Page 28 of Filthy and the Beast

Clearly, he feels bad about it, so I decide to share. “I dropped out of high school. You know that doesn’t mean shit about a person. And you’re obviously smart.”

He smiles. “Thank you. And yeah, I know not to beat myself up. Education doesn’t define us. But it is a significant obstacle if I want a career as a sex therapist.” He studies me, eating the cupcake. “Would you ever see a sex therapist?”

My pulse jumps. I pour myself another shot of whiskey. “No.”

“Do you like sex?”

I frown. “Yes.”

As I take my shot, Damian purses his lips, trying to hide a smile. “Would you consider yourself sexually satisfied?” He squints, teasing me again. “You don’t have that after-sex glow this evening, so you probably weren’t with a date.” He winks. “Maybe I don’t need to be quite so jealous.”

I consider a third shot.

He’s flirting with me. Or maybe he’s simply a friendly guy. Talks like this to everyone.

Thought my old ass was in my fifties.

My chest hurts.

Damian sighs. “Well, you’re obviously sexually constipated, considering you can’t talk about it.”

“I am not.”

This conversation is getting ridiculous. And Damian keeps smiling at me and pursing his lips like I’m funny or something.

Damian. Sex. Damian. Sex.

“What?” I grunt.

“Nothing. You’re just acting cute.”

I’m not cute. I’m a fucking monster who shows no mercy. I’m a brutal cage-fighter.

“So you like sex,” Damian says, “but you’re scared to talk about it, and you’re not really having it. See? You’d be a perfect client. I’d have no shortage of business. Most people are like you.”

Somewhere in there, my pride got pretty dinged up. With the whiskey washing to my brain, I stand. “I don’t need help having sex. I can fuck all night if I want to.”

Damian’s eyebrows pop up. “Is that so? Duly noted.”

I snort air out my nose. “You know what I mean.”

He takes a playful bite of his cupcake. “That you’re a fantastic lay? I’m sure all jocks think that, but good sex is not about brute strength. And jackhammering until sunrise has nothing to do with what I asked you. The only important question, when it comes down to our sex lives: are you satisfied or not?”

There’s frosting on his lips.

He slowly licks it off, and my dick throbs.

Fuck.

I take a step back, trying to regain my bearings. “No one is ever satisfied. That’s the fucking problem.”

Damian frowns. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means no one else can give you what you want. You’ve got to do that for yourself. And if you’re out searching for satisfaction from other people, you’re going to end up disappointed.”

It’s bleak, but it’s true. Life has taught me that hard lesson many times.

Damian, however, crosses his arms over his chest. “False. We need other people. That’s your real problem. If you’re going to get what you want, you can’t do it alone.”

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