“Yeah. Oh, fuck,” he grunted out, planting himself deep inside of me with one last hard thrust before he came.

He rolled off of me and collapsed on the mattress a moment later. I couldn’t believe how empty I felt as he slipped out of me. But I would never let him know that.

“Thanks,” I said, my head still spinning.

What happened now? I was sure he was ready to run. I didn’t want him to be the one to cut it off so quickly. I wouldn’t be that girl, the one that pinned over someone just because they had sex. Sure, it was mind-blowing amazing sex, for me at least. But I refused to let him think that he had gotten to me, even if he had. I knew what I was. After all, he was the sexy biker that could have any woman he wanted and I was sure he did all the time. I was just a number. One that he might laugh about later.

“You can go now,” I said coldly because that was how I suddenly felt. Cold. Alone. Lost, yet again.

His head turned and he looked at me, but I didn’t move my eyes to his. I couldn’t. I was doing my best to hold myself together right now. I never wanted him to see me vulnerable. And I had to be honest, I was on the verge of tears though I couldn’t even begin to explain why.

Wordlessly, he got up and rid himself of the condom, tossing it in the trash with such disregard. Much like how I imagined he would see this. Once he left, I knew I would more than likely be long forgotten. I couldn’t even be mad because I knew what I was getting myself into. I knew what I was to him. Nothing. Just a person to help get his rocks off. So all these feelings I was having were on me.

He dressed, the silence lingered and I wanted to curl up and fade away. Then he left, the way he came, without so much as a goodbye.