Opening the camera app, I raised my phone to the mirror, watching the live screen, and then snapped a shot. It looked nothing like how I felt. The angle was weird and unflattering. I took several more, all with the same result. Every angle seemed wrong, unnatural. My lips were somehow unconsciously pouty, but not in an attractive way, not in my eyes anyway. I lost track of time in my attempt to get the dream photo. It never came.
I settled on cutting off my head and legs and focusing on my breasts. They were what really shined in the lingerie anyway, and that way it would be more of a teaser, or so I reasoned. I reunited with Danielle in the “pink” section of the store.
“I take it the top fit?”
“What do you mean?”
“You were in there for like twenty minutes,” she said, checking her phone. “Everything work out?”
“Yeah, it all fit,” I replied, following her as she headed for the checkout line. “Well, I didn’t try on the thigh-highs. I’ll just buy them.”
“Did you get a good pic?”
“I think so. It’s just of my boobs.”
“A sneak peek.”
“Right.”
She laughed. “Did you send it?”
“Not yet,” I answered, stepping into the short line.
“Ooh, you have to let me help you write the caption.” She nearly tossed her bag as she threw up her arms in excitement. “I’m pretty good at writing dirty notes.”
“I can imagine,” I said, walking up to the counter and laying the outfit down. Swiping my card, we were in and out in a flash, Danielle using all her coupons on a full bag of underwear. “Migration isn’t far, you want to go there for dinner?” I asked, climbing into the Crosstrek.
“Only if you say I can help write the message,” she negotiated.
I put on my “really?” face and stared at her. Why did she want to be so involved? I contemplated for a moment. “Deal. But nothing too gross. I don’t want him to think I’m a perv.”
“Or do you?” she joked. “Okay, okay, relax,” she added when I glared over at her. “Let’s see, nothing too obscene, eh? Hmm . . . Maybe write, ‘Turn you on?’ below the pic.”
“That’s it,” I said, grinning with surprise. “I thought you said you were good at this.” I laughed, digging out my phone and opening up the pictures. I had saved a few but only planned on using the one close-up shot.
“Hey, I’m just warming up, all right? It’s a process.”
“How about ‘Making you hard yet?’” I wrote out the caption to see how well it went.
“Speaking of his hard-ons, how big was it?” Danielle asked, a bit more curious than I would have thought. “I guess it wasn’t that impressive, since, well . . .”
“God, Danielle, can’t leave anything to the imagination with you.” I shook my head. “What if we end up seriously dating? I don’t want you blabbing to the entire world about his dong.”
“You mean cock,” she said with a wry smile.
“Do I?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll get it out of you one of these days.”
“You keep telling yourself that,” I said, erasing the stupid line from the phone.
“Does that mean you’re not going to tell me?” She made a sad-puppy-dog face with her huge brown eyes.
“When has that face ever worked on me?” I asked, pushing her face away as she leaned over.
“When has it ever not worked?”
“Are you trying to kill us?” I screamed.
She corrected the car, which had swayed over the white line. “Four inches? Five? Six? Seven? Eight? Was it one of those monster dicks—is that why you didn’t like it?”
“I’m pretty sure I said the opposite of not liking it,” I countered. “I just didn’t have an orgasm. Now, can we get back to the message?”
“Sure, I’ll find out eventually,” she said, confident. “Why don’t you just say ‘I’m wet.’ It’s short, simple, and it will definitely turn him on.”
I wrote it in. “It’s a little dirtier than what I was thinking, but I like it.” My finger paused over the send key. “You really think this is a good idea?” I asked, having last-minute doubts.
“Would you just send it already?” she shouted, pulling headfirst into a spot on Glisan.
“Okay, okay.” I hit the button. “Sent.”
“Great, now let’s get something to eat before I die.” She practically ran into the building, leaving me far behind.
