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"Yeah, you bank on it. Sure, the cocky swagger and the confidence you wear like a second skin will get you a certain amount of what you want, but you and everyone else knows it's the good genes, the strong jaw, the pretty eyes, the nice body, that's all what closes the deal. And don't try to insult me by saying I am somehow misunderstanding how it works. Call it objectification if you want, but it is what it is. You being superior in the looks department is what gets the women tripping over themselves to get to take you home, not you. You as a person, they don't care about. It's the you-package they want. You bank on that because you get to take those women home and have a little fun with them. Nothing wrong with that. But don't go deluding yourself into thinking it is anything more than that."
Well shit.
If that wasn't a bonafide kick to the nuts, I didn't know what was. Actually, the words had enough impact to make me push back against the door and straighten, put some space between us, my arms falling numbly by my sides.
It was one thing to enjoy good times with women, like Scotti said; it was a complete other to be told that no one gave a shit about me beyond that. It wasn't even a thought I had ever entertained before. I had always just accepted that I didn't want anything beyond a fling. I never stopped to consider if the women would even want more if I offered it. And, quite frankly, it was more than a little unsettling to think that all they wanted from me was a good solid fucking.
Damn.
I guess that was how a lot of women felt.
And I guess I was a dick for not seeing it that way before.
"Yeah, that's a bitter pill to swallow, isn't it?" she asked, giving me a sympathetic look, followed by a shrug. "I choked that one down back in eighth grade, but I guess guys require a steeper learning curve. Don't worry your pretty little head about it," she said, tapping my temple as she charged forward, powering into my shoulder like I thought she would when I first walked up.
It was right about then that I realized armed robbery and lying to police weren't her only talents.
No, Scotti was a goddamn mental ninja. She just got in there with a sword all silent and sneaky and cut you to shreds inside. Just so she could make a clean getaway.
I'd bet my fucking left nut that if I let her walk away, that if I came back, both she and her brothers would be long gone without so much as a trace.
And, for once, that was a bet I was sure I would win.
So while my pride was maybe bruised irreparably from her comment, I whirled around and jumped down the remaining stairs, rushing to cut her off, making her stop short on a quiet yelp, likely thinking she was getting off scot-free, surprised that I could pull it together fast enough to stop her.
But see, she forgot one thing. She wasn't the only one who grew up with a bunch of brothers. I had been dealing with the worst forms of mental, emotional, and physical torment since I was old enough to understand words. Because, let's face it, no one could hurt you as badly as family could since no one knew you as much as family did. I was TKO to on my feet in seconds thanks to that background.
She didn't know who she was up against.
"So what you're saying here is, you want to fuck me, but you don't want to admit that so you're deflecting by trying to hurt my ego."
"Tenacity is a nice trait in business. Otherwise, it's obnoxious."
She cut to the side, brushing past me.
But I wasn't done.
Because that was twice I asked and twice that she evaded.
I wanted her to admit it.
It was practically a compulsion at that point.
I rushed up, again cutting her off as she was just about to round the side of the building. "You can't deny it, so you are evading. Nice tactic if you can pull it off. But while you might just peg me as a pretty face, sweetheart, I'm actually not dense either. You want me. Admit it."
"Fine," she snapped, arms raising suddenly, catching me off-guard enough for her to be able to plant them dead-center to my chest and shove me hard enough backward that my back slammed into the unyielding side of the shack. Before I could even register that surprise, or the surge of desire it would bring with it, her body crushed into mine, all straight lines and subtle hint of soft curves. Her hands framed my face almost aggressively a split second before she went up on her tiptoes and seared her lips into mine.
