Page 117 of For One Night

I drop into a chair, pour three fingers, and down it. I chase it with another three and start to feel a little better. I lay back, closing my eyes, and I see her face. I want her to choose me; is there anything wrong with that?

“I’m also an impatient asshole.” I down another shot, finally feeling relaxed. I want to tell her everything, all the things she deserves to hear from someone who loves her.

“What the fuck?” I yell as I hurl the glass over my deck and into the sand.

“Great aim, you hit the dune.” I close my eyes at the sound of her voice.

“How did you get here so fast; did he bring you to make you quit or something?”

She kicks her shoes off, pulls her dress up her legs, and slides into the seat beside me. “Aren’t you a bundle of asshole today?”

“Why were you with him?” I growl.

She holds a glass out for me to pour her a drink, and I do. “Are you asking or demanding to know?”

“I may be an asshole, but I know better than to demand,” I huff, pouting.

She turns her glass up, letting the liquid wet her mouth. “Sometimes it’s best to fake being a nice person.”

“How often do you fake things, because you were pretty convincing.”

She smirks. “All the time.”

“Are you being sarcastic?”

She snickers. “I’ve never been able to fake an orgasm, let alone a sarcasm in life, so yes, I’m being sarcastic.”

“He’s a sadistic fucker.” I scowl.

“Agreed.” She swings her legs around, grinning wickedly. “Are you going to continue to beat your chest or take me to bed?”

I spin, facing her. My gaze drifts as I rake my eyes up her thighs. “Tell me what you want.”

“Finish the job you started in Las Vegas. I want to be yours.”