T.L. Swan

History will be kind to me, for I intend to write it,” I say.

“Quoting Winston Churchill now, Mr. Miles?” she breathes.

Damn it, Emily, why do you always take the hard way? Why do you always fall for the wrong guy? The last man had no motivation, and this man has too much. Both men didn’t care enough to go the extra mile for me. Maybe my expectations are too high from my book boyfriends in my romance novels—maybe Jameson was right on that one. But damn it, I want the fucking fairy tale for once.

The elevator door opens, and I walk

“Impressing a woman you’re attracted to is crucial,” he continues.

“And do tell . . . how would you impress a woman you’re attracted to?” I ask, fascinated.

His eyes hold mine. “Offer her a window seat.”

Right . . . well, in that case, I noticed your long legs and the curve of your neck. The dimple in your chin. You are the most attractive woman I’ve seen in a long time, and when you smiled, it brought me to my feet.”

I smile softly as the air swirls between us.

“And then you spoke . . . and ruined everything.”

What?

I burst out laughing. “I ruined everything? How did I ruin everything?”

“You’re bossy, with a sarcastic snark.”

“What’s the problem with that?” I stammer in outrage.

“Well, I’m bossy and sarcastic.” He shrugs.

“And?”

“And I don’t want to date myself. I like sweet, demure girls, the ones who do what I say.”

“Ugh.” I roll my eyes. “The ones who clean the house and have sex on Saturdays.”

“Precisely.”

I laugh and hold my glass up to clink with his. “You’re not bad for a boring old guy with weird shoes.”

He laughs. “And you’re not bad for a young, hot smart-ass.”

“Do you want to watch Magic Mike XXL with me?” I ask.

“I suppose, although I should let you know . . . I am an ex-stripper myself, so this is nothing new for me.”

“Really?” I try to hide my smile. “You’re good on a pole?”

His eyes hold mine. “My pole work is the best in the country.”

I hold his face in my hands. “God, you’ve got a beautiful cock,” I whisper. “Is it weeping for me, baby?” I whisper as I clench around him. “I can feel your pulse in it.”

He gives me a slow, sexy smile as he pumps me

and in a moment of perfect clarity, he turns his head and tenderly kisses my inner ankle

“Goodbye, my beautiful fuck bunny,” he whispers.

I run my fingers through his hair as I stare at his gorgeous face. “Goodbye, Blue Eyes.”

He picks the scarf up and inhales deeply. “This smells like you.”

“Put it on every time you jerk off.” I smile sweetly. “Imagine it’s me doing all the work.”

His eyes flicker with excitement. “You know, for someone who hasn’t had sex for eighteen months, you’re a fucking sex maniac

I smile sadly at the door he just left through. “Yes, sure, you can have my number,” I whisper into the silence.

But he didn’t want it. He’s gone

Miles-High Club, E