The old Sean would throw in something suave right about now. That perfect one liner that would extend an invitation to my bed.
The old me would make her scream my name so loud that the rest of the occupants in the hotel would complain. The old me would slam this broad into a wall and enjoy every tantalizing second of it.
The old Sean was a badass.
The new Sean…
I’m not so sure what he is.
The elevator stops again and the woman flashes me another seductive look over her shoulder, willing me to talk to her as she makes her exit. But I say nothing. I simply nod and the doors close.
When the elevator moves again Murph nudges my ribs with his bulky elbow, still chuckling. “I know what it is.” He leans back into his corner and shakes his head. “I never thought I’d see this day.”
“Spit it out man,” I bark.
“It’s a fucking female isn’t it?” Murph howls with laughter. “I can’t fucking believe it. Sean Reilly is a pussy whipped bitch.”
I slap his shoulder with a scowl. “Hey, fuck you man.” I fold my arms across my chest and lean back against the elevator wall. “I am not a pussy whipped bitch.”
That’s the truth too. I am not pussy whipped. I’m worse. I’ve already convinced myself that Hadlee has the Holy Grail of pussy’s. Why is that worse? Because Murph and I both know, in order to be pussy whipped you actually have to touch the pussy.
And I haven’t even kissed Hadlee yet.
I don’t kiss a lot of the girls I fuck. I have this thing about going there. You know to that level. To me there’s something more intimate about kissing a woman than being involved in a random sexual romp with her. Something special and beautiful about it. It’s like a deep connection to their soul. I know that seems weird, right? Because nine times out of ten you’d think it would be the other way around. One would think that having sex with a woman would give you that deeper connection, but for me it doesn’t.
I did have one relationship in high school with the girl I lost my virginity to. She was a senior and I was a sophomore. Yes, she totally robbed the cradle. But I didn’t mind. In fact I let her rob me repeatedly for almost a year. And I enjoyed it. Very much. There was this one thing she always said right before we’d fuck that at the time I’d always shrug off, but as I got older it always stayed with me. “Not only are our lips connected, but so are our hearts.” There’s something powerful in that saying. At least to me anyway.
I think my first and only girlfriend, Analee, broke a part of me in a way. Because shortly after we started hooking up she cheated on me with some college dude.
At the time, I was a little disheartened. Then again, I know I cared about Analee, but I know I didn’t love her. I cared about her, she was my first, but love to me equals more than hooking up several times. Love goes deeper than that and lasts longer.
Plus, it bothers me that some girls and men can be so fickle. It bothers me that when in a relationship people can just toss their partner aside like garbage and do intimate things with others behind their backs. I’m not cool with cheating. For either party. I think my parents provided a solid example of a loving relationship. Because even though my da met his demise early on my Ma never dated after that, and she’d always say it was because she didn’t think she’d ever experience the kind of love she had with my da twice in her life.
She’d say it was rare.
One of a kind.
Something that was so special she was lucky enough to experience it at least once.
I didn’t ignore everything you ever told me.
It just takes that one person in your life to bring out those kinds of feelings.
I might have found her.
Chapter Twenty Six
Connie’s eyes were glued to the flat screen television mounted on his wall above his fireplace as the commentators for the Reilly/Mullins fight speculated on who each other thought would take home the gold belt.
Out of the four commentators, three thought Sean would hold the title of middle weight boxing champion of the world yet again.