I still have one-hundred-and-ninety to go.
I sighed heavily, wrenching the guy’s gaze back to mine. He no longer looked at me with rosy-coloured afterglow but an honest, raw expression that made my stomach tighten.
“Look, I know you’ll think low of me. After all, I paid money to enjoy your company. I’m probably over double your age. And you most likely didn’t enjoy our night together as much as I did.” He rubbed a hand over his mouth. “But…I need you to know that I enjoyed every minute of it. I loved how eager you were. How receptive. How damn beautiful you are. I know your participation came from the serum Sinclair has created but I just wanted to say you gave me something I’ve been missing since my wife died ten years ago.”
I froze as his voice wobbled without warning.
He smiled even as tears wetted his eyes. “Fuck.” Swiping away his grief, he added, “Sorry, I don’t know why the hell talking about her is affecting me so much. It’s been years but…after last night…it reminded me just how much I miss female company. How much I miss being touched and touching someone. How much I miss looking after someone.”
I flinched as he strode toward me and took my hand.
I wanted to pull away, but the imploring look on his face made me pause. He didn’t strike me as evil or that I was at risk of being made to sleep with him again while alone on this sandy laneway. He honestly looked lost. Lost, alone, and terribly sad.
“Do you judge me for my fantasy?” His eyes tightened. “That you were in the role of my son’s girlfriend?”
I wriggled my fingers in his, trying to get away. I couldn’t exactly tell the truth, but I wouldn’t lie, either. Then again, why couldn’t I tell him the truth? Hopefully, he was leaving tonight, and we’d never see each other again.
Pinning him with a cool stare, I said, “Yes, I judge you. Why have such a fantasy if it’s not based on truth? Why fantasise about your son’s girlfriend? If you miss your wife like you say, then why not fantasise about her?”
He sighed, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles. Unlike when Sully touched me, I had no sizzle, no spark. Just the annoying stroking of a man who carried far more baggage than his happy-go-lucky veneer suggested. He needed a therapist, not a goddess.
“I think about my wife constantly.” He shrugged. “But I don’t think about her when she died. I remember her how she was when we first met. Young. Vulnerable. Trusting and full of unconditional affection. Unfortunately…my daughter-in-law looks very similar to my wife… with the same blind devotion.”
“Devotion to your son. Not you.”
“I’m aware of that.”
“It’s abhorrent to lust after your son’s partner.” My nose wrinkled. “What sort of father does that make you?
“A bad one.” He flinched. “I’m aware it’s a disgusting confession. But you have to understand, my son met his girlfriend on the two-year anniversary of my wife’s death. When he brought her around, I almost fell to my knees thinking my Jody had been reincarnated in her. Watching them fall in love, seeing how much they cared for each other, being forced to realise that I would never have that with my wife again…it…” He sighed again. “It scrambled me a little. I witnessed them falling in love and went along for the ride. I fell for my daughter-in-law, not because I loved her exactly, but because I loved what she would give my son. What a relationship meant. How damn lucky they were to have each other. How much I missed that bond.”
Ever so slowly, I extracted my hand from his control. “Look, I’m sorry you’re hurting, but you can find another to love. Losing someone to death is tragic, but you need to allow yourself to heal.” I blinked, surprised that such compassion had risen, despite my reservations of this whole interaction. “And I suggest you keep such unacceptable desires hidden.”
My stomach growled, reminding me I needed to eat. I needed to seek out the other goddesses and try to find a way to become one of them so Sully left me the hell alone in the future.
Roy Slater rolled his shoulders and nodded sadly. “I know. And I have tried, believe me.” He licked his lips. “I’ve dated. I’ve done the online thing and even let a few friends set me up, but…” He chuckled low. “All women my age either have their own heartache, are too independent, or just want me for my money.” His gaze rose, once again snaring mine. “I want a girl I can dote on. Someone young who needs me, not just wants me. I’m a wealthy man, and I want to spend that wealth making her happy. It would…fulfil me and stop me being so empty.”