Chapter 5
Five
Stud
The dawn creeps weakly through my bedroom blinds, pale and cold, the early winter light stretching across the hardwood floor like it’s tired before it even gets started.
I blink awake to the quiet tick of my bedside clock and the soft, rhythmic breathing of the woman lying half sprawled across my chest.
Jerri, Gina, Jeanie, what was her damn name?
No—Gina. Right. Gina.
Maybe.
Pretty little thing, twenty-something, dark hair spilling everywhere, her leg thrown over my thigh like she owns real estate there.
She doesn’t.
She never will.
I clear my throat once, low. “Time to get up.”
“Mmmph,” she mumbles, burrowing her nose into my shoulder. Her hand slides up my stomach, nails grazing skin. “You’re warm.”
“So is the sun,” I mutter, giving her hip a gentle tap. “Rise and shine.”
She groans and flops onto her back dramatically. The sheet pulls down just enough to make me look away out of sheer habit—not because I’m shy, but because I’m already mentally halfway out the door. Her tits were great for last night, today, I have shit to do that doesn’t involve fucking her again.
A man can enjoy a night without promising tomorrow. I’ve been clear about that.
She stretches like a cat, arms above her head, then rolls onto her stomach and smiles up at me, eyes glittering with mischief.
“Mornin’, handsome.”
“Morning,” I respond, neutral, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. My back cracks. My knees complain. Fifty-eight feels like sixty-eight some mornings.
She makes a soft, flirty little noise and pats the mattress beside her. “Come back here. I wasn’t done with you.”
Twisting my body I look back to her. “Yeah, you are.”
Her smile falters. Just a hair. “Oookay… grumpy.”
“I warned you last night I had to get moving early. Got shit to do.”
She rolls onto her side, propping herself on one elbow, the sheet slipping dangerously low as she eyes me. “What’s the rush? A little time together, a shower maybe. We could get breakfast. There’s that little diner—”
“Tina,” I remark, voice firm. And yes, I say the wrong name on purpose.
Her lips pout. She’s good at pouting. “What?”
I look back at her, arms crossing out of habit. “Pretty clear, Tina. It’s time for you to head out.” Her brows furrow at my misuse of her name again, but she doesn’t actually correct me. I stare at her like she’s stupid because she is if she thinks pouting or whining will get her anywhere with me.
There it is—that flicker behind her eyes.
The shift from playful to wounded. I see it a lot.
It still doesn’t change anything. I don’t understand why women assume something will change after a bit of pussy.
I am very clear with my refusal to commit.
I’ll spend time with a woman, even regularly hang out.
What I won’t do is have a label, or be monogamous again.
I was married before. Twenty-one years I lived the life of husband, father, provider, protector, lover, and enemy number one to my wife Tammy Sue.
No one will ever have that piece of me again.
What I had with her wasn’t perfect, but it was us.
I loved her like I’ll never love anyone.
She knew me and loved me like no one ever will again.
Cancer took her from me and our kids. Along with her life, she took my heart with her to the next realm.
I’m man enough to know what I bring to the table and where my shortcomings lay.
Which is why I’m always up front with any woman I fuck.
Before my dick slides in they have to understand they will never be my only one.
We can have fun, I’ll even take them out for a meal sometimes or a short trip, but I will not give up the others.
“Already?” she asks softly. “You’re just gonna kick me out the second you wake up?”
I groan. “Obviously not the second I woke up since you’re still here yapping. How about less talking and more walking.” I correct, moving to grab my jeans off the chair. “We had a good night. You know how this works.”
She bites her lower lip. “You could let me stay a little longer. I think we could have some fun to start the day off right.”
“Nope.”
Her shoulders stiffen. “Why not? You don’t have plans. You said—”
My frustration is growing. “Look Gina, I got shit to do that is not you. I’m not a patient man, I’m not even a good man. What I am is a man who told you up front what the deal was and somehow you have blurred some lines in your sleep.”
She gives me this look that is a wounded damn dog. Too bad for her I’m immune to the shit.
“Look, I got plans. I’m goin’ on vacation.” I tug my jeans up, slide on a belt. “And you’re not coming.”
Her mouth drops open. “Vacation?! Where?”
“Away.” I pull on a T-shirt, the fabric stretching tight across my chest. “Somewhere quiet. Somewhere you aren’t.”
