Page 4 of The Playboy SEAL
“It’s just semantics. Don’t worry about the details. The fact is you’re a beautiful woman, and I’m glad we’re hanging out right now because I’m lonely, but I can’t have a relationship. Not now. Maybe never.”
I shake my hands and my head at the same time. “Carina didn’t tell you the most important fact about me. She’s too soft and nice. I don’t do relationships, Moose. Is that your real name, by the way?”
His brows knit together in confusion. “You’re a frog hog?”
I laugh. “No. No. You’re the first of your kind I’ve ever had the pleasure of drinking with. I just don’t want a relationship. I’m too busy and, frankly, they’re never worth the pain at the end. I want nights. That’s it. Your name?” I ask again. If I distract him from my whore tendencies, I might still have a shot.
“Ryan Perry,” he says, extending his hand, sliding hishalf finished beer to the edge of the bar. “If you’re saying what I think you are, then I’m finished drinking for the night.” His dimples show. “We share a mind with regard to pain and endings. That’s for sure.”
“Teala Smart,” I reply, letting his large hand engulf my own. “It’s nice to officially meet you, Ryan Perry.” Reaching across him, I grab his half finished beer and down it in five large gulps. “Looks like I’ll be burning some calories tonight after all.”
His eyes twinkle with mirth. “It’s Moose,” Ryan Perry replies.
I lick my lips. His gaze darts to the lower half of my face.
“Want to get out of here, Moose? My apartment is only a few blocks over.”
He said he was lonely. It’s a foregone conclusion I’m going to have my way with him.
He presses his lips into a firm line, but his eyes are full of excitement.
Oh, this is going to be so much fun. I’m practically delirious with desire. It’s been months since I’ve had an orgasm around a real man. I tilt my head back and finish my own drink and stand.
Moose slams cash down on the bar and grabs my hand. “I’ll be gone by morning,” he says, trying to warn me off.
“Fuck no, you won’t,” I reply, looking at my watch. “You’ll be gone by eleven thirty p.m. Let’s get going.”
Moose shakes his head but follows me out into the night and the few blocks to my historic apartment in the Gaslamp District of San Diego. We make small talk but never say anything of consequence to each other. Hesmiles a lot, and I think it’s because he knows I like to look at his dimples, but Carina was so right. This man is a good man. Nothing like my usual suspects, and for a tiny moment I wish I could be the girl that someone like him is hung up on.
He holds my hand, and I can almost envision I am that girl. Especially when we get back to my apartment and he fucks me so hard and with so much blissful intensity that I’ll feel him in between my legs for days on end.
He cradles my head. He kisses me senseless. He closes his eyes and calls me Megan when he pulls off the condom and comes on my rock-hard abs.
I’m not mad. I don’t even mention it to him after. I asked for this.
I always ask for this.
CHAPTER TWO
Macs
“You owe me fifty bucks,dude. That chick swiped right!” These guys should know better by now. I’m an expert in a lot of things. Hot chick retrieval and capture is one of those things. Pursing my lips to the side, I flip my iPhone to show them. They always demand proof. “That’s as good as mine.” I shake the phone back and forth in their faces. I’m getting a mental stiffy thinking about it. If I swipe right on a woman’s picture and she swipes right on mine, we make a match—a sex date is as good as promised.
I’ve never, not even once, had a relationship. I don’t spend the night with women. They don’t spend the night with me. It’s almost as if this swiping app was developed for my personal enjoyment. It works for me. It works for them. It’s a symbiotic relationship. The give and take is equal, and no one ever ends up hurt. Unless my cock gets a mind of its own and does a little punishing, but we can’t get upset with him, now, can we?
Tahoe scoffs, and Moose rolls his eyes. “How the fuckdo you do that? You don’t even look that good in your photos. You look like a tool. I commend your hobby, but I still don’t understand.”
A swipe-right match is the equivalent to Pavlov’s dogs for someone like me. It’s sex. Fucking. Plain and simple. This app isn’t for people seeking forevers or potential spouses. It’s brilliant.
“Chicks like tools,” I say. Well, the chicks I want like tools. For a moment I’m scared I am actually a tool. No, no. I can’t be a tool. I’m a motherfucking Navy SEAL. I play a part to get laid because playing a part is easier than being myself in a relationship. Truths. Questions. Honesty. Sharing a bathroom. No. Not when a swipe right gives me everything I desire.
“You know, Macs, I know someone you should probably meet. When we get back from Colorado. Let me be your swipe right,” Moose says. He won’t meet my eyes, but he’s smiling like he’s lost in a memory.
“What the hell does that mean? I’m not swinging that way this week, bro. Maybe when we’re deployed.” I clap him on the back.
Tahoe laughs.
“Fuck off. I know a woman you need to meet. Our date didn’t…ahhh…go as planned. I think you’re more her speed.” He looks at the gym exit.
