PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

He watched her from an over-sized leather chair by the window. That’s how it was every time; he would smoke a cigarette as she slept peacefully after a night of rough sex and satisfying sweat. He would sneak away sometime before sunrise; spending a night with a woman was pure pleasure, but spending the night with one was a commitment he wasn’t prepared, or willing, to juggle.



She stirred softly, groaning as her hands slipped over the empty bed beside her. It wasn’t a surprise, but she was disappointed; Jack never seemed to stay long enough; she always wanted more but seldom did he occupy her bed once he got what he came for. It was a painful truth to accept, but she really was just his pick-me-up when reality became too difficult for him too handle.



She heard him shuffle restlessly behind her and she could almost picture the look on his face- his eyebrows furrowed in a cross between concern and irritation while his lips tugged into uncertainty; he had always been sure to leave before she awakened and he had to have been at least a little uncomfortable not having done so, though she knew he would never admit it.



“Well, well, well; what a pleasant surprise. Does this mean I get another ride or would you rather sit alone in the dark for a while longer?” she was teasing him with a fake southern accent, though everyone knew she was from New York.



He took another puff from his cigarette and smashed it on the windowsill. He squinted his eyes as she slid from the bed with cotton sheets draped around her naked body. He regarded her with both amusement and confusion as she approached him; he had never known her to be modest, yet she clutched the sheets to her almost as if she were ashamed.



“What’s wrong with you.”



“What’s wrong with me? Nothing’s wrong with me. Can’t I want to be near you without wanting to fuck you? I mean, sure, I’m not rejecting the idea, but-”



“Isn’t that kind of dangerous?” he didn’t play around after sex. She had intruded on his quiet time where he reflected on their passion and wondered when he would have the nerve to break her heart. Why she seemed to be different from all the others he would never know, but there was something about Diane, something he hated and loved to hate.



“Dangerous? Oh honey, you don’t pose a threat to me at all.” She crawled into his lap and wrapped her legs around him, almost daring him to play along. But then she nestled her face into his torso and let the rhythm of his breathing and the pounding in his chest lull her back to sleep. Goosebumps shivered across her body as his warm breath grazed over her neck.



“You cold? Here, let’s get back in bed.” He lifted her effortlessly and let her down gently. He climbed over her, careful not to disturb her, and pulled the sheets over them both. She rolled into him as if drawn to him by a magnet and drew him nearer; she knew he’d never leave her if she held on long enough.



“Isn’t this nice, us laying here?” she purred softly. And it was; he honestly could have stayed there, holding her and caressing her long after dawn broke through the night; but it wasn’t natural for him to feel so right in wrong places.



“Well, don’t get used to it, princess; this cowboy can’t stay long.” He could never stay long, never stay anywhere. That was how he liked it, consistent in his lack of commitment. If he didn’t promise her anything and she promised nothing in return, well, neither of them would be let down with empty words. “But I’ll tell you one thing; I’m up for some more of you before my actual riding on horses tomorrow.” he was over her in one swift movement, prepared for one more round before calling it quits.



Actual riding? Oh hell no.



She pushed him away half-heartedly, her sexual appetite pulverized by the charisma and flattery he seemed to be lacking. “No Jack, I don’t want to.”



Bitch. His eyes narrowed in furry. That stupid whore was sprawled across the bed before him, inviting him and she had the balls to shoot him down? He didn’t deal with teasing well and he passed his little temptress a disgusted look before pulling on his jeans and tucking his ruffled hair into the black cowboy hat he wore everywhere.



He didn’t even whisper a goodbye, but muttered obscenities under his breath and slammed the back door. Never before had she left him hanging like that, getting him all worked up and then shrugging him off like his needs weren’t important. She’d get hers next time she came sniffing around looking for a little one-on-one time.



She ran a hand through a tangle of rust colored curls. She let out a frustrated sigh and shook her head in confusion. Is this how it would always be? Was she just his whore to use whenever he wanted something regardless what her needs were? Sure, they had only been messing around for a month and she hadn’t had time to work out all his rough edges, but he didn’t seem too eager to bend, and he certainly wasn’t the poster boy the little girl in her thought she needed. He was a big, brutal man with hands that worked a ranch and emotions that never cleared the surface. Certainly she had expected to find more than a brawny cowboy with a heart of steel in her soul-search through Texas.