Page 43 of Duke

I sighed. “Okay, fine. Here it is.” I crossed my arms under my chest to prop up my cleavage, which is part of the spiel. “’Listen, Duke’—and here obviously I say their name—‘I think you’re sexy, and I’m looking forward to getting to the good stuff. But, there’s a little thing we have to discuss first.’ And here I’d bring out the NDA and a pen. ‘So, obviously you know who I am, and I hope you understand that I’m only doing this to protect my privacy, but…I’m going to need you to sign this non-disclosure agreement. This is non-negotiable, I’m afraid. You can read it for yourself, but it basically says you won’t tell anyone,ever,anything about what we do together. That includes your buddies, the paparazzi, bloggers, tabloids, your closest bro, nobody. Ever. You also can’t tell anyone about the NDA itself.

“‘There’s one other thing you’re agreeing to, if you sign that, and let me assure you that if you don’t sign it, then you’ll be leaving. You don’t contact me after we’re done. No phone calls or texts, no PMs, DMs, or Tweets, nothing, ever. That’s not what we’re doing here. So, Duke, if you agree to all that, then sign and date the document, and we can move on to the fun part.’” I shrug. “That’s pretty much how it goes, more or less.”

Duke was quiet for a while. “And they agree?”

I nod. “Ninety-nine point nine percent of the time. I’ve had a couple guys back out, but yeah, most of the time they agree to it, and they sign it.” I glance at him. “Why do you sound so…skeptical?”

He bobs his head to one side. “Well, because I wouldn’t agree to that shit. My word is my bond, at the risk of sounding archaic or whatever. That shit is…crazy. I’d never sign a legally binding document just for a chance to bone a chick, no matter how hot or famous she might be.” He glanced at me, making anoopsface. “That came out kind of harsh, maybe. I just mean—”

I shrank against the door, away from him, staring out the window. “You’ve made yourself very clear, I’d say.”

He reached for me. “I didn’t mean it like that…” he trailed off, lowered his hand. “Well, maybe I did. But it’s not about you, necessarily. Like, It’s not about you not being worth the trouble or some shit. It’s just…that whole process, it’s just…cold, I guess. Takes the fun out of it. Part of the rush of casual sex is the risk, the mystery. You never know who you’re hooking up with, which is why you gotta be safe about things, obviously, but I just mean…shit, I don’t know how to put it.”

He took a deep breath and let it out, then continued. “The excitement, the fun, the passion—it’s about the mystery, not knowing the other person, sharing something intimate with a total stranger.”

Duke pauses then looks at me with a very serious expression on his face. “Putting a legal element to it, banning all future contact, putting this big legal disclaimer in front things, like hey, we’re gonna fuck, but you can’t ever tell anyone about it, you can’t talk about it, you just have to keep this thing that happened secret. I mean, I get why you do it, but it seems like it takes something away from the whole thing.”

“You don’t get what it’s like—” I started.

“No, I don’t,” Duke interrupted. “But that’s not the point. Yeah, you got burned, hard. And then you kept getting burned. But even for me, a committed bachelor, an expert at the random hook-up, it seems like you’ve made a logistical science out of the one-nighter. You’ve turned it into this—this…cold, passionless…thing.”

He glanced at me, and I hated the look in his eyes almost as much as I hated the precise, brutal accuracy of his assessment. “It’s just about the sex, at that point. And honey, plain old sex, if that’s all that’s happening, well goddamn, that shit is boring. That’s where thingsend. That’s the culmination of all the fun parts. If you’re just taking these guys home and climbing on and riding their dicks and then kicking ‘em out…where’s the fun? Where’s the—the juicy, messy craziness? Where’s the part where you rip each other’s clothes off and fuck like animals because you need thefuck, and I mean the tongues and the hands and the devouring each other, the teasing, the edging, the hardcore, rough and rabid, animalfucking?

“You make a guy sign some stupid paper, yeah it binds him legally, but he’s thinking aboutthatshit, not about how hard he’s gonna make you come, not about how he can get you to lose your fucking mind. Especially if he knows going in that all he ever gets is one shot? He gets to hook up withtheTemple Kennedy, but he can’t tell anyone and he only gets one lukewarm fuck? There’s no reason to up his game. It’s bullshit, is what it is. Yeah, it protects your privacy, but it also puts you up in this unbreachable tower like some kind of fucking Rapunzel. Sex isn’t about putting the dick in the pussy, Princess. It’s about a whole hell of a lot more than just…fucking.

