Page 77 of Take My Name

“You gotta throw out the babies, sweethearts, darlings. Kiss her knuckles. Only have eyes for her, and if another woman hits on you, pretend it doesn’t faze you.”

But it wouldn’t faze me.

“Is that so?” I deadpan.

“Girls eat that shit up, I’m tellin’ ya! Then, when you’re dancin’, you whisper sweet nothings in her ear about how you can’t keep your eyes or hands off her sexy body, how you’re desperate for her, andbeg.”

An aspirated laugh escapes me. “Beg?”

“Yeah, beg to kiss her or eat her out. Tell her you’ll die if you don’t taste her. Shit like that.”

I stare at him, unblinking.

“If she has a praise kink, holy shit. Tell her how good she takes your big cock. She’ll be putty in your hands.”

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I can’t believe I’m getting sex advice from my younger brother.

“And this works for you?” I ask, more curious than anything since I’ve never been in the dating scene and have only slept with my wife.

“Every-fucking-time!” he gloats, and I shake my head at his confidence. “In fact, they love it so much, they end up beggin’ on their knees for me.”

And now I regret asking.

“You seriously sound like a douche.”

“Hey, if they wanna meet Colt Jr., who am I to say no?” He throws his hands up like it’s such a hardship having so many women want him. “But never be pushy about it. The more I tell ’em nothin’ has to happen and we can move slowly, the more they’re beggin’ for it.”

“How in the world haven’t you knocked up a girl by now?”

“I’m horny, not stupid. I wrap it every time, thank you.”

“Glad to hear it,” I say dryly.

“Trust the process. It’s foolproof.”

“I think I’m good…” I drawl. “But thanks.”

He stands. “Alright, well…don’t come cryin’ to me when she realizes you have no game.”

“I can’t wait for the day you’re obsessed with a girl who doesn’t give you the time of day and you’re wonderin’ why yourprocessain’t workin’ on her.”

“That’ll never happen.”

“Pfft.” I snicker. “Okay.”

“Well, not anytime soon. Maybe when I’m like forty and ready to get married.”

“Forty? Fuckin’ hell.”

“Or fifty.”

“You’re as bad as Bodie, I swear.”

“Because we didn’t marry the first girls who showed us their tits?”

“Dude.” I scowl. “Fuck off.”

“And look how that turned out?”