I grab a beer out of the mini fridge while I wait to see if Danielle is coming up or not. I pop the cap off against the counter in my hotel room and then bring the cold liquid to my lips as I stare at the door.

I met Danielle three weeks ago. It was a lucky happenstance really. Well, lucky for me, not so lucky for her. I met her like I meet most of my targets—in a bar. She was with her fiancé, minding her own business, just having a drink at the bar, when he was called away for work. That was when I stepped in and gave her the attention that she was so desperate for.

That's all it took. One night of being nice to her, and I knew I could steal her from her fiancé. I knew it wouldn't take long. I probably could have had her that night if I really wanted. But that's not my game. Cheating isn't enough. Many a men take back fiancées or wives who have cheated on them. No, I don't entice the women so that they will cheat on their husbands. I hit on the women to steal them and make them mine—at least, until I get bored with them.

I'm not looking for anything long—term. I've never dated a woman for longer than a few weeks after claiming her as mine. Others, I get bored with much faster. I'm not really after the women. I'm after the chase that comes with stealing them away, and that satisfies the rush I used to get when I stole objects instead of people.

I don't know which makes me a worse person. Stealing things like cars, money, or jewelry. Or stealing women and their hearts. But, this way, at least I don't have to worry about going to jail.

I sit on the edge of the bed as I take another sip of my beer. I thought tonight was the night I would claim her. I thought tonight was the night I would steal her away. But, as every second passes, I become less sure of myself.

Maybe Danielle loves her fiancé, Wade, more than I thought she did.

I hear a soft knock on my door. Once, twice, and then a pause before the third knock. I grin before I down the rest of my beer and toss it into the trash can as I walk to the door. I open it and widen my eyes when I see Danielle standing outside my door, like I'm surprised that she is standing here even though I'm not the least bit surprised.

"What are you doing here, Danielle? Shouldn't you be in bed, dreaming about that fiancé you are going to marry tomorrow?" I ask.

I haven't stolen her yet. Not fully. I don't win until she's broken up with him, and I've had her in my bed.

Danielle wraps her arms across her chest, covering her cleavage that was sticking out from beneath her sparkly white dress that she wore to the rehearsal tonight.

I didn't have to do much to get Danielle here. At least, not tonight. All I did was show up at the rehearsal. I made an appearance in the background, and it was enough to convince Danielle that she might be making a huge mistake.

"I'm not getting married tomorrow," Danielle says.

"Oh," I say, my voice dripping with sadness that isn't the least bit real. "Would you like to come in?"

She nods, and I hold the door open for her. She walks over to the edge of my bed and sits down. I walk over to the mini fridge and pull two beers out. I open the caps on both and then hand one to her. She takes it, loosely holding it in her hand. She stares at it for a while, not able to look at me.

I keep my distance until she is ready to talk. Leaning against the counter next to the mini fridge, I sip on my beer.

"I broke up with Wade tonight," Danielle finally says.

"I gathered that. Why though?"

She looks up at me with puppy—dog eyes. "Because I don't love Wade anymore. I love you."

I look at her seriously and say, "I want you."

She hears I love you though. It's clear from the goofy smile and blushed cheeks.

But that's the one thing I won't ever do. I won't lie to these women. I can't help it if they hear what they want to hear.

I put my beer down and walk over to her until I'm standing between her legs. I take the beer out of her hand and place it on the counter. Her eyes follow me.

I push her back on the bed, and then I take the off the T—shirt I'm wearing… She bites her lip as she stares at my abs that have formed from surfing every day.

"Tell me you want me to fuck you," I say.

Danielle sits up and unzips the back of her dress, letting it fall to her waist, revealing her white lacy bra that holds her perky breasts in, away from me.

"Fuck me, Asher."

I grin as I grab ahold of her dress and roughly pull it off her body. She lets out a gasp.

She grabs at my neck, trying to pull me in so that she can kiss me. I let her pull me into her. I let her kiss me, and then I turn the kiss into rough kisses that show her what I really want.

"You like it rough," she says.

"Don't you?" I ask.

"I like anything with you."

I flip her over on the bed, and she lets out another surprised gasp.

I slap her ass. "I'm going to fuck this later, but first, I have to claim your pussy."

"God, just fuck me already. I can't wait," she cries into the pillow that she is now face down on.

I sigh. "They never have patience," I mutter to myself, annoyed that I can't take my time to properly enjoy her body.

"What?" she asks.

"Nothing," I say, hitting her hard on the ass, causing her to cry out.

I shove my shorts and briefs down and pull out a condom from the nightstand. I quickly slip it on before she finds a way to get herself off without me.

"Ready?" I ask, pulling her panties down and positioning myself at her entrance.

"Just fuck me already."

