At the end of the day, my existence was about survival, and I was too fragile to be bound to any woman, even if I ached for her. My soul would have sunk into the depths and never resurfaced.
I didn’t know exactly what kept me connected to Selene, what made me miss her, want her, or need to protect her.
I would just have to keep cheating at this crazy game of ours, telling a half-truth that was more comfortable for the both of us: I did care about her…at least a little bit.
And that was how it was always going to be.
Firmly convinced, I picked up the coffee pot and poured some into a mug.
I leaned back against the counter and sipped it. The warm liquid slid down my throat and straight into my hollow stomach. I hadn’t eaten dinner the night before, compensating with a couple packages of pistachios. I couldn’t go on like that.
I was still working out just as much, but I was eating very little. I knew that if I didn’t start eating right, I wouldn’t have the energy I needed to face my days.
I was focused on the aesthetic element, though.
I looked down at my torso, which had leaned down enough to show the clear lines of my muscles. My pubic area was bracketed by two lateral lines only partially concealed by the low waist of the sweatpants I wore, ties dangling over the bulge between my legs.
I had long ago learned how to use my looks as yet another tool of seduction, just the way Kim taught me. The strapping, powerful physique was a crucial part of my strategy. I sighed miserably before looking up at the sound of light footfalls coming into the kitchen.
Still holding my mug in midair, I looked at Selene, who was shambling toward me with clumsy, sleepy motions.
She really was cute.
She looked exactly like a disgruntled kid who’d been woken up too early, her long hair tumbling wildly to the base of her spine and her disheveled bangs covering her scar.
“Good morning,” she muttered, holding back a yawn. Then, all at once, she froze like it had just then occurred to her that she’d spent the night with me. She looked me up and down with her big ocean eyes. She lingered a bit on my bare chest and licked her lower lip before dragging her eyes back up to my face.
“Good morning to you,” I answered after a beat, watching as she sat down on a stool at the kitchen island. Selene looked thoughtful, staringoff into space, and the idea that she was actually a million miles away in her head irked me. “What are you thinking about?” I asked her abruptly, making her jump.
For a second, I was afraid that she regretted coming to see me or even that she thought I’d finally gone too far with the previous night’s fuck. I had been wild and uncontrolled, but I didn’t want her condemning me for it—or herself.
Then Babygirl turned her face my way, and once again, gave me a look so unsettlingly worshipful that it almost made me embarrassed. I read an emotion in her eyes that I didn’t like at all, something I refused to name.
I made a scornful face, and she got off her stool to sashay over to me. I stared at her in confusion.
I never allowed a woman this kind of intimacy: sharing a bed with her all night, letting her invade my space, seeing her first thing in the morning, and even sharing breakfast with her like some happy couple.
It just didn’t belong in my daily life.
Lost in my own thoughts, I failed to notice that Selene had reached me until I saw her looking me up and down like a deadly tigress. She was particularly focused on my waist, and I frowned as I tried to figure out what the hell had caught her attention there. I got it when she delicately brushed her fingers along the raised, reddish scratches that had been left there by her fingernails.
“Are those from me?” she asked, staring at them fixedly.
Was she for real?
She was the only other person there; the answer seemed fairly obvious, so I didn’t say anything.
“Meaning, whoever touches you next is going to see them and know that you are mine,” she continued, staring piercingly into my eyes.
“Yours?” I repeated, like she was speaking another language.
“Yes…you told me you were last night. While we were…” She trailed off, embarrassed.
“Well, I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly then, was I?” I said defensively, thinking back to being naked and on top of her, eager to get inside her. I might have said anything to her then; my brain was not plugged in.
Babygirl stopped touching my waist, looking briefly hurt before regrouping and turning determined, like she didn’t want to show any vulnerability in front of me.
“Have you ever said that to anyone else?” she asked probingly.
