Page 80 of Clash
“Yeah, tall, dark, and dangerous.”
That wicked smile returned, turning my insides a mushy goo that I hated with every sputtering breath that belted out of me.
“The only thing dangerous about me is my dick.”
Yeah, vulgar and trashy Clash is back again. Why did I hate to love him and love to hate him?
“You’re a vile human being.”
He stretched, every corded muscle rippling beneath his shirt, his massive forearms flexing as he poised them over his head and yawned.
“And yet, you can’t take your eyes off of me.”
“It’s repulsion.”
“Lust is a better word for it. Admit it, Gina, the idea of fucking me intrigues the fuck out of you. Especially after the other night.”
Rolling my eyes, I let out a frustrated breath. “Your repugnance is exhausting.”
“If you want to be exhausted, sweetheart, the bedroom is upstairs.” His eyes met mine in a silent fight, the room swirling with sexual tension that could light a forest on fire. Every part of me was thrumming, the idea of sleeping with someone other than Eric, just the thought of it felt forbidden and as he said, so goddamn intriguing.
I glanced over at my son who was fast asleep on the bed, our hushed voices doing nothing to rouse him out of his peaceful slumber. I had to stay strong and fight my attraction for Clash, I couldn’t bring another dangerous man into our lives again—couldn’t risk the heartbreak and shattered feeling of helplessness that being with someone like him would bring.
“I detest everything about you.”
He shrugged. “Join the club.” For some reason, he started staring off into space, his mind elsewhere.
“Are you always this crude and full of yourself?”
He laughed. “Honestly, probably. Why be cordial and nice when being an asshole is much more fun?”
“Do women actually fall for your shit?”
His head snapped my way, and he grinned. “You’d be surprised.”
“Probably not. After what you told me the other day, I bet your roster needs to be read like a scroll just to keep track of all the women your dick has been in.”
He scrubbed at that sexy stubble on his face, the sound of his fingers caressing the tiny hairs was the most intoxicating sound, making my fingers want to tap in as replacements.
Stop staring into his eyes, Gina. He’s just trying to break you.
“Being a part of a biker club has always made pussy available whenever I needed it.”
“So, you admit you’re a manslut then?”
He laughed. “Call it what you will. I’ve done what I’ve had to in the past to suffice my urges.”
I don’t know why, but I felt the need to pry. I could never compare to whatever harem of women he had going on back at his club, but it made me wonder if any of them ever meant something to him?
“Were they all really just fuck buddy type relationships? Were you serious when you said you’ve never been in love before—ever?”
He took another seductive drink from his glass. “I told you only one woman had ever caught my eye, but she also caught the eye of everyone else as well. I don’t like to lose, and when I found myself competing for her attention, I got bored. It shouldn’t have mattered to me that she chose someone else to be with after everything she put us through, but it did.”
“And the woman… do you still have to see her after everything?”
He mockingly laughed, then gulped down the rest of his vodka before brushing the remnants from his mouth. “Every fucking damn day.”
“And that bothers you?”