I do. I push inside her tight pussy that I know is anything but ready for me. I've barely spent any time turning her on, but if this is what she wants, I won't object.

She moans loudly and then quickly starts screaming, "Yes…yes," over and over.

I keep thrusting until I come, not concerned at all if she comes or not. I'm an asshole after all. Although most have called me worse than that.

She must have come because she screams loudly, followed by nothing.

I pull out of her and go to the bathroom to clean myself off. When I'm done, I stay in the bathroom with my hands clenching either side of the sink as I look at myself in the mirror. I can't handle this woman much longer. It was hard enough to pretend to like her to get her to want me, but now that I've had her once, I don't think I can keep up the act to fuck her more than that. I'm ready for the implosion to happen.

I walk back out and dig through my suitcase to find a fresh pair of briefs to put on. After I do, I glance over at Danielle, who is now under the covers of the bed. Her cheeks are flushed, her brown eyes heavy, and her long brown hair is a mess on top of her head.

"That was amazing," she says.

I nod and force my lips to curl up into something that resembles a smile.

"I'm ready to go again if you are. Or if you want to sleep some first…"

I take a deep breath, ready to tell her that I'm through with her, that she can't stay here, when I hear a loud pounding at my door.

I hold up a finger and then walk to the door in just my briefs, not caring who is on the other side. I throw the door open, and before I can register who is standing there, a fist flies at my face and hits me square in the nose. My body jolts backward with the hit, and I put my hands up to my nose as another hit rains down on my face, followed by another. My nose is pouring blood now, and I'm sure it's broken. My eyesight is blurry, but I think I make Wade out through the haze. Or, at least, my prior experiences with ex—fiancés verify that he is most likely on the other end of the fist that keeps coming at my face.

"Wade, stop!" Danielle screams, running to my aide.

I hear Wade breathing heavily.

"I'm done. I'm done with both of you. You're a rotten scumbag who deserves to be locked up in prison. And you're a lying, cheating slut. I'm done with both of you."

The blurriness finally leaves my eyes long enough for me to see Wade stumbling out of my room, clearly drunk. It's a wonder he was even able to aim for my face. The door slams shut, and then I see Danielle standing naked in front of me.

"I'm sorry about Wade. He's just upset that I broke off the wedding, that I no longer love him. He'll get over it."

I walk into the bathroom without saying a word and see that I was right about my nose. It's most definitely broken as blood pours down my face. I grab one of the towels and hold it up to my nose to try and stop the bleeding, but I know it is going to take a while to stop.

"Here," Danielle says, holding up a bag of ice.

I take the bag from her and hold it up to my face.

"It stings," I say, wanting to pull it away from my face.

She laughs. "It will help with the swelling and stop the bleeding."

I keep it on my face and walk back to the bedroom. Danielle follows me.

"I think you should go," I say.

"What? Why?"

"I don't want to worry about Wade coming back and beating me up."

"He won't."

"And I don't think you and I are going to work out. You're not worth my trouble."

Danielle's jaw drops. "I broke up with Wade for you though. I called off my wedding tomorrow for you. I want to be with you. I'll do whatever it takes."

"You made a mistake then. You should have stayed with Wade, or you should find someone else. I'm not the man for you, Danielle."

"He's not going to take me back now," she says, her voice shaking.

I smirk. "No, I don't think he will take you back."

"You fucking bastard! You asshole!" Danielle shouts, raising her hand to no doubt slap or punch me.

At least, this time, I'm ready for the attack. I grab her wrist midair, stopping her from hitting me.

"You are an evil, vile person," she says through tears.

I nod. "I am."

She jerks her hand out of my grasp. "Why would you do this?"

I open my mouth to speak, and she holds a hand up to stop me.

"Never mind. I don't want to know. I don't want to spend another second listening to this crap." She grabs her crumpled dress from the floor and quickly puts it back on, not bothering with her underwear. She cries the whole time.

Occasionally, the women recover after this. They are able to convince their fiancés to take them back. But I don't think Danielle will. And I'm not sure she is strong enough to fully recover from it either.

She hesitates a second, like she is trying to decide if she should say anything or if I'm going to. When I don't, she storms out the door without another word.

I take a deep breath as I go over to the bed and lie down, ensuring the ice pack is still on my face.

Shit, I curse to myself when the ice stings my face again.

If I'm going to keep this up, I need to be better prepared. I can't keep getting hit like this. Next time, I might get a concussion, and then I won't be able to surf. I won't let that happen. Next time, I'll be ready for a hit.

Maybe I should take some boxing classes or something.

I grin. Despite the pain I'm feeling now, I'll sleep like a baby for the first time in weeks. I stole her heart and then tore it to pieces. It feels good.