Maneater

Chapter Eighteen

    She was scared. Out of her mind. The expression on her pretty little face said that any minute now, she could bolt. Her fear ran that deep. Knowing that her far ran that deeply, Austin should have been a stand-up man and allowed her to walk back out of his life so that she could continue living her own. That is what a gentleman would do. On a typical day, he prided himself on being a gentleman. But there was something holding him back from being the gentleman he should be. It was a little more than curiosity, a little more than being a glutton for the death stares that Crystal kept throwing at him. It was a little more than a simple desire to fuck her brains out. It was more than that, even though he was just as bad as she was, wallowing in denial and telling himself that he could somehow keep his interactions with her casual. The truth was, he already knew that he wanted more than just casual interaction with her.

    In all of his years as an entertainer and in all of his years before that, he'd never come across a woman as raw as she was. He'd never come across a woman who could seem so assertive and in control one minute and so vulnerable the next. There was beauty in that vulnerability. He was good at reading people, but hadn't expected her to show any signs of vulnerability quite this earlier. It was a pleasant surprise to get those little peeks into the woman she really was, instead of wrestling with the stone wall of a woman that she pretended to be.

    She was like a flower with closed petals, that would - on occasion - open its petals, only to close them shortly after. Her petals were open now, as she walked around his bedroom nosing around, looking at the framed photographs and artwork that he had on display.

    His bedroom was...rustic. That was the best word to describe it. A lot of dark wood, a lot of dark colors throughout. There weren't many feminine touches to the room, despite the fact that a woman had helped decorate it for him. He'd had a vision as to what he wanted the room to look like and she'd helped bring that vision to life. In one way or another, whether it was music or another aspect of his life, women were always helping him to bring his visions to life.

    Crystal ran her fingers across the top of one of the picture frames.

    "Me and my mother," he said from behind her.

    She jumped a little at the sound of his voice, but recovered quickly. "I figured as much," she said, turning away from the picture and walking across the room.

    He smiled and scratched the back of his head.

    It seemed that it hadn't taken her long to close her petals back up. All signs of vulnerability were gone as she stopped in front of the balcony window. "This is too much bedroom for just one person."

    Still smiling, he walked over to his bed and dropped down onto it, angling an arm behind his head. "That sounds like an offer to me."

    "A woman coughing would sound like an offer to you," she muttered, peering out of the window that overlooked his backyard.

    He laughed. "How I missed your witty comebacks," he said, closing his eyes. "It seems like forever since I've heard one. How long did it take you to come up with that one?"

    "Why am I here?" From the sound of her voice, he could tell that she was facing him instead of the window now.

    He cracked open one eye. "That's a question you should be asking yourself, isn't it?"

    "I'm asking you." She remained near the window, not daring to come any closer to the bed.

    Oh baby girl, I don't bite. Not unless I know you want it. "You're here because I have a proposition for you."

    "I'm here because you want me to be your fuck buddy."

    "That sounds so...so...impersonal."

    "That sounds so...so...one hundred percent real," she said, turning back to the window. "Fuck buddy setups aren't really personal, so that's fitting."

    "I don't want you to be my fuck buddy," he said firmly.

    "Then I'm confused as to why we're in your bedroom right now."

    "Because I want to fuck you."

    She stared blankly at him.

    He laughed and looked over at her - with both eyes this time. "I hate how fuck buddy sounds. It takes away from the significance of it all. I don't just want to fuck you." He sat up and rose from the bed. Keeping his eyes locked on hers, he continued speaking. "I want us to be able to spend time together, just hanging out. Talk. Travel together. I get to see the world, every year. I want someone to share that with. And while I want to fuck you, I also want to make love to you. I want to give you a shoulder rub when you've had a long day, and I want to hold you until you fall asleep at night."

    "So...you want a relationship without calling it a relationship."

    "No."

    She laughed outright. "Are you kidding me, Austin? Shoulder rubs? Holding me? That isn't what fuck buddies do."

    He held up his hands in a defensive gesture. "Forgive me. I didn't know there was a fuck buddy code."

    "Yeah, well...there is." She wrapped her arms around herself.

    Unable to keep the amusement off of his face, he asked, "And what is that code?"

    "Well...no hugging or shoulder rubs, for starters," she said.

    "Okay. Done."

    "And...no hand-holding, or any of that nonsense."

    "Hand-holding equals nonsense. Got it."

    "And...no googly eyes when you're looking at me."

    He nodded slowly in mock-contemplation. "Right, because I'm the one who's been giving the other googly eyes."

    She smacked him in the arm. "You have been," she insisted.

    He rolled his eyes. "All right, anything else, oh fuck buddy sensei?"

    "You jest, but the only way an arrangement like this would work...the only way we'd be able to successfully keep feelings and emotions out of this...is if we nix all of the fluffy shit and just focus on..."

    "The fucking?" he finished for her, moving so close to her that his hips were leaning into her.

    A helpless look flashed in her eyes, but it was gone so quickly that he wondered if he imagined seeing it. "Yes."

    He reached out and touched a strand of her hair. "I think I can focus on that," he said, his voice low.

    She slapped his hand away.

    "I can't even touch your hair, huh?"

    "No. None of the affectionate shit."

    "Then what can I touch?" he asked, lowering his head until their lips were almost touching.

    "I'm still deciding on that," she replied breathlessly.

    "Well..." He grabbed both of her hips and roughly pulled her against him. Then he positioned his mouth near her ear and said, "Decide faster."