Cigarettes for love

Chapter one

"Get out of my bed." He demanded, shoving the girl slightly off the edges she was holding on to. His enchanting blue eyes turned cold within a second. She looked at him in disbelief.
"But..?" She wasn't sure if she heard the correct thing.
"You heard me. Get out." He got up as he lit a cigarette into his mouth.
Both were naked. He had gotten what he wanted from her and now all he wanted was for her to leave. She had been hesitant towards giving him what he wanted but he knew the exact words to let her guard down. She wasnt the first one he had fooled with his magic of words.
"Leave!" He shouted as he looked into the eyes that formed tears now.
"How could you have done this? You're a terrible guy, Roy! Screw you!" She slipped on her clothes with a feeling of disgust. He smirked.
"Tell me something i don't know." Roy puffed out the smoke between his lips. She left with a dash and he laid on his bed. It still had her scent.
He ripped off the sheets and threw them into the laundry bag.
"Fucking clean this, now!" Roy shouted as a maid rushed towards what he dumped while he put his shirt back on.
It felt dirty. Disgusting. Unpleasant. There were so many words to describe what he felt but none to explain why he did what he did.
He glanced down to his hands. Filthy. They had ran up and down through bodies that remained uncountable. He was so used to this. Sex. What's worse is that he had done it so many times, he had an image of being a playboy.
Roy thought he did this because of neglect. Because his parents couldn't give him enough attention so he looked for it in every girl. He looked for a sense of love he never had.
Although it seemed as if Roy Erickson had everything; good looks, charming personality, great grades and money,none of that was ever good enough for him. He was broken he didn't realize it himself.
But he had a reason to not believe in love. Who would when you catch your father who promised your mom he loved, sleeping with a young girl. Who would believe in such profanity when you would look at your mothers tears caused by your father.
Who would believe in love?
He certainly didn't, and he never wanted to.
Until he met her.