THE REST OF THE night she pestered me for his length, which I never gave up despite her relentlessness. I had checked my phone every five seconds, looking for a reply, but one never came, and when I finally crashed for the night, worry plagued my mind. What did his silence mean? I conjured up a million answers. Maybe he was really a playboy out on another date, having sex with another woman, duping me just like every other man I’d met. I hoped the reality was that his phone had died and he hadn’t seen the text yet. It was about the only answer that didn’t twist my stomach.
The first thing I did when I woke the next morning was check my texts, ignoring the alarm. I sighed when I saw there weren’t any new ones. What was he trying to do to me? The silence was as torturous as a rejection, if not worse. A small depression set in, the lack of acknowledgement eating at my nerves.
The work day drifted by, agonizingly so. I locked my phone in my desk, too obsessed with it. My irrational compulsion was out of control. At 2:45, well past two hours since last I’d checked, I unlocked everything. My inbox was still shy one new message. I just about ripped out my hair at that point.
I debated about making the trip to the gym for a good twenty minutes, finally deciding just to go and get it over with. No use wasting the membership. Nearly swooning, I struggled up the stairs when I spotted Vince working out on the second floor. Another debate emerged on whether to confront or ignore him. My boiling blood chose the former.
“What the hell?” I spat, speed walking up to him.
He was sitting on one of the benches at an angle, pushing weights into the air. Terrance was beside him, leading Vince in the same exercise. Vince glanced over and rested the weights on the floor. “Maci,” he said, standing up.
“You’ve got some ego,” I growled, poking his chest.
Terrance was rushing to his aid a breath later. Vince waved him off. “Ego?”
I poked him again. “Yeah, ego. I send you a picture like that and you don’t even have the courtesy to respond.”
“I’m sorry. I’m in the process of updating my phone to some special prototype from a company I’ve invested in. They’re using one of our lithium-air batteries.” He stepped back to avoid another jab. “I haven’t had access to my phone since yesterday morning.”
“Since yesterday morning?”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “I’ve only been able to check my emails.”
“Oh.” My voice broke. “No texts?”
“No texts, honest.” He stared at me in confusion. “Was this about tonight? Because I was planning on calling you after my workout.”
“Um—kinda.” I hesitated to say more with so many people around. “I, uh, sent you a text and was anxious for a reply.”
He laughed. “I can see that.”
“It had a certain type of pic attached to it,” I said, hoping he’d get the hint. By his puzzled expression it was clear he didn’t. “When will you get your phone back?”
He turned to his bodyguard. “Terrance, when will my phone be ready?”
“I picked it up before I met you here, sir,” he replied. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything. It slipped my mind. It’s in the trunk on my motorcycle. Would you like me to retrieve it?”
“NO!” I screamed. They both looked at me, alarmed. “You—you should get it first,” I said, almost whispering, overcompensating for the outburst.
“I see. Terrance, your keys please.” He held out his hand, waiting.
“Sir?” The bodyguard’s voice was deep and scratchy.
“I’d like
to get the phone myself.”
“Sure.” He dug a set of keys out of his pocket and handed them to Vince.
“Would you like to come with me?” Vince asked.
I considered the offer. Would it detract from the sexiness of the selfie if he opened the pic in front of me? It really seemed like it would. “No,” I declined. “Why don’t you just text me later about tonight? I think I’m going to go out for a run.”
He was definitely baffled by my behavior. “Can I walk you to the door?”
I nodded. The short trip to the main exit was a bit uncomfortable, but also relieving that it hadn’t been one of those brutal outcomes my mind had concocted. He kissed me shyly on the cheek and waved as I walked down the sidewalk back to Friends.
My phone vibrated halfway home. I opened the text and my eyes nearly popped out of my head in surprise. He had sent a picture of the tip of his penis with the caption “Takeout, my place, 7?” He clearly was even worse at this than I was. I replied with a simple smiley face.