“Well…” she starts, scooting to the edge of the bed, sheet clutched to her chest. “I could be quiet. I don’t have to talk the whole time. I can just… be with you.”
I turn, leveling her with a look that’s put grown men into retreat. “This ain’t that kind of relationship. This ain’t a relationship at all. In fact, once you get the fuck gone I won’t answer your calls and you need not show up anywhere.”
Silence falls, thick and heavy.
She swallows hard. “But… we’ve been seeing each other for months, dinners and stuff. Like I thought we were maybe dating. Did I read it wrong?”
Shaking my head in disbelief, I lay it out for her.
“When I had an itch for young pussy, you got the call. Outside of that, we ain’t shit.
When I want some different from my usuals, I called you.
The times we go out to eat is because I gotta eat, don’t see why I gotta do it alone if you’re around.
” I remind her. “Exactly like I explained from the start. Now, you ain’t gotta worry about it because my calls won’t come anymore. ”
Her chin trembles. “I thought maybe… it could turn into something.”
Dammit.
I close my eyes for a second. Not because I feel guilty—I don’t lie about who I am. But because this right here is why I keep everything up front, no emotions, and serious boundaries. I tell them all from the beginning not to catch feelings. Why can’t they listen?
“Gina,” I say, letting some of the steel drop from my voice, “you’re a good woman.
Fun as hell. But I don’t do commitment.” The words are blunt, but practiced.
And all the same, they are my truth. “I’m not looking to settle down.
I’m not looking to get serious. And I damn sure don’t take company on vacation. ”
Her brows pull together, hurt slicing through her expression. “So what? I’m just a hookup? And that was it.”
“Yes,” I answer simply. An honest reply. “A good lay. But that’s all.”
She flinches like I slapped her.
It would be kinder to sugarcoat things, maybe—but sugarcoating is just lying with extra steps.
The truth is the truth. And I learned years ago when my wife died that lies of any kind rot the foundation of whatever life you think you’re building.
If I could turn back the hands of time, I would have been brutally honest with Tammy.
I wasn’t and I live with regrets from things I never did right by her.
Because of that, I will never give another woman all of me.
My wife deserved the man she never got. It would be a disrespect to her memory, the loyalty and love she gave to me if I gave another woman better than I did her.
No one will ever love me like she did and no one will ever have access to the pieces of my soul I gave to her.
Gina blinks rapidly, then looks away. “You could’ve told me if I asked for more it would be over.
Why do you get to be honest, and I can’t?
I’m telling you I want to see what this can be and I’m automatically kicked out of your life.
Sure, you explained clearly I would not be your only lover.
But that was when we first started. Now, it’s become a pretty steady thing, I see you almost every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday night.
I just wanted to see if we could have more than sex.
And because I bare my desires you shut me out forever. This doesn’t seem fair Stud.”
I laugh. I don’t try to hide my frustration.
“Stop the bullshit. I have been up front with you. I’m up front with every woman I fuck.
I laid it out multiple times.” I grab my socks, tug them on.
“Every time we meet up, I tell you exactly what we’re doin’—fuckin’.
You get my time. My attention. My hands.
My dick. My bed. But when I say go home?
You go home. We don’t have conversations and we don’t have arguments over why you’re not leaving. ”
She sits perfectly still on the edge of the mattress for a long moment.
Then she gives a sharp, bitter little laugh.
“I hate how much I like you,” she mutters.
“Even right now, you stand in front of me, smug, but I’m still wanting more than you’re ever gonna give me.
I don’t know what it is about you that twists me up inside. ”
“I warned you about that too,” I remark. I tell them all, enjoy the ride, but don’t fall in love.
She shakes her head, dark hair falling like a curtain around her face. Then she stands, sheet trailing, and starts gathering her clothes off the floor—panties near the dresser, jeans draped across my chair, bra half under the bed from where she tossed it without a care.
I turn away to give her privacy—not that last night left much to the imagination. I just don’t care to see the view ever again.
She dresses in silence. I don’t fill it. When she’s done, she slings her purse over her shoulder and stands by the door, uncertainty flickering there again.
“You,” she stammers, “you’ll maybe call me?” she asks with an innocent hope.
“Nope.” I give her the truth. “I’m not your guy anymore. You got an itch to fuck a Hellion, find another brother.”