“Because that’s not what we are. We aren’t boyfriend and girlfriend. We aren’t dating. We aren’t doing anything with emotions. We are just fucking. The rougher, the better. So, stop being so nice to me.”
I laugh. I can’t help it. “I can’t be nice to you? Seriously? I get that you want the bad boy in the bedroom, but what I’ve done so far isn’t even that nice. I got you a drink and carried your bag. So what? Next time we need a drink, you can go get it if it will make you feel better.”
“It will.”
“Fine.” I slurp down the rest of my drink. “Then, get me a refill.”
She smirks and storms off toward the bar to get us new drinks while I try to figure out what the hell just happened. She’s an independent firecracker. I know that. I just didn’t realize that doing anything for her would turn into such a fight. There is something I’m missing. I know that. I just don’t know what it is or if it matters.
I have six days left with her. I just have to let more of my asshole nature out so that she doesn’t feel like I want something after the six days are up. I don’t. And not trying is easy. I’ll just pretend like she doesn’t exist, except when I want sex from her.
“Here,” she says, roughly handing me my drink.
I take the drink from her without saying thank you, without a grin, without anything.
She carefully watches me as she takes a seat next to me. “You’re not living up to your end of the deal.”
I exhale deeply, closing my eyes and leaning back. “How am I not living up to the deal?”
“You’re supposed to be giving me hot, I can’t move for a week sex. Not lying around, giving me compliments, and getting me drinks.”
I don’t open my eyes. “Seven minutes.”
“What?”
“I’m giving you I can’t move for a week sex starting in seven minutes.”
“Why seven minutes?”
“If you had listened to me instead of your favorite to win yesterday, then maybe you would know the answer to that.”
She sighs while I grin on the inside. She’s flustered and confused. She says that she wants me to be in control, to be an ass, but when I do it for even a second, she hates it.
I hear her shift in her seat, not able to get comfortable while she waits for what’s going to happen in seven minutes. I listen to her breathing get faster and faster. She sighs every few seconds, annoyed that she gave up control to me and this is how I use it. To torture her. She slurps from her drink, trying to calm her mind. But it won’t work either. She wants me too badly.
I, on the other hand, have never been more relaxed.
“It’s been seven minutes,” she says, her face right over mine as she waits for me to open my eyes.
“Six minutes. It’s been six minutes.”
“How do you know that? Your eyes have been closed the entire time.”
“I know because you are far too restless to wait the entire seven minutes, so that means that only six minutes must have passed.”
I open my eyes, and she bites her lip as trying to keep it from curling up in a smile.
“What happened to you giving me complete control?”
She narrows her eyes as she tucks her hair behind her ear while she still hovers over me. “I’ve realized that I’m not very good at it.”
“No, you’re not. But you’re going to be.”
I tackle her back onto her lounge chair, and she gasps. I pin her body beneath me. With my eyes, I make my intentions clear of exactly what I want to do with her.
“No, we can’t,” she says, looking around at the other people on the beach.
“We are.”