The Exception (The Exception #1)

Prologue

Cane

If I close my eyes, maybe she’ll disappear.

“That was amazing. So good, Cane.”

Maybe not.

The woman nestled against me, her hand draping across my body. She stroked my skin, the intimacy of the action churning my stomach.

I switched on the bedside lamp, letting my eyes adjust to the bright light. Glancing at the clock, I pushed her hand away.

It’s not too late. She can still go home.

Sitting up, I swung my legs over the side of the bed. My body groaned in response as I stretched my arms overhead to work some life back into my exhausted muscles.

This girl was a decent choice for a last-minute decision. Memories of her contorted in various wicked ways while she screamed my name made my dick harden again.

“Do you want me to get us something to eat?”

Her nails grazed down my back, and I moved out of her reach. Her touch, like her voice, was more annoying than I remembered it being a few hours earlier.

That’s what an orgasm will do to you.

I twisted around. Her blond hair was spread across my pillows, and black makeup was smeared across her face. A part of me wanted to tell her she looked like hell, but a bigger part of me didn’t care enough to point it out. I just needed her gone.

Cheap perfume wafted through the air as she rolled onto her back.

I’m going to have to do laundry. Hell, I’ll probably just have to burn these sheets to get rid of that smell.

“I thought I would grab us some hamburgers. I could pick up some things for breakfast while I’m out.”

I cringed at the implications saturating her voice. “You’re going to need to tone that shit down.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Look, I have things to do tonight.” Her face was familiar, but her name—not so much.

“Oh, that’s fine. I can just wait here while you do what you need to do.” She flashed me her biggest smile and settled back into the sheets, looking way too comfortable in my bed.

“No. You’ll need to get up, get dressed, and go home.” I massaged my temples with my fingertips, trying to avoid the migraine inching its way into my skull.

For fuck’s sake! Why isn’t this ever as easy as they make it out to be? Maybe I should get them to sign some shit. A “This is a Fuck and Only a Fuck” disclaimer or something.

“I have no plans for tomorrow, Cane.”

“We’ve discussed this. We fuck. You leave.”

She had the nerve to look hurt.

“I didn’t think you would say that once we were done.”

“It was amazing. It is always amazing with me.” I flashed her a grin and watched her swoon.

That never gets old.

“Look, I don’t do this ‘sex and a sandwich’ thing. It’s not a news flash.”

“But Cane…”

“Why does it feel like we’ve been here before?” I took a deep breath, trying to remain calm.

Why do they complicate this? She knew the deal when she followed me home.

I ran my fingers through my short blond hair, scrubbing my scalp in annoyance.

“When I was here a few months ago, we had lunch, too. Remember? We sat out on the patio,” she said.

No. No memory of that.

I groaned.

Remember her face. Do not triple dip this one.

I glanced at her reclining against my pillows and fought hard not to sound as brusque as I felt. “I have a bunch of shit to do. You need to go.”

She sighed dramatically as she got up and found her jeans on the floor. I watched her ass jiggle as she pulled them on slowly, undoubtedly for my benefit.

I was tempted.

But no. That would only make getting her out of my house even more challenging, and she simply wasn’t good enough to waste any more time on.

Instead, I sat and enjoyed the show. She turned to face me and pulled her shirt over her head, her eyes never leaving mine. She tucked her bra into her purse.

She was gone after a final glance over her shoulder, presumably to give me time to change my mind.

And I was alone again—just the way I liked it.