Page 34 of The Devil's Scars

“Because,” he said, his voice a low growl. “You’ve ruined me for all other women… utterly ruined me.”

She stared at him. “Ummmm. What?”

“Yeah.” Slowly, like he had all the time in the world, Scars put his boxer shorts back on. “I’d love to come with you, do it all again on a nice soft mattress. Then I’d like to get a few hours sleep, wake up, have you scratch up my back some more, with lots of talking in between. I mean… I’m an awesome bedmate. Don’t snore, don’t steal the covers, and I’m a super-comfy pillow to fall asleep on.”

“Yeah. No. I don’t sleep with men in my bed.”

Thatstopped him, and he cocked his dark head at her. “You don’t?”

“Never.”

“How come?”

“Because I can’t fall asleep with a man in my bed. I sure as hell can’t fall asleep with a man touching me.”

“So, wait… you never fall asleep in a man’s arms?”

“Never have.”

“Well.” He grinned at her. “That’s because you’ve never met the right guy.”

“I still haven’t.”

“Hey, Zoe… c’mon.” He shook his head. “Look, this was amazing, right? Why not have some more?”

“More?”

“More kissing. More touching. More orgasms. More laughing. More talking. More of everything. Just – more. I mean, why not? Neither one of us has to be anywhere before noon, so why not spend the night together?”

She sighed. He was being very upfront about the fact that he just wanted one night of orgasms and fun with her, just ‘more’ fucking. She supposed that women usually fell for this whole zealous, passionate, ‘let’s cuddle and wake up together’ line. She had to admit, it was tempting, as was the thought of more earth-shattering orgasms.

But that was pointless, all of it. She’d needed some fun, and so had he, and it was now post-fun time. Her gorgeous no-strings stress-release had come through amazingly well – and this was now the time that they were both supposed to go their separate ways. No hard feelings, no expectations, no plans for the future.

So why the hell was Scars acting like this was a damn date?

“You’re not coming with me,” she snapped, angry that he was trying to unilaterally change the universal code of totally meaningless one-night-stands. “End of discussion.”

He stood still, studying her body language. Man, she was as cold as ice all of a sudden, and it was a jarring contrast to her heated writhing and moaning of less than five minutes before.

“I’m really not?” he said carefully.

“No.” She stuck her feet into her shoes. “You’re staying here and looking for your next fuck.”

Dumbfounded, he stared at her. “My next…”

“Yeah. Your next willing female. A handsome boy like you, you have your choice, I’m sure, so you can still do it in a bed tonight, if you want.” She nodded over at the far corner. “Oh, look. There’s one right over there, just waiting for you and your next mark.”

“OK, stop.” He shook his head, strangely hurt, but also very, very pissed off. “That’s bullshit is what that is, and…”

Suddenly feeling that it was imperative that she get the hell out of there now, knowing that if she didn’t, she’d fall into his arms and beg him to come home with her, she grabbed her purse, swung it over her shoulder.

“Thanks, Scars,” she muttered, avoiding all eye contact. “It was fun. See you around.”

“Wait. Zoe, wait.” He took three long strides and put his hand on the door to stop her from bolting. “Can I see you again?”

She stared up at him. “I work for The Road Devils now, Scars. Of course you’re going to see me again.”

“That’s not what I meant.” He tucked her hair behind her ear, tried not to notice that she moved away from his touch, and he fumbled a bit, didn’t find quite the right words for what he really wanted. He put his hand on the wall next to her, trying to find his balance there. “I meant… see you again like this.”

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