I am a slut. No worries.
I've come to terms with it, and you will too. I’m not one of those
girls who thinks she’s too plain, too fat, too skinny, too shy … no, I
don’t have that kind of luck. I’m the girl who knows she’s just right
for everyone. — Denver
A reputation as a manwhore–with–a–heart–of–gold tends to precede me. But, I don’t do girls with issues, that is until this girl. It's this girl I want to fix. This girl I want to protect. And maybe … more. — Ransom
Being in love with the same girl your entire life isn't all it's cracked up to be. She uses me in every way imaginable. How does she see me? I am her perpetual one-night stand. No strings, no attachments. Just mind-numbing sex ... for her anyway. — Greer
Feeling like the life is being choked out of her in the small town of Anaconda, Montana, Denver Dempsey craves the escape that college offers …even if that means leaving her “best friend with benefits” and looking for a new way to forget. Thinking she's found the perfect hookup in Ransom, Denver's outlook on college is bright. That is, until Greer shows up looking for a second chance, and Ransom's interest turns to hatred.
Love. Hate. Triangle.
Who's using who?
A reputation as a manwhore–with–a–heart–of–gold tends to precede me. But, I don’t do girls with issues, that is until this girl. It's this girl I want to fix. This girl I want to protect. And maybe … more. — Ransom
Being in love with the same girl your entire life isn't all it's cracked up to be. She uses me in every way imaginable. How does she see me? I am her perpetual one-night stand. No strings, no attachments. Just mind-numbing sex ... for her anyway. — Greer
Feeling like the life is being choked out of her in the small town of Anaconda, Montana, Denver Dempsey craves the escape that college offers …even if that means leaving her “best friend with benefits” and looking for a new way to forget. Thinking she's found the perfect hookup in Ransom, Denver's outlook on college is bright. That is, until Greer shows up looking for a second chance, and Ransom's interest turns to hatred.
Love. Hate. Triangle.
Who's using who?
Meet Denver
“She’s, at
best, a fuck buddy. However, I prefer the term ‘whore.’ Fuck buddy is far too
nice a term for her,” a catty voice cracks from behind me.
I
take a deep breath and look up at the ceiling, saying a little prayer that
maybe the venomous voice isn’t referring to me. I thought I’d left all that
behind in Anaconda. We’d been here for all of three days, so it’s highly
probable they’re not talking about me, right? Looking back down, I
continue pouring Jack in my Solo cup, surpassing the line that is recommended
for liquor.
“Yeah,
so apparently, she’s got some serious issues and doesn’t ‘do’ relationships.
So, she puts out for her guy friends whose girls are too good to give it up.
That’s her idea of a relationship.”
“Really?
That’s kinda gross,” I hear the other girl mutter.
Sonofabitch! I groan. Yep, they’re talking about
me. I splash a little Coke in my cup and stick my finger in it to stir it
around a little. I feel tears spring to my eyes and berate myself for still
having feelings and giving a shit what people think about me. Years of dealing
with this crap should have made me immune, but I’d really hoped college would
be different. And how the hell do they even know about that shit? Strengthening
my spine, I turn and give them a beguiling smile, which causes them both to
blanch. Yeah, bitches, you’ve no idea who you’re dealing with.
“Ladies,”
I say with a quirked eyebrow. Removing my finger from the drink, I place it in
my mouth and suck off the excess. With a pop, I release it. “I see my
reputation precedes me. Well, let me just reassure you that I’m very
good at what I do. When you won’t give it up for your guy, he’ll be looking me
up, and I’ll be more than happy to take care of him. No questions. No strings.
Just lots of meaningless … hot … sex.” I peer around them with a searching
look. “Are they here? Your boyfriends?” I look back at them innocently. I
almost snort at their mutual expressions of surprise and disdain. “Or,” I
continue, “are the sticks up your asses enough so that you don’t need a man?”
Both of their mouths drop on that line. Yep, gets ‘em every time. “Oh,
no judgment here,” I vow. “I totally get not wanting to be tied down to
any one Dick … or Tom … or Harry.”
All rights reserved. Copyright
Lynetta Halat 2013.
Since
the dawn of time, Lynetta Halat has lived to read and has written innumerable
stories and plays. A lover of good books, bad boys, and kickass tunes, she'd
always dreamt of penning books that people could connect with and remember. She
also has a secret penchant for wringing the emotions out of unsuspecting
readers, and she collects reader's tears in much the same way that wine
connoisseurs collect their favorite vintage.
Her
first novel, Every Rose, was the perfect catalyst to launch her into the
world of publishing, effectively burrowing her way into the hearts and minds of
readers throughout the world. Everything I've Never Had was her
follow-up adult romance novel. Now, she has penned Used, a New
Adult Romance that she hopes sinks its teeth into you and doesn't let go.
Her
love of the English language prompted her to pursue a Master's degree in
English from Old Dominion University in Virginia, where she also minored in
snark and interpretive dance. She lives somewhere along the Mississippi Gulf
Coast with her adorable husband, two amazing sons, and two loveable dogs. When
she's not writing riveting stories, she likes to focus on her macramé art and her
scouring of eBay, where she buys locks of hair from her favorite rock stars,
most especially Bret Michaels and Dave Grohl.
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