Read with BonusRead with Bonus

3- Awfully Good

XAVER

The woman’s English is rudimentary at best, but she can speak dick like it’s her native language.

Earlier tonight, or rather yesterday, my business associates had dragged me to a club to celebrate our deal. And there I found Blondie—with her nice body and an even nicer face.

I went up an introduced myself in my high school German.

She laughed. Her friends did too.

She told me her name. I promptly forgot. Fucking as much as I do, names and faces get lost in translation.

One of her friends had looked me up on Google. By the oohs and aahs and awestruck looks, I assumed they’d found my name on the list of the top five richest bastards under thirty. I usually hit the chart at number two or number three. It all depends on how the social media titans did in the stock market that day.

Blondie expressed her interest before she’d found out my status, but after her friends clued her in, she moved things to the next level.

When we’d finished our small talk and drinks, she led me to the gender-free bathroom. There in a pristine stall painted a soothing lilac, she sucked me dry.

Then, she begged for more.

As soon as we arrived at her apartment located behind the former Berlin Wall, I gave her what she wanted. Over and over and once more again.

The last time on her hardwood floor where she fell in a heap after screaming out her orgasm.

Now that she’s passed out, it’s time for me to leave.

I throw my shirt over my head and belt my pants, then I scoop up Blondie and lay her gently on her now-cool sheets. Brushing the hair from her face, my hand comes away damp.

I must’ve sweated her up quite a bit.

At my touch, she wakes enough to give me a satisfied smile before rolling over with a soft sigh.

She won’t see it, but I return her smile and flip the switch to turn off her bedside lamp.

The moonlight filtering through the balcony in her bedroom aids me in moving around. I tuck her in with the dark-red covers that were partially knocked off during round one, and then fell all the way off during round two. Round three had her on all fours with me giving it to her hard from behind, my hips rocketing into hers. She’s lucky we ended up on the floor for the last round.

Furniture tends to move and break when I fuck.

The moon hides behind a cloud and my eyes adjust to the lack of light without difficulty. I search for just a moment before finding my shoes near the door. I take them to the far corner of her bed, and, so as not to disturb her, I carefully sit and begin to tie up my laces.

I don’t feel bad about not staying. Long ago I found that staying the night is for lazy fools. It only leads to promises I refuse to utter. What is the point in exchanging meaningless sentiments when those words won’t hold true in the light of day?

I’m all about telling the truth—in business and in bed. I tell a woman from the get-go she shouldn’t count on anything more, and if she can’t deal, there are others that can and do.

With a happy grunt, I finish, hop up and grab my wallet form her nightstand. Without a backward glance, I head for the door, closing it softly behind me.

The elevator arrives quickly. Stepping in, I depress the button for the basement. All goes well—until I attempt to smooth my hair. The morose look on my face bounces back from the shiny brass surface, killing the satisfaction from my gratification. The guilt that washes over me after good, but meaningless sex, invades me as it always does after these encounters. The sensations I experience are great during, but the aftermath is always a bitch.

It wasn’t always like that.

Once, I had more.

Once, I had tasted love.

All that disappeared when my fiancée left.

This last year, when I could bear to start again, intimacy has mainly consisted of nameless faces and leaving in the middle of the night.

And if it gets me through, then that’s all right.

Smiling at the rhyme of little reason, I force the blues into the deepest layers of my mind. I’m never one to be disappointed in myself for long, and when the next urge hits, I’ll be back out there, hooking up with someone new.

At least until I get back to New York. Mainly because Gia is there.

Beautiful Gia.

Gia is a former model with a size two body and long blonde hair. Her amazing mouth (what she does with her tongue is a crime in most countries) and legs-for-days have kept me coming back.

Unfortunately, she’s become clingy, always asking about our next date or begging me to escort her here and there. I told her from the start we weren’t a couple and never would be. She was fine with that in the beginning, and we happily carried on seeing other people.

No jealousy. No fights. No drama.

I thought everything was copacetic until a few months ago when she began to journey down the I want you as my boyfriend road, which for me, is a one-way ticket to nowhere.

If she starts that shit when I get back, I’m going to end it.

Forcing my lips into a frown, I try and dredge up a modicum of sadness. Surely a year spent in someone’s company should count for something, right? Shouldn’t I feel some kind of way at the thought of losing her?

I don’t. I can’t.

Not a pang. Not a tickle. Not a worry.

I’ve always been a cold and detached bastard, even before my fiancée left. And to tell the truth, I’m petrified that I’ll remain this way.

My ears catch the roar of a vehicle as I step from the elevator. My driver slash go-to-guy, Alfonso, meets me with the car. As an ex-Navy Seal, military precision is ingrained into everything he does. His attention to detail and efficiency is why he’s been with me since I was sixteen.

I jump into the front seat, sinking down into the soft leather with a sigh.

A man of few words, Alfonso simply asks, "To the hotel?" He listens for my reply as he expertly makes a tight arc to point the car toward the exit.

"Yes. I'm tired as fuck,” I deadpan.

I look at Alfonso for his reaction. His lips twitch, but he doesn’t respond. He rarely does. Grinning, I close my eyes. I let the smoothness of the drive, and Alfonso's non-existent conversation, lull me to sleep.

Previous Chapter
Next Chapter