“And settling down is not an option. No woman can handle this much bullshit.” I pointed at myself.
“And yet, you’re here.” Law quirked a brow. “If you got it all figured out, why’re you asking for advice?”
“It’s hard to stay away from her.” I rubbed at my stubble-shadowed chin. “Her dad is the former president of the United States, and he’s about to help me reel in the big fish if he’s satisfied with my work. Which, my guess is he wouldn’t be, if his daughter is full of my cum.”
Not to mention all the other ways I wanted to play with her, now that I knew she was game.
“Business ain’t everything.” Lawtsked. “You deserve happiness.”
I smiled bitterly. “A good lay doesn’t equal happiness.”
“A good woman does.”
“She’s no good, and barely a woman.”
“Now you’re just acting like a bastard because you’re angry someone managed to make you feel not-miserable for the first time in your shit-ass life.”
Law’s eyebrows collapsed. He looked at me so intensely, for a moment, I got ready to punch him in case he tried to hug me.
“You know it’s not our fault, right? What happened with Moruzzi.”
“I know that,” I gritted out. I meant every word. I didn’t feel regret nor shame. Whatever happened—happened. It was out of my control.
“What happened with Kozlov in L.A…. that wasn’t your fault, either.”
See, here, I begged to differ.
I should have never told Law about that. It was a slip of the tongue. Something I’d confessed one very drunken night.
“Whose fault was it, then?” I downed my second beer.
“Sometimes bad things happen and it’s no one’s fault.”
“Well, part of this job is in L.A., and let’s just say the Russians didn’t forget about me.”
“Can you blame them? You made yourself a lot of enemies before you went solo with Tom. Including our time in Chicago. We were reckless. We made a name for ourselves. You made some mistakes. One of them with a very bad person. Question is—are you ready to change, Ransom? Are you ready to grow up?”
I knew what he wanted me to say. That yes, I was ready. And yes, the string of fast cars and fast women got old. But the truth was, I was still the same asshole. Miserable and incapable of having feelings for anyone. Except for maybe an unhealthy little fascination with a woman I worked for.
“This is useless. I’m not you. I’m not Tom. I’m not built for this.”
I stood up, dumping my two empty beers into a can on my way to the door. Then I stopped. Turned around, frowned, and returned to the trash, picking up both of the beer bottles.
“Where’s your recycling bin?” I asked.
“In the kitchen, under the sink.”
I carried the beer bottles into his house and put them in recycling on my way out.
On the drive back to Dallas, Tom called again. I couldn’t put him off any longer. Especially considering he’d tried me throughout the day yesterday, too, but I’d been busy conducting job interviews with a few people who’d flown in from Austin.
I ended that day sucking Princess Thorne’s pussy juices from my fingers while masturbating into the sheets like a fourteen-year-old.
“What’d you have for me?” I popped gum as I swiped the phone screen.
“I need some help,” Tom used his friendly tone, which meant I wasn’t going to like this.
“The app store is the blue square with the A on it.” I rubbed my eyes. When he wanted something, it was usually technology related.