I’d been too tired when we’d arrived at the villa to raid the kitchen.
My stomach had started eating itself hours ago.
After dressing in a mustard yellow sundress and sandals with turquoise beading, I slung my purse strap over my shoulder and headed for the door. Something on the kitchen counter caught my eye on the way out.
A wad of cash. Croatian kuna, from the looks of it.
He left me money?
My first impulse was to snatch it up and spend every last coin. Let him buy me useless knickknacks