The Convenient Wife

Rolling off me and onto his back, Bolt chuckles. “Now that was a good breakfast.”

“The breakfast of champions,” I say with a giggle. “How often do you have breakfast like that?” I’m probing him, I know. But I can’t hide that I’m curious about his history, about where this type of thing fits into his life.

“I’d be happy if I could eat like that every day.” Smirking, he pushes himself up and pulls the condom off. Tying it up, he stands and walks naked to the bathroom.

My eyes follow him as he moves proudly through the room. I’m in awe as his perfect body is more of a piece of art than a living creature. His ass flexes as he walks, the muscles in his back twist and contort. His cock dangles by his inner thighs, still partially hard, but just as thick.

His skin is glistening, and all I can think about is running my tongue over each dip and curve, tasting his salty flavor.

Bolt disappears into the bathroom and the sound of water ripples through the air. “Is there something else you want to ask me?” Coming to stand in the doorway, he’s drying his hands on a hand towel. “Because we don’t have to do this dance, you can just ask.”

“What do you mean?” I know it’s a stupid question, but I feel cornered. He can see right through me, he knows what I’m getting at. I just don’t want him to know I’m digging for answers.

His past is none of my damn business. Neither is his present or his future, because all we have is an arrangement. Period.

Arching his brows, Bolt strolls back into the bedroom, the muscles in his legs popping with each step. My eyes run up and down his body, unable to look away. He’s a god, a god that has somehow gotten lost and ended up here with me.

Tilting his head into his shoulders, his pupils turn to pinpricks. “Starla, just ask.”

“No, no,” I say, waving my hand to brush the entire thing away. “It’s none of my business, forget it. It’s a stupid question, I shouldn’t ask you something like that.”

“You have every right to ask. So, go on, ask me. I’m telling you to.”

Swallowing hard, my eyes flick away so I can take a breath and catch my bearings. It’s hard to get any of the correct words in my brain with a naked Bolt Sheckler two feet away.

Finding the courage to be upfront and not dance around it, I force my voice to steady. “Have you been with a lot of women?” A sense of relief washes over me as the words leave my mouth.

It’s an important question. We did just have sex, and if we plan on doing this fake bride thing for a few more months, I’d like to know. I don’t need a precise number, I just need to know how often we might run into an ex on the street.

Nothing is worse than being out with some guy and running into their ex. It’s awkward and uncomfortable, and you can usually see whatever it is the girl is still feeling in her eyes.

Hate.

Love.

Bitterness.

Rage.

Jealousy.

And somehow it’s your fault. Not the guy, but you, the new girlfriend.

“Let me just say this,” Bolt takes a naked seat beside me, so I grip the sheet and wrap it around my chest. I have no idea what he’s going to say. At least having the sheet gives me some sort of cover in case I have to make a run for it. “Who we are now, is not who we were ten years ago, a year ago—shit—we’re not even the same as we were a month or even a day ago. People change. I’m not the same man I was before. Who I am today, is because I’m deciding to be that person, no one is making me be him. I hate when people only see one person and they can never let the old version go. It just keeps us all in the past, and it’s not always a good place to be.”

His massive hand settles on my thigh and gives me a reassuring squeeze. I smile up at him, not sure how I want to handle his answer.

I know he’s right. People change, and no one should be judged off who they once were. I just don’t know him well enough to call bullshit or not on what he’s feeding me.

I want to believe him. The look in his eyes is begging me to listen to this man and not the man I might have heard about.

But a player doesn’t get his name from being honest. A player gets his name from telling girls what they want to hear to get them into bed.

Tightening the sheet around my chest, I angle my head. “I guess we’ll just have to see about that.”