Falling for My Dirty Uncle

s really awkward.

I could just tell her to join me but I’m not in the habit of post-sex niceties, to be honest, so I have to say I’m feeling a bit uneasy about that. So, instead of inviting her to join me, I just say that I’ll show her the bathroom.

I take her to the private bathroom in my bedroom, and a few minutes later we’re both standing under the warm running water, washing away our sins.

Yeah, not the same bathroom.

Don’t get your hopes up. She’s in my private bathroom, and I’m in the main one.

Fuck, I could be with her right now. But what would she think of that? I don’t want to come on to her too hard, which is kinda fucking ironic, if you take into account the way we fucked last night.

And what the fuck is wrong with me?

I never overthink these things.

For a fraction of a second, I imagine being under the running water with her, just showering like two regular people, and I even picture myself helping her fucking shampoo her hair. I must be running a fever, that has to be it.

To be absolutely honest with you, doll, I don’t think I ever remember the last time I ever wanted to be this close to a woman. And when I say close, I’m not talking about being physically close. It’s more than that.

Alright, let me fucking stop right here or next thing you know I’m writing poetry.

And you’ll just fucking snort, wondering what happened to make an alpha male bad boy into a mewling kitten.

Fuck that.

I’m over her.

I push all these rosy fucking thoughts out of my head and finish showering. Like a fucking man.

I put on a black suit and, by the time I’m finished getting ready, Destiny gets out of the bathroom looking completely stunning, even though she’s wearing her clothes from when I met her at 230 Fifth this afternoon.

“Fuck,” I whisper as I see her, and she raises one eyebrow at me.

“What?” she asks, and I don’t know what to tell her. I settle for the truth.

“You look amazing,” I say, and she arches her eyebrows even more.

“I’m not wearing any make-up, my hair is shit, and I’m wearing a creased dress,” she purses her lips, probably thinking that I’m messing with her, but I just grin.

“And you look fucking stunning,” I admit, no longer caring about what she thinks. “I guess that there’s actually a pretty woman under all that make-up.”

“Asshole,” she laughs, and then closes the distance between the two of us and punches me playfully in the arms.

“That’s me.” Without even thinking, I place my hands on her waist and pull her in, pressing my mouth on her. It’s just a short kiss, but the simplicity of it makes me wary.

I never bought all that romantic shit about magical kisses and unicorns, but there’s something about this woman that’s clouding my fucking mind. She’s dangerous like that, I can tell. I guess this is the way most women feel when they are with me. Yeah, I’m Mr. Cocky asshole, nice to meet you too.

“Shall we?” she asks me, and I nod.

We get out of the apartment in silence. We’re standing side by side when I press the button to summon the elevator and, as we’re waiting, my hands brush accidently against hers.

I feel her fingers twitch, and mine do so as well. The elevator opens with a quiet ding, and we step inside without even looking at each other. But then, as we face forward, our hands brush against one another again. This time I don’t fucking hesitate, I just turn my hand around and hold hers. She wraps her fingers around mine and, just like a fucking 16-year-old high-school couple discovering what sex and love really are, we hold hands as the elevator makes its way down.

Yeah, I can’t believe this is fucking happening.

I’ve had the sweetest women over in my apartment before Destiny, and some of them were even virgins, and now here I end up holding hands with a reformed porn star.

Maybe destiny is playing a trick on me… Which is kinda ironic, don’t you think? Destiny is using destiny to mess with my head. How’s that for the universe making a joke at your expense?