Page 3 of Drive Me Wild
This makes him pause. “I’m actually a Sagittarius.”
A smile breaks across my face. Theo’s only a few years older than me, but maturity-wise, he’s a lot younger. “Why do you need to delete a text?”
“I accidentally sent Andreas a rather… risqué photo of myself,” Theo mumbles just loud enough for me to hear. I throw my head back as I laugh. Theo’s done a lot of idiotic things, but sending McAllister’s team principal a dick pic tops them all.
“How do you accidentally do that?” I howl, clutching my stomach.
He huffs loudly and narrows his eyes at me. “In my defense, Andrea and Andreas are only a letter off. I obviously didn’t mean to send it tohim.”
I usually don’t bother learning the names of Theo’s “women,” because by the time I do, he’s already moved onto someone else. The only way to tell his revolving door of lady friends apart is by which flat tummy tea or hair vitamin they’re promoting on the internet.
“Wow,” I say, shaking my head. “You continue to surprise me, Walker.”
His deep chuckle reverberates through the speaker on Blake’s phone. “I like to keep you on your toes, Bancroft. What’d you do last night? Get wild and crazy at a pub? Didn’t see any stories on Instagram.”
“Probably because all I did was order in sushi, drink wine, and binge-watchMasterChef. Did you know that you can use Coke in a marinade? I guess the acidity tenderizes the meat or something.”
“They televise that? It feels illegal…”
It takes me a minute to catch onto where his head is at. “Not thedrug,you bloody idiot. The fizzy drink! Coca Cola. Pepsi. Christ, Walker.”
He shrugs his broad shoulders. “Sounds just as illegal. Why are you staying in on a Saturday night? You’re freshly single,Jos. You’re supposed to be living it up, not acting like a fifty-five-year-old divorcee, watching cooking shows to impress your dinner guests.”
I stick my tongue out. “I’ll have you know that I?—”
“And by living it up, I meant getting laid, princess,” he clarifies, cutting me off. “Dicks galore and all that. There are plenty of fish in the sea, myself included.”
“Sushi is technically fish,” I remind him, grinning at my cleverness. “Now, was that it? I’ve got people to see and things to do.”
Things that don’t involve discussing my sex life, or lack of one.
His lips curl like flames. “When I get back to London, can I be one of the things you do?”
“Absolutely not.”
Before he can see the smile tugging at my lips, I end the call. I’d like to say I’m completely immune to Theo’s charm, but who am I kidding? We’ve always enjoyed a flirtatious friendship under the keen awareness that it’ll never go further than that. I set boundaries when we first met, and Theo’s respected them for the past few years. I’ve always had a boyfriend, and he’s always had, well, like two to five women at a time.
I don’t want him to read into any suggestive banter with my newfound single status. Now is the time for me to fall back in love with myself, not a man. That means no bananas for me—metaphorical or not.
TWO
THEO
It’s probably notthe best idea to Google the dictionary definition of a fuckboy when the woman I just slept with is still in the room. I mean, sure, I have no desire to be in a serious relationship, but that doesn’t mean I’m against love or anything. I simply enjoy the female body way too much to commit myself to onlyoneat this point in my life. Don’t get me wrong, the women I spend time with know the score; I’m careful to never make promises or set any expectations whatsoever, so it’s clear that I’m not interested in anything long-term or meaningful.
I’m too focused on my career to handle the delicate nature of being in a relationship right now. I want someone to yell at me to fuck them harder, not yell at me for being late for a dinner date. How can I stay at the top of my career if I’m not fully focused? I want to win another World Championship, and I can’t do that if I’m distracted because I’m texting my girlfriend back. So, for now, love can take a backseat to lust.
Thankfully, Jenna—the brunette who just gave me a blowjob that included moves I’ve only seen in porn—is on the same page as me. She’s probably the longest “relationship” I’ve ever had, although we’ve never done anything outside the confines of my California king. She’s a traveling consultant, but I’m on her “to-do” list whenever she’s in London. We have mind-blowing sex a few times a year, that’s it. If only all women were as casual as Jenna.
“You don’t leave until Tuesday, right?”
“Mm-hmm.” She’s already back in work-mode, typing away on her phone at rapid-fire speed. There’s nothing professional about her outfit, though. She’s wearing tight leather pants that fit her shapely legs like a glove and a silky blouse that’s now missing a few buttons, thanks to my eagerness to get her naked.
“We can grab drinks or something before you leave.” I quickly add, “If you want.”
She flicks her gray-blue eyes away from the screen, focusing on me for the first time in ten minutes.A true fuckboy wouldn’t notice the color of her eyes, right?“Theo. You’re a sweetheart, but don’t make this weird. You don’t need to buy me a drink to guarantee you’ll get laid the next time I’m in town.”
I snort loudly. Apparently, wanting to know more about Jenna than her Instagram handle and last name is one step too far in our arrangement.It’s not like I asked her what her blood type is.I like sex with a little bit of an emotional connection—which may be my problem—but at the end of the day, sex is sex. I’m not going to argue with her.
