Page 83 of Dirty Dix

If she wants to leave, I’m not going to force her to stay, but once she’s gone, she’s gone. I don’t give second chances, and I sure as hell don’t give them to someone who thinks I’m a mistake.

“Goodbye, Madison,” I say, turning my back on her because I can’t bear to watch her turn her back onme.

“Dixon,” she replies with a sigh, but I don’t turn around. I simply look around my apartment, wondering when this turned to shit.

“For what it’s worth, it’s not you, it’s me.”

“Just leave,” I say, not interested in hearing her excuses. Not interested in fighting for someone who doesn’t want to be fought for.

“I’m sorry I hurt you.” And with those parting words, Madison closes the door on what could have been, but never will.

One month later

Bob.

Bob.

Breathe.

Bob.

Bob.

Gag.

I like getting my dick sucked as much as the next guy, but when it’s my fourth blowjob of the week, and I have no idea who each giver is, each suck and lick all tangle into one.

Looking at my smudged reflection in the bathroom mirror, I despise what I see.

Over a month ago, I allowed the only girl I’ve liked in a very long time to walk away from me because she hurt my damn feelings. What a soft cock. But that’s the problem. My not-so-soft cock got me into trouble in the first place, and now I’m back screwing endless women, not giving a damn who or when or why.

My lackluster release comes spilling out of my uninterested dick, and the random brunette at my feet takes it all without missing a drop. My orgasm is the same as the one I had this morning, pointless and hollow. But a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do, and I gotta do every woman in Manhattan because I can’t have the one I want.

Wiping her red-painted lips, the chick whose name I’ve already forgotten looks up at me from under her fake lashes. “My turn,” she purrs and stands, boosting herself up on the basin, spreading her legs out wide.

Her short skirt bunches up around her waist, and I can see she’s not wearing underwear. Her smooth entrance is slick and glossy, and where most men would be on their knees in a second, pleasuring this wannabe model, I simply rearrange myself and zip up my fly.

“Maybe next time, sweetheart.” I’m lying through my teeth.

“What?” she gasps, incredulous that I would leave her high and dry. “You’re not going to return the favor?”

When I merely shrug, bored by her melodramatics, she yells, “You pig!”

“Well, that’s what happens when you blow a stranger in a public bathroom,” I say, adjusting my cuff links.

“You said I was beautiful!” she shouts, her eyes filling with tears.

“You are.” I reach forward and pull her dress down, as her cooch is giving me the stink eye. “It’s just too bad beauty only gets you so far in this world.”

“Huh?” she replies, scrunching up her nose job.

“When you’re older, you’ll understand beauty is only skin deep. But all this—” I flick my hand at her materialistic getup “—gets you fucked, and not in a good way, by bastards like me.” I unlock the bathroom door, avoiding the glares of irritated females who are in desperate need to use the restroom.

Making my way back to our table, Finch and Hunter take one look at me and roll their eyes.

“Again?” Finch asks, raising his eyebrows.

I casually shrug, stealing Harper’s beer. “What can I say?”

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