Status Updates From Le maître de ses nuits

"If the guy's that much of a dick, be sure to practice safe business.

- I thought I told you to stop making jokes. They're horrible.

What could delaying the truth a few more days hurt?

- You are a moron.

"Look at me."

She glanced back, wary of his quiet surety.

"If he'd been disrespectful, I would have put a stop to it."

- Oh-kay. I really want to like you, Eric, and you are making it very difficult. It's like you're trying to rise up to new levels of assholery.

"Note to self - the woman finds torture hysterical.

- Okay, that one was actually cute. :)

"I can handle you screwing up if you're truly trying, but the demanding and commanding crap? It doesn't work. It pushes every defensive button I have and it will send me through your front door so fast the only think I'll leave behind is the cartoonlike outline of my as I exit."

- Dude, this is the third time she's warned you about this. THIRD. Perhaps you should start listening and stop being such a dick

"I have a real thing for pirate ships. Must be the booty.

- *groan* For the love of all that is holy, Eric, please stop trying to make jokes. You suck at it.

"Please, don't hurt me." The words were out before she could stop them.

"I'll never hurt you, baby."

An electric jolt of awareness nearly made her hair stand on end. "Don't make promises you can't keep."

"I don't."

- Um, excuse me? *raises hand* You are completely hiding 1/2 your life from her. Don't you think THAT will hurt her when she finds out?!?! Just a thought.

"Yeah, well, I'm famous for my witty repartee."

- *chokes on her coffee* You have GOT to be kidding me. Delusional much?

"I'm probably going to hate myself for asking this, but how did you end up so amazingly balanced and, well, normal?"

"It was the biggest 'screw you' I could deliver to my parents."

"Ah, the equivalent of the after-dinner mint."

I'm sorry, that wasn't even remotely funny or clever. Stop trying to crack jokes.

"Give the man a prize.. or pie," she whispered, voice as sultry as sex-fueled sin.

- That pie comment is just lame. Super-lame.

And even being a veritable stranger, Cass had found the right words, short and simple, to offer heartfelt condolences.

- Oh, really? I thought this was "playing the sympathy card?" Make up your &^%$ mind, Eric.

A sense of absolute conviction marched up her spine. She wanted to understand what it was she felt when he held her, what it was he stirred in her body when he loved her. She wanted to understand him. What could it hurt to have him stay for one more day? The idea thrilled her.

- You are sending out so many mixed messages, lady.

- Well, okay, that was very good sex - props to you - but you forgot to use a condom.

"I should have been there, Cass. You shouldn't have had to deal with that on your own." He choked the sharp words out.

"It wasn't your responsibility."

"Bullshit."

"What makes you think I need you to take care of my problems?" she demanded, pulling away from him. "You're not my boyfriend."

..."That may be true, but I would've enjoyed it.
- I would also enjoy you beating the shit out of him, Eric.

She wondered if he'd used that line on any of his other clients.

- OMG, Cass, he's a stripper. Not a prostitute! Stripper! Jeez. Stop saying shit like this.

"Sure, but you wear your beauty well, Cass. No one is responsible for that but you."

- What? What is going on here? I am confused.

"You're so damn beautiful."

A flush of pleasure made her bury her face in his chest. "Thank you, but really? It was just a lucky hand in the cosmic genetics poker game. I had nothing to do with it."

- Am I the only one who thinks this is a strange response?

The orgasm burned through her like a wind-fueled wildfire over parched grassland. It consumed her and left nothing behind but ash.

- o.O

"Good girl."

- Don't you ever fucking say this to her again. She's not a Golden Retriever, you piece of shit.

He'd been able to share the tiniest corner of truth with Cass - that raising Blake had been tough - and she hadn't played the sympathy card or asked him a thousand questions.

- Time out. Big problem here. When you tell someone something sad about your life and they say, "I'm sorry," or express an interest by asking questions - this is just a normal, friendly human response. WTF, Eric?

The ride to Cass's apartment passed in silence, giving Eric time to think and, ultimately, feel guilty. He should have told Cass his real name before kissing her. Letting her go on believing he was "Dalton" was far too close to lying by omission.

Cass whipped her chin away, turning her face into the corner. What the hell was she doing?

- You are making out heavily with a man you just met in the dark corner of a nightclub.