Page 16 of Mr. Wicked

That was why this—a few hours, an overnight tops—was enough.

“Jovana, you’re perfect. I don’t want you to take this personal.”

“You just ate me out on your kitchen counter and fucked me and you don’t want me to take this personal?” She sat up off the pillows and folded her legs in front of her. In that brief amount of time, I saw a change. A reset. “Maybe ...” Her voice trailed off as she stared at me, her expression telling me she was deep in thought. “Maybe that’s the way you’ve done things in the past, never willing to compromise on anything, so it’s just been easy for you to move on. But I’m different.” She put her hand on top of mine. “I’m not like the others. Something tells me you know that.” Her warmth stayed until she moved her fingers to my chest, touching the center. It was a light graze, like a whisper in the wind, that I would have missed unless I was paying attention. “You feel it. I know you do.”

So many had tried to fix me.

To turn me into someone I wasn’t.

They’d all failed.

She’d fail too.

“That doesn’t change what I’m capable of—or in this case, what I’m not capable of.” She wanted a tomorrow, and I could only give her a right now. “I am who I am.”

“Which is?”

I took a breath, curious if this warning was going to earn me a slap across the face or if she was going to fight me with her words. “A man who doesn’t believe in commitment. Marriage. Or any of that shit.”

“What you are is an asshole.”

“But we had fun.” I’d rather she hate me than cry. Her tears were something I couldn’t deal with. “And there’s no reason for that fun to be over. I have”—I glanced at my phone, touching the screen to check the time—“six more hours until I have to get up for work.”

I would like nothing more than to devour her again.

To sink myself into her beauty and get the chance to savor her once more.

Something about her was so incredibly addictive.

She laughed. “Oh yeah, a straight-up fucking asshole. If you think I’d come anywhere near you after what you just said to me, then you must be nuts.”

“We had a great time—at least I thought we did. I don’t remember promising you anything but that and an orgasm. And I gave you both. I’m sorry if you felt this was going to turn into more.”

She shook her head, staring at me like I was unrecognizable, before she got up from the bed and disappeared down the hallway. She returned fully dressed less than a minute later. Standing in the doorway, she raised her hand, showcasing her middle finger. “See you around, Grayson.”

“You will. I’m at your bar at least once a week.”

She sighed. “Just my luck.”

“I’ll call you a rideshare—”

“Don’t bother.”

Before I could say another word, she was gone, and I heard the click of my front door.

Using the tablet on my nightstand, I called down to the doorman and told him to make sure my guest got into a rideshare and to text me once she was safely inside one.

Just because I didn’t do second dates didn’t mean I was totally fucking heartless.

Parched, I got up from bed, but before I went into the kitchen to grab a drink, I picked up my pants from the floor, grabbing my credit card and the receipt that I’d shoved into my pocket when she’d handed them to me.

For some reason, I unfolded the small piece of paper, my attention falling to the bottom, where she’d signed my name and written the total.

Her signature wasn’t even close to mine, but that wasn’t what surprised me.

It was that instead of the $200 tip that I’d instructed her to leave, she’d written zero, giving herself absolutely nothing.

“Jovana,” I said out loud, glancing toward my bedroom door even though she wasn’t there, “you’re right. You’re nothing like the others.”

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