“And I’m saying this as someone who rarely taps the same honey twice, okay? But when I do hook up with a girl, I make sure there’s…passionin it. I don’t know dick about love—I don’t mean that kind of passion. I don’t even know if that shit exists. I told you where I came from—some asshole paid my mom for a quick fuck with a bag of crack rocks. There ain’t ever been love in my life, unless you mean the guys I served with and fought next to—I can say I love those guys, but most of them are fuckin’ dead. So I don’t mean this is about the love kind of passion, like they put in those stupid Hollywood movies. That shit is for fairy tales and saps and fools, and I don’t buy it. So don’t mistake me, all right?”

He stabbed a finger at me, vivid, piercing blue eyes blazing at me before looking back at the road. “But sex,goodsex, even with a random, you gotta put a little bit of yourself into it. I’ve had chicks who think they can make me believe in love try to tell me, oh, Duke, you’re giving away part of yourself every time you have causal sex with someone you don’t intend to ever see again. But the way I see it, yeah, I’m giving part of myself away, but shit, I’m getting that same thing in return from the girl. That’s how it works. If she’s acting like I’m just some dick for her to ride and it don’t mean shit, it’s just gonna be some quick fluid-swapping, belly slapping fuck…and I’ll shut that shit down with extreme prejudice.

“Bereal, that’s all I ask—beintoit. I’m real; I’m a straight-up kind of dude. I’ll say it like it is, no bullshit. I’ll tell you it ain’t gonna be love because that shit doesn’t exist, but I’ll also promise it’ll be the best damn night of your life, and I’ll give it everything I’ve got to make that promise a reality.” He met my gaze again. “And what you’re doing, Fancy? That shit ain’t real. It ain’t even fucking. It’s just…sex. And, Honey, that’s sad, if you ask me.”

My head was spinning, my heart aching, my eyes stinging. “You’re a bastard, Duke Silver,” I said, my voice thick, breaking.

“Dammit, all I meant was—”

My voice was a hissing whisper. “Donotfucking talk to me. Don’t call me Fancy, or Princess, or any of that shit. You want to rip my life apart? Okay, fine, whatever. But you don’t get to keep talking to me, or acting like you know me. You don’t know me. Sofuck…you.”

“Temple, calm down a second.”

“Fuck YOU!” I shouted. “I tell you things I’ve never toldanyone, Ifinallyopen up to a man because I think maybe I’ve found the one guy who could understand me, just a little, or at least accept me, and what do you do? You tear me apart and make me feel like shit. Like I’m just some slutty ice queen.” I can’t help a sniffle, a tear, but then I clamp down on it and focus on pushing the emotions back down where they belong—under the surface, deep down, never to be seen again. “God, just when I thought I couldn’t get hurt any more, along comes Duke fucking Silver and his pompous, arrogant ass, proving me wrong, proving to me that, yes, there really is yet another way a man can hurt me.”

Duke opened his mouth to speak, but then the world ended in a deafening crash, and then the universe was spinning and twisting and flipping and something white exploded in my face and something crushed into my chest and something else sliced across my face and lanced past my breast and there was another crash and noise and pain—

7: YOU DON’T KNOW SHIT

Well…fuck.

Again.

I felt myself coming to, but this time it happened all at once, and in a blinding flash of pain. Then I was hit with the sudden realization that I was upside down, and that something was wrong.

Everything was wrong, but something big and important and specific was very, very wrong.

I forced my eyes open, struggling to focus past the crushing pain in my skull and the blood rushing to my head and the blood dripping down my chin and into my eyes and off my nose. Glancing to my right, I could see Temple, dangling limp, suspended by her seatbelt, passed out. She was a mess. Blood was matted in her hair from a cut along her hairline and another dripping slice across her chest, right across that perfect cleavage of hers.

What happened?

I was in pain, but nothing felt too fucked up. A headache, whiplash, aches and bruises—