Playboy Prince

If she had me. If I was her someone.

"I know we're not really together, but we're friends."

"I'm your boss."

"Not for long. And you're my friend too."

"Horrifying for you."

She notices my attempt at distraction. Ignores it. "You too. Being friends with me."

"No, gives me credibility with women, to have such a badass punk rock boss as my friend."

"Uh-uh."

"Yeah-huh."

"Won't they think I'm your ex-fiancée?"

"Guess it's complicated now."

She nods.

"But maybe for good. They'll think I'm still in love with you. Know better than to get attached."

"Or fall faster because you're emotionally unavailable."

"Why does that happen?"

"I don't know. Self-sabotage? Daddy issues?"

"I have plenty of those."

She laughs. "Me too."

"Do I need to keep an eye out? For emotionally unavailable guys who might win your heart?"

"Only if they're especially handsome."

"That's it? Handsome?"

"Funny."

"Handsome and funny?" I ask.

"And they don't take themselves too seriously."

"No software douche nozzles who want to invent a new cryptocurrency?"

"Absolutely not," she says.

"And we're not getting more specific with handsome?"

"Handsome is handsome." Her eyes pass over me slowly. Stop at the tattoo on my ribs. "I do like some tattoos."

"Oh?"

"Shows commitment."

"I have them."

"Even so."

"Be honest. It's the pain tolerance."

"You got me." She laughs. "I need a man with a high pain tolerance."

"I knew it," I say.

She laughs the way she always does—like she loves that I'm an idiot—but there's something else there. Something deeper.

That offer filling the air.

I want to fuck her.

I want more. Everything.

"Was there something else?" she asks. "About Bash?"

"Yeah. The way he loved… You know how my dick gets me into trouble?"

"Does it?"

I motion kinda. "When I was younger."

"You have a story?"

"That's classified shit."

"Since when?"

Since I started caring what she thinks about me. "There was a friend with a hot sister. That was probably the biggest mistake."

"What happened?"

"It was before I knew how to make things clear. I broke her heart. I didn't mean to, but…"

"She fell for the emotionally unavailable bad boy?"

"Are you stereotyping me?"

She nods.

"What does that make you?"

"The punk rock poor girl who thinks she's too good for rich assholes."

"Your parents have money."

"Not Pierce money."

"Enough."

"You wear a suit and have surprising depth."

"Isn't that the fantasy? The guy who's mean to you because he's so broken inside?"

She laughs. "Where did you learn that?"

"Opal."

"She knows better than to fall for that?"

"We watched Gilmore Girls together."

"You did not."

"The first few seasons."

She smiles. "You're fucking with me."

"Scout's honor."

"You weren't a scout."

"And you want to be the one to tie me up, huh?"

Her cheeks flush. "If it would get you out of my hair, maybe, but I've never had that fantasy."

"Never?"

"Have you?" she asks.

"Tried it?"

She nods.

"Of course."

"Really? With who?"

"A woman."

"And…"

"And what?"

"Did you like it?"

My brain tries to sound the shut the fuck up alarm, but it's running out of blood. "I liked how much she liked it."

"Only one woman?"

I nod.

"Why only one?"

"She got weird after."

"Weird how?"

"Started asking me to call her mommy."

"No, she didn't."

"I swear to god."

Briar laughs so hard she has to swim to the edge of the pool. "Oh my god, when she was naked or…"

"Except for her heels."

"Oh my god." She slaps the concrete. "Did you?"

"Of course."

Her laugh deepens. "And?"

"Instant deflate."

"No."

"Yeah."

"Were you embarrassed?"

"To lose a hard-on?"

"Yeah." Her eyes flit to my crotch, but she can't see anything with the water in the way. "Some guys get weird."

"It was already pretty fucking weird."

"But you didn't…"

"I was relieved I didn't get off on mom role play."

"That was it? No… disappointment?"

"Maybe."

"Liam Pierce gets insecure?"

"Not the way you mean."

"How do I mean?" she asks.

"It wasn't that I failed to rise to the occasion."

"No?"

"No. Not a problem unless I've had too many."

"How many?"

"Enough I'm slurring my words."

She nods, making a mental note.

"But it did hit my self-image. I thought I was down for anything. And here was this woman with a pretty mild kink, in the world of freaky, and I couldn't do it."

"No shame in having limits."

"I guess not."

"Has there been anything else? Anything you couldn't do?"

"Hardcore shit."

She raises a brow.

"One woman wanted me to wear a ski mask, take her at knife point."

"Did you try it?"

"I put on the ski mask."

"Really?"

"Yeah. But I wasn't feeling it."

She smiles. "You're pretty vanilla."

"Oh? You taking guys at knife point?"

"Is there any other way to have sex?"

My smile widens. "That's the real reason you dumped Johnny boy? Too vanilla."

"He was game for the knife. But when I wanted to get a gun…"

"Can you imagine?"

"I really can't." She laughs. "I've never even touched a gun."

"What about those?"

"Huh?"

I motion to her biceps. "Those are pretty serious guns."

"Well, of course I have these, yeah." She laughs. Looks to my arms. "And those too."

"You haven't touched them."

"I have."

"I'd remember."

She holds my gaze for a moment. Fights a blush. "I always imagined you as being game for anything."

"Me too."

"John was… well, we never broke out the ski masks, but he would shut down anything out of the ordinary."

"How out of the ordinary?"

"That's uh… that's not information I'm going to share at this time."