I WORE A PAIR of loose jeans over the thigh-highs, and covered the rest of the lingerie with a sweater and a coat. When I stripped off the outer clothing, I wanted the outcome to go smoother than the selfie had. Parking Eddie in the Envoy’s gated parking lot, I zoomed up the elevator, and then took a breath before I knocked on the mirrored door.
Vince opened it in a flash, as though his hand had been resting on the door handle. “Hey, come in.” He waved me inside. “Can I take your coat?”
I slipped out of it. “Thanks.”
He hung it in the closet around the corner. “I was thinking we’d order from Henry’s, so that you could get your mac and cheese leftovers. I can have Terrance pick it up.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Your bodyguard does errands for you?”
“If I ask him nice enough and slip him a hundred.” He smiled, hoping to get a laugh in return.
I gave him a quick, sharp laugh out my nose. “Right.”
“Not funny?”
“Not really,” I said. “Can we order an appetizer?”
“Like the buffalo wings?” he asked, directing me through the kitchen to a tablet that lay on a fancy walnut table. “I browsed the menu a bit. The Gorgonzola fries also sound great.”
“They both sound really good.” I played with the fringe of my sweater. “Um, I don’t know. You decide.”
He raised his arms with his wrists flipped back. “How about both?”
“You talk with your hands a lot,” I observed.
He shrugged. “Is it distracting?”
“No, I do the same thing.”
“Sounds like we’re made for each other,” he laughed. “So both?”
I nodded. “And the mac and cheese for me.”
He picked up his new phone, which didn’t look too out of the ordinary, and placed the order. “Hold on, I’ll send Terrance now.” He called his bodyguard and asked in a polite voice for him to pick it up.
“So that’s your new phone?” I asked after he hung up with Terrance.
He smiled. “I really enjoyed the picture.”
Gazing at that smile, I couldn’t hold back the urge to kiss him, so I threw my arms around his neck and stood up on my tiptoes, our lips fusing. A rush of energy flooded my body, my heart leaping. Without a word, I took his hand and led him to the bedroom, pushing him onto the mattress. “Close your eyes.” He did as instructed, and I undressed as quickly as I could without falling over, using the pole of his four-post bed for balance. I cursed my clumsiness before I said, “Okay, open them.”
His eyes grew when he did. “Wow. Is this—”
“Uh-huh,” I finished for him. “The rest of it.”
He grabbed me by the hips and pulled me to him, my cleavage in his face. He inhaled a huge whiff. “Did I mention that I like it?”
I wrapped my arms around his head and suffocated him in my breasts. I gasped at how alive I felt when he peeled back the cup and took my nipple in his mouth, his tongue swirling around it, the suction growing as my nipple stiffened. I pushed him back, afraid he’d run out of breath, and he gulped down air, freed from some spell of compulsion.
He ripped off his shirt in a hurry, quickly pulling down his pants and boxers, his erection springing up. I gawked at his bush for a second, amazed and disgusted by its length, but shoved the thought aside as he slid off my panties. I coursed my fingers through his hair and down his neck and watched him shiver. His fingers briefly caressed my v-spot while he kissed me hard. He pulled back and eased me to the bed, his breaths ragged in my ear, laying me flat. He stood, and with the head of his erection, massaged my clit in gentle, erotic circles. Fire coursed through my body, my blood rushing, singing, dancing—alive. So alive. He reached over to the nightstand, and I grasped his hand, preventing him from claiming the condom. “I have an IUD,” I rasped. “And I’m clean. You?”
“Clean,” he said with assurance, and the trust in his eyes made me believe those words.
“You don’t need it then.”
He smiled at me. Then, without warning, he grabbed my legs near my hips and plunged inside. I groaned from the pain and pleasure, the filling sensation swooping in, stretching, engulfing. And the feel of his skin inside me seemed to make it all the more intense.
His breath hitched as he looked down at me, his eyes distant, as though he were somewhere else.
