Christian lifted his shades over his head and turned to face me, his black eyes unnerving. “I make no pretenses. I don’t play games or mislead anyone about what I want.”
I lowered my eyes to his mouth, noticing how he kept his beard groomed at a short length but still let whiskers grow down his neck. “And what do you want?”
His tongue swept across his bottom lip, and he leaned back, putting his shades back on. “You’re going to live a long time. And unless you plan on joining a nunnery, you should realize that casual sex will save you from a lifetime of misery. Love is a fecking lie, and the sooner you let go of all those romantic notions, the better off you’ll be. There’s no shame in satisfying your needs with no strings attached.”
“Sorry, but I can’t take advice from a neophiliac. No one is saying you have to have a relationship with the women you sleep with, but at least get to know them a little.”
“For what reason?”
Christian was getting worked up, and when his voice rose an octave, I couldn’t help myself. “It kind of suggests a lack of control.”
He stroked his short beard. “I’m a sexual man. I would wager that the root of your concern is that you are not.”
“You’re right, Christian. I’m not a sexual man. I bet you couldn’t go one week without sex.”
“It’s a good thing we’re not going to a casino,” he murmured. “I’ve never seen a woman with such an addiction to silly bets.”
I leaned back. “You’re only saying that because you know you’d lose.”
Christian’s amorous behavior was no secret. He loved flirting, and at least one night a week, he came home smelling of sex and like he’d been doused with perfume. I wasn’t sure if he’d always been that way or if he just had too much free time on his hands. What else was a man going to do with his time if not watch television? Maybe I just wanted to make a point that some people created addictions in their life to hide what was wrong. My father once said that he didn’t think alcohol was a sin. It had never cost him his job, he felt good when he was drinking, and it made some of the painful shit he had to deal with sufferable. The only sin was loving the addiction more than himself.
Maybe seeing Christian as someone who masked his pain was easier than acknowledging he was heartless and didn’t respect women.
“I’ll take your silly bet if it makes you happy. One week of abstinence,” he promised. “And what are we betting for?”
That was a good question.
“I already know what I want,” he said. “If I win, then you’re not allowed to bring up my sexual endeavors—past, present, or future—ever again. Even if I’m engaging in oral sex on the dining room table, which is what I’d prefer dining on instead of Viktor’s goulash.”
He’s right,I thought to myself.You’re getting a little too obsessed with his sex life.
I flagged down a flight attendant walking by. “Excuse me, do you have any goulash?”
She furrowed her brow and flicked her eyes between Christian and me. Every strand of her flaxen hair was pulled into a tight bun.
Christian leaned over me. “Don’t mind her, lass. She’s a bit touched in the head after falling off her unicorn.”
Without a word, she hurried away to assist others.
I crossed one leg over my knee and lowered my voice. “You know, I never realized how much humans lack a sense of humor until I crossed over. They’re always so serious. You say one wrong word, and you get thrown off the plane.”
“Imagine if this were a Breed airline,” he mused. “This place would be a fecking zoo.”
I laughed at the idea. “Everyone would revolt against first class.”
“Sensor pops for everyone.”
“Flight attendants would be throwing passengers off the plane. Literally.”
“Chitahs would be flipping their switches over a woman serving them.”
“Wolves and bears, crapping in the aisle.”
We laughed quietly and then listened to people chattering around us.
I looked left and noticed Christian’s head was reclined and his eyes were closed behind his dark shades. I wondered what he’d look like without all the facial hair. Probably strikingly handsome, so it was a good thing he embraced his follicles. Despite being boorish, Christian had a crooked smile that had the power to make panties disintegrate. His features were striking, from his dark eyes to his prominent cheekbones. Maybe that was why he covered his face with whiskers and unkempt hair. Perhaps his roguish looks drew too much attention to a man who would rather vanish into a crowd.
“It’s hard to look away, isn’t it?” he asked, eyes still closed.
