What bothered Clint the most was that she had such low expectations that anyone could live up to them. Even him. And he bloody well felt that she deserved so much more and it just bothered the fuck out of him that she expected him to go out and fuck other women when he didn't even expect that out of himself. Rubbing his temples, feeling weary and tired, he gave her a small smile. What was he supposed to do? She was pretty much giving him a free pass and he hated that part of him wanted to take it. Maybe he'd just be discreet... if he got the urge or something. Though, it was fairly hard for him to be discreet. Course, whatever woman he went out with, the papers automatically assumed he was fucking... so?
"Well," he said, taking a bite of his dinner, enjoying the taste. "I guess we'll just see what happens." He looked at her, amused. "So, you're horny ninety percent of the time, huh?" That, for some reason, amused the fuck out of him and turned him on to no end. He definitely wouldn't mind helping her out with that little problem. He was fucking so godamned horny. It'd been like... holy fuck. A month or some shit since he'd gotten laid. Christ. No wonder he was in such a foul fucking mood.