“Right,” she murmurs as if she isn’t quite sure how to act around me. “Nice to meet you, Sebastian.”
“Uh-huh.” I dismiss her with a nod and gesture to Remington’s wallet. “I already squared us up. Go enjoy the rest of your evening.”
He hesitates before he gets up and slaps me on the shoulder. “Thanks, man. And just think about what I said, okay?”
“Sure.”
He takes his leave with his girlfriend in tow, and I drain the rest of my drink, trying to wipe that entire conversation from my mind. As I’m seeking out a distraction, I notice the hot blonde at the bar sizing me up. She’s reed thin and stick straight with bleached hair and fake tits. Stella’s opposite in every way. And maybe for tonight, that’s exactly what the doctor ordered.
I gesture her over because I look exactly like the rest of these douchebags, and she’d expect nothing less from our kind. She toddles over on sky-high heels that probably cost more than her monthly rent and sits down across from me.
“Hey there.” She offers me a dazzling smiling with perfect veneers. “I was hoping you might call me over. I’ve had my eye on you all night.”
I’ll bet she did. It doesn’t take a genius to deduce that whoever she is, she’s in the market of give and take. It wouldn’t be the first time I ran across a woman like her, and it certainly won’t be the last. But I decide to humor myself and ask a few probing questions just to see if I’m right.
“What’s your name?”
“Alana,” she answers coyly. “And you?”
“Sebastian.”
“Sebastian.” She drags a polished finger across the edge of the table, trying to draw my attention toward her cleavage. “You look like a Sebastian.”
“Do I?” I ask dumbly.
“You have a certain…je ne sais quoiabout you,” she answers, and I have to admit, she knows how to play the game. She’s well acquainted with men and their fragile egos.
“May I ask, Sebastian, what you do for a living?”
What she’s really asking is how much I make. Am I worth her time? I pause for dramatic effect before I offer a vague answer, just to make her work a little harder.
“I have eggs in a few baskets. What about you, Alana?”
“I do some modeling,” she replies, and by modeling, she probably means webcam. She’s got the sweetheart act down, anyway. “But can I tell you a secret, Sebastian?”
“Only if you trust me to keep it.”
She leans forward with a predatory smile and slides her fingers over to stroke mine. “What I really like is sex. And excuse me for being blunt, but how would you like to take me to a hotel and fuck my brains out tonight? I can make you forget all of your problems.”
Her claim is bold. Not so much the sex, but the promise to make me forget my problems. Though I highly suspect that nothing will cleanse Stella from my mind at this point, I consider it anyway. Then I wonder dryly if there’s a money back guarantee.
I imagine myself shoving Alana face down onto a bed and squeezing her hips while I jam my dick inside her. But try as I might, Stella manages to pollute this fantasy for me too. Because it’s her face in my dream. Her body. Her sounds. But I already decided Stella is off-limits. And Alana is right here, willing and ready. She would be the appropriate choice, and the best part is, I won’t give a fuck when it’s done. I could fuck her into oblivion all night long with no qualms about it.
The only problem is… that isn’t what I want.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
STELLA
“AREyou sure you want to stay in tonight?” Sybil asks for the third time. “I know the last gathering didn’t exactly go as planned—”
“I’ll be fine,” I assure her. “I have chocolate and Netflix. I promise I’ll survive.”
She doesn’t look so sure, but I’m really not in the mood to be the third wheel. As much as she wants to convince me the small group will be different this time, I have no desire to join the festivities. Maybe I’m just ancient for my time, or maybe it’s everything that’s been happening in my life, but those things don’t hold the same appeal for me as they used to.
“Go have fun with your boyfriend.” I shoo her toward the door. “Just be safe.”
“I will,” she promises. “You too, okay?”