I forgave it, the feeling of something building inside of me back, growing, tensing, about to explode. I closed my eyes, my body shaking as he thrust, harder and harder, like a wild jackhammer pounding. The pulse in my throat increased, and I could feel it thumping, my adrenaline surging. The feeling continued to escalate, his thrusts now wild, savage, and I knew at any moment my body would erupt in ecstasy.
His rapid breaths climbed and climbed until he screamed, “AH!” A series of grunts followed, then he stopped deep, deep inside me, and I tried to keep going, but he pinned me down, rendering me immobile. He shuddered as his climax ended. I held still as he pulled out. His eyes returned to normal from the distant glaze they’d possessed, and he rolled over, catching his breath, lying on his back.
“You didn’t—” he managed to get out, fighting for breath. He waited a moment before he tried again. “You didn’t come.”
I turned over, lying on top of his chest, kissing below his neck, buying time as I thought of what to say. What would he want to hear? With all my other boyfriends I had lied and it had never gotten anywhere, so I decided with Vince to give honesty a chance. “No,” I said, my breaths already back to normal. “I never have, actually.”
“Never?” he said, his voice cracking in shock.
“It’s not from lack of trying,” I joked, but he didn’t find the comment amusing. “I guess I’m not wired to have them.” I could feel the sperm swimming their way down and out, so I excused myself and headed for the master bathroom. When I returned, he was sitting, his back propped up against the headboard with pillows buffering the thick wood.
He looked eager to continue from where we’d left off, but then decided against it when his phone rang. Terrance was at the door with our food. Vince dressed and sauntered to the entrance.
I dressed and made my way to the kitchen, electing neither to ask why he seemed so distant during the act, but also not wishing to continue with our previous topic. The mood was mellow and I didn’t want to ruin it with serious questions. Vince shut the door and unloaded the food on the giant table, spreading it out. “I’d like to do this again,” he said after wolfing down half a dozen Gorgonzola fries.
I hesitated, unsure if I should make a third attempt. I could hear Danielle in the back of my mind, money won’t buy you orgasms. On the other hand, I really liked spending time with him, more than with anyone before, including Ryan. “Tomorrow night?”
“I can’t. I have to work tomorrow night. Friday?”
“Sure, I can do Friday.” I scooped up a spoonful of mac and cheese, licking my lips for show.
The rest of the night went
as well as the last, though neither of us mentioned what happened in the bedroom. The conversation never paused until I said I had to go home. He frowned at that, puzzled.
“I’ll see you Friday?” he said, waiting at the elevator.
I smiled when the elevator dinged, its door withdrawing into darkness. “Friday,” I said, stepping inside. I hit the button for the ground floor and the doors slid closed, cutting off Vince’s wave.
And that ended another disappointingly orgasm-less night in the ongoing string of letdowns.
10
THE LIST
“Really? A third date?” Danielle stared at me from the kitchen, her hands on her hips in dismay. “After last night, you’re still willing to go for a third?” She returned to the stove top, out of view.
“I don’t know,” I said from the couch, gazing at the ceiling. Colby-Jack was lying on the couch’s arm above my head. “We connect so well in all other aspects, and it’s not like he’s the worst lover I’ve had . . . It just doesn’t make sense to call the relationship a failure and move on.”
She popped her head into view. “That’s exactly what you need to do. You’ll find someone else out there who you’ll connect with on all levels, not just most.”
“But what if I don’t?” My fear of spending a lifetime alone was giving me serious pause.
“You’re too beautiful to be single long,” she encouraged. “It might take twenty guys, but you’ll find what I’m talking about.”
“Twenty? I’m not a hooker, Danielle.” I sighed, looking at Colby-Jack, listening to his soft wheeze as he slept.
“Sleeping with twenty people doesn’t make you a hooker or a whore,” she said. “It makes you committed. If Vince doesn’t do it for you, then Vince doesn’t do it for you. You can’t change that. You gave him a chance and it didn’t work out. Plus you were overly concerned about him spending money on you. I mean, do you really see the relationship going somewhere?”
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