The Dons Runaway bride

"Have you ever been in love?"

The sugary sweet voice belongs to the woman currently skating a sharp pink-painted fingernail down my bare chest. She has her head with tawny locks of hair resting against my chest, hearing the beats of my heart which are in a pattern of solace, having sought comfort in the warmth of her skin.

The nicotine from the cigarette swirls in my mouth before I part my lips, releasing a waft of white smoke toward the ceiling of her one-bedroom apartment above a cafeteria downstairs.

"No," my answer is formed in a hollow tone, chasing the smoke away from my lips.

The woman tilts her head, grey eyes finding my chin. She is the prettiest of all the women I have entertained, thinking that I could move on from her-from the one that has my heart in her fist while she remains unbothered by my existence, finding her peace in a home with Ryan.

"That's a lie," Melanie comments. "You're thirty- three. You must have been in love once."

"Love is a name given to an intense need to let go of your ownership to belong to someone else. I consider myself above minuscule human connections," I tell her, stating a false claim flatly.

She is a good fuck. I don't wish for her to be anything more.

"I don't believe that. You're lying." She pushes herself from my body, the comforter sliding down her body, a full tit coming into view with its skin marked red by my teeth. "You can tell me the truth. I'm good with keeping secrets."

"You really wanna know?"

"Can't I? You're a fascinating man. We have slept together more times than I can count now. I deserve to know something about you."

"I know nothing about you."

I pull out the cigarette stick from my mouth, brushing it off on the ashtray kept above her nightstand. I rise from my lying position, the heavy feeling in my chest just as evident as it was two years ago while I plant my feet on the hardwood floor, grabbing for my pair of discarded jeans.

"Another lie. You're getting good with this, stranger," Melanie says.

I find her with her knees pulled to her chest, her arms over it as she watches me wear my jeans. I pull the zipper, my cock having grown flaccid the moment she started getting personal.

"I was in love once. I still am," I confess, the biting memory not being of a livening nature to me.

"Who's she? Someone special?" Melanie's eyes shimmer with curiosity that is devoid of any hint of jealousy.

She is a young woman of twenty-four. We first met each other when I visited the cafeteria she works at. We had a good time and I didn't even have to tell her my name to get her to sleep with me. She was only interested in my cock and I let her have it in exchange for her delicious pussy.

I have tried my best to dismiss the fact that she is a brunette too. Just like the rest of them.

Just like her.

"I did and now she's my brother's wife."

"Ouch!" Melanie bites down on the inside of her cheek at my response, a flash of guilt appearing in her pupils. "I touched a sore spot there. Sorry."

"Are you?" I mutter under my breath, reaching for my shirt which dangles on a corner of her bed.

When I first came here, she didn't have a bed at all. I bought it for her not only because I wanted to do something good but also to have something to bend her over for when I slammed into her from behind.

I slide my hands inside the sleeves, my back to her as I button myself, having lost interest in the conversation.

She however has a lot to say it seems.

"You're leaving earlier than usual. Wanna hang out for a while?" she inquires, climbing down the bed while being wrapped in the comforter still. She finds me struggling to pull on the buttons of my shirt and glides herself between a wall and my body to help. I let her while staring at the crown of her head which only reaches a mere 5 '3. "We can have a mini date in the cafeteria. You can tell me more about her."

She quickly finishes buttoning my shirt, looking up to beam at me through a pair of swollen lips that gives the world's best blowjobs.

"What made you think I want you to be my counselor?" I say harshly, stepping back from her as her smile drops at my dismissal of her intentions.

"I don't get you, stranger," she observes with a pouty mouth. "You never even told me your name. You come here and you fuck me and then when I start to want more, you leave."

Just like I want the rest of my life to be. Søttling isn't going to be my thing until I can erase her memories from my head. She haunts me without being dead.

"You shouldn't try getting to know me. I need your pussy and you love to suck on my cock. That's where our deal ends."

"Is it because I'm just a waitress? I'm not good enough for billionaires like you, am I?"

I roll my eyes at her dumb conclusion. "I'm not responsible for your self-hating thoughts."

I take a few steps towards the door but she stops me with a touch against my forearm.

"Will you come back?" she asks.

I chew at the inside of my cheek before facing her. She drops her hand, doe-like eyes wide on me as I take a step to come close to her. I lift a hand to her lips, dragging her plush bottom lip down, imagining the way it had sucked me off quite eagerly a few hours ago.

"Pretty girl..." I rasp which makes her flesh turn pink. "You should wish that I never come back. I'm not good news for you."

"I have a thing for bad boys."

My thumb departs her lip as my hand dips down, curling around the smooth olive skin of her neck. She jumps with a gasp when my fingers curve around that gentle throat, pushing her against the wall behind her. Her eyes bulge when I squeeze her, her face losing blood at an alarming rate the tighter my fingers grow. I lean forward, lips a hairsbreadth away from her earlobe.

"After the way you just tried to get personal with me..." I whisper with a threatening edge to my voice. "Pray that I never come back 'cause if I do, the next time you'll find yourself fucking a monster in your bed who's far from being a man."

I let my fingers uncurl when her face turns completely white. She coughs when I release her, moving away from her to give her space to breathe. Her eyes are bloodshot the next time she locks eyes with me.

"I see why the girl you love didn't love you back," she bites back. "Let me guess you're the kind who fucks women who remind you of her. Is she a brunette too?

Fighting the tug at my lips, I maintain a neutral expression as I reach for her door.

"You got the game," I say before I step out.

"Asshole!" I hear her faint shout from behind. "For your information - I'm blonde underneath the dye."

"Good for you. You just found your way out of the devil's snare," I apprise her. "Word of advice - don't find another."