driver’s license. I’m perfectly clear on your birth date, and it’s only a number.” His arms are folded across his chest as his eyes bore into me.
“I’m sorry. No, you’re just too young. Twelve years is a major difference. I mean, why me? I’m sure you have women lying in wait.” I question, looking up at him. My entire body is taut, wanting to do nothing more than to lean into him and inhale his scent. He smirks.
“For some reason, you’re not convincing me, sweetheart. I think you protest too much. I have no doubt that if I was to pull your zipper down right now, and slip a finger into that sweet pussy, you’d be dripping wet.” He lowers his eyes and licks his lips.
I feel faint, only because the bastard is telling the truth. If I spend time around him, I’ll need to be wearing Poise pads to prevent leakage. He so annoys me.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of something shiny green sticking out of his jean pocket. Dammit! It’s my La Perla thong. The jerk! He has some nerve to walk around in public with my underwear. This man irritates me to no end. I push him aside, grabbing my panties as a smile purses his lips.
“You are . . . incorrigible . . . and stop calling me sweetheart!” I say as I shove my La Perla panties into my purse and walk away.
Chapter Four
L atch
Keenan stalks up to me , looking almost as pissed as Haven did when she left.
“That went well, I see, ” Keenan snaps as he grabs a towel.
I shove my hands into my pockets. Honestly, I’m perplexed. Keenan sits down in one of the director’s chairs.
“You do understand that she is not your typical type of woman?” Keenan speaks calmly.
I nod in agreement.
“She’s beautiful, but you do realize she’s more mature, right?”
“Obviously . . . her driver’s license was pretty educational.” I grin, running my hands through my hair.
“Latch, you know I love you, mate, but this girl’s different. Not only is she a woman, but there’s something in her eyes. Don’t fuck with her, just leave it alone. She’s not the type you’re used to; you can’t do to her what you do with the others. Just forget her and go on to the next one.” Keenan gets off the chair and tosses the towel at me.
My problem is that I don’t want to leave her alone. Women throw themselves at me. I have a different one every night. Since the minute I first got laid when I was a teenager, it’s been a non-stop fuck fest. I can’t help it. I love women, and I’m blessed because they love me. Not actual love as in the emotion, but they love the fucking, the fame and the money. Relationships don’t work for me. I’ve never actually had one, because I know for sure that being faithful and fucking just one woman for the rest of my life isn’t for me. Kill me now, because that’s never going to happen. What would Google think? I pride myself on holding the title of “womanizing manwhore.” Hell, we all have to excel at something. I’m lucky—I excel in everything I do, especially fucking.
I close my eyes and go back in time to the night I saw her.
Keenan had planned to go with me to Castman’s party, but he bailed last minute because of some runway show in Paris. I, of course, took all the credit for setting his career on fire. Up until five years ago, the only gigs Keenan got were book covers and the occasional print ad. Once I released my video game, Blood Vestige , everyone wanted “Jake Coy,” a character I had created in Keenan’s image. Ever since then, he’s been going non-stop.
I was at the party by myself. I enjoyed being surrounded by plenty of women, booze and the occasional party favors. I noticed a woman in green out of the corner of my eye, and she was definitely checking me out. She’s beautiful, but not in the Hollywood way—nothing about her looks was fake. She seemed out of place, though, and a little bit sad. Her clothes were sensible, almost secretarial. My dick actually twitched because
“I’m sorry. No, you’re just too young. Twelve years is a major difference. I mean, why me? I’m sure you have women lying in wait.” I question, looking up at him. My entire body is taut, wanting to do nothing more than to lean into him and inhale his scent. He smirks.
“For some reason, you’re not convincing me, sweetheart. I think you protest too much. I have no doubt that if I was to pull your zipper down right now, and slip a finger into that sweet pussy, you’d be dripping wet.” He lowers his eyes and licks his lips.
I feel faint, only because the bastard is telling the truth. If I spend time around him, I’ll need to be wearing Poise pads to prevent leakage. He so annoys me.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of something shiny green sticking out of his jean pocket. Dammit! It’s my La Perla thong. The jerk! He has some nerve to walk around in public with my underwear. This man irritates me to no end. I push him aside, grabbing my panties as a smile purses his lips.
“You are . . . incorrigible . . . and stop calling me sweetheart!” I say as I shove my La Perla panties into my purse and walk away.
Chapter Four
L atch
Keenan stalks up to me , looking almost as pissed as Haven did when she left.
“That went well, I see, ” Keenan snaps as he grabs a towel.
I shove my hands into my pockets. Honestly, I’m perplexed. Keenan sits down in one of the director’s chairs.
“You do understand that she is not your typical type of woman?” Keenan speaks calmly.
I nod in agreement.
“She’s beautiful, but you do realize she’s more mature, right?”
“Obviously . . . her driver’s license was pretty educational.” I grin, running my hands through my hair.
“Latch, you know I love you, mate, but this girl’s different. Not only is she a woman, but there’s something in her eyes. Don’t fuck with her, just leave it alone. She’s not the type you’re used to; you can’t do to her what you do with the others. Just forget her and go on to the next one.” Keenan gets off the chair and tosses the towel at me.
My problem is that I don’t want to leave her alone. Women throw themselves at me. I have a different one every night. Since the minute I first got laid when I was a teenager, it’s been a non-stop fuck fest. I can’t help it. I love women, and I’m blessed because they love me. Not actual love as in the emotion, but they love the fucking, the fame and the money. Relationships don’t work for me. I’ve never actually had one, because I know for sure that being faithful and fucking just one woman for the rest of my life isn’t for me. Kill me now, because that’s never going to happen. What would Google think? I pride myself on holding the title of “womanizing manwhore.” Hell, we all have to excel at something. I’m lucky—I excel in everything I do, especially fucking.
I close my eyes and go back in time to the night I saw her.
Keenan had planned to go with me to Castman’s party, but he bailed last minute because of some runway show in Paris. I, of course, took all the credit for setting his career on fire. Up until five years ago, the only gigs Keenan got were book covers and the occasional print ad. Once I released my video game, Blood Vestige , everyone wanted “Jake Coy,” a character I had created in Keenan’s image. Ever since then, he’s been going non-stop.
I was at the party by myself. I enjoyed being surrounded by plenty of women, booze and the occasional party favors. I noticed a woman in green out of the corner of my eye, and she was definitely checking me out. She’s beautiful, but not in the Hollywood way—nothing about her looks was fake. She seemed out of place, though, and a little bit sad. Her clothes were sensible, almost secretarial. My dick actually twitched because
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