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“Jesus Christ, not your type at all. I vote for a blonde. I’ll take a redhead. I’m in the mood for a redhead.”
“If it’s hot and female, you’re always in the mood.”
“True. There’s a lot of me to go around. I’m extremely generous.”
“I’m sure. But this is business. This girl’s the one thing keeping me from my Bushwick development.”
He doesn’t say anything, just eyes me thoughtfully. “No one gets in your way.”
“She won’t budge. She’s got morals and beliefs.”
“Sounds horrendous,” he says, deadpan.
“Asshole.”
“Hey, I’m your favorite brother.”
“No, you’re not. That would be Hud and King.”
He clutches his chest. “You wound me.”
“See, they’re into making money.” I stop. “Make that Kingston. Hud’s gone soft.”
“Hey, I love making money. Almost as much as I love hitting great pussy.”
I laugh and shake my head. The rain’s stopped, but clouds still hang low outside in the sky. I get up and grab my light fall coat and sweep an arm toward the door. My staff’s already left for the day, so it’s just us and the security in the lobby. I glance at the wrap around window. “You think it’s going to rain? I no longer have an umbrella.”
And for some reason, I find myself smiling.
After all, today’s been a good day. A good beginning.
For me.
For Zoey Smith?
Not so much.
Zoey’s wearing a dress the next morning. It’s a pretty one, and it compliments her eyes, which are a dark blue, almost violet.
She’s not my type. Way too fucking sweet and smiling and little. I like tall and curves and less talking. I like a mouth that can do things to my body, and a woman who knows when to get the fuck out. Which is after sex.
I’m not Ryder. I’m not a wham bam kinda guy. I don’t need a different woman every time to spice up my life. But women serve a need. A certain kind of woman. Sometimes I’ll see them for a while because the sex is that good, but they always get clingy, or start picturing themselves with a Mrs. before their first name, followed by a Sinclair. Even the ones with money.
My favorite women I date and sleep with are the cutthroat variety. The ones who are playing hardball, who have needs like mine and don’t want anything else.
But those relationships tend to last a few months at the most because we always have different schedules that prove harder to coordinate than need. And for both me and for them, there’s always someone more available around the corner.
No complications is what I’m on about here.
Zoey Smith looks like she was built out of complications.
If she were my type.
Which she isn’t.
She’s pretty enough, and her mouth is soft and sweet and would look good wrapped about my cock. I don’t want her, but I’ll admit I’m enough like Ryder to sum up the fuckability of a female without thinking about it.
Actually, I don’t know why I’m thinking about it.
