Just looking for a good time, the caption reads.
Me too, Marco. I take another step toward the snapshot, knowing it’s a revolving image, but as I step in front of the photo, Marco looks up, his tagged orange eyes growing wide with interest. I slowly inhale and release my balled-up fists, growing more confident the longer I stare into his eyes. A green box with a question mark appears, suspended in front of Marco’s solid chest.
Would you like to hook up? the same sultry voice whispers.
Wow, straight to the point. I bite my lower lip and my eyes wander hungrily over Marco’s biceps, down to his slim waist and his large hands. I don’t think I’ve ever been more eager to say yes. My fingers dip into the green color, little pixels fluttering around my wrist. Yes.
Have fun, the woman says.
Her words are like magic. As soon as the words leave her lips, the other snapshots dissolve into numerous shards, like broken puzzle pieces. Marco’s photo enlarges until he’s standing opposite me. Dark blue jeans hug his legs and his bare feet peek out from the tapered ends. I’m so busy staring at him that I miss a message flashing at the bottom of the screen. Finally I see the blinking image out of the corner of my eye and eagerly read the instructions.
Now it’s your turn. Take a five second re-vid. If the other party is interested, you’ll be invited to hook up. Oh God. I can’t just meet him and do it? Crap, I don’t know what to do. I deliberate for a second, using my left eye to scan my “casual” wardrobe that Sarah made fun of earlier. My black shirt is breezy and loose. Hopefully he’s a fan of teenage wizards. I run a hand along the top of my head, ripping the hair tie out, causing the messy bun to spill across my shoulders. I comb my fingers through the wavy brown mass, praying that it looks wild and sexy rather than unruly and tangled.
I reach out and activate the video. Instantly a large number ten appears, counting down the seconds to my awkward attempt to play the part of a desirable vixen. With only a few seconds left, I hastily shed my jeans, grateful I put on a pair of black lace boy shorts this morning. A moment later, the border of my screen glows red, signaling it’s ready to record. Unsure what to do, I rise onto my knees and bite my lower lip, grabbing the edge of my shirt. I pull it down gently, exposing one of my freckle-covered shoulders. I look down and then peek up at Marco from beneath my lashes, trying to mimic all those characters I’ve read about in romance novels. It always worked for them, their beautiful stares stopping men in their tracks.
The borders fade, losing the bright red tint and I exhale, fluffing my wild hair. I’m not sure what to expect next. The revolving image of Marco continues and Hot Love alerts me that my re-vid has been sent. Great, now all I have to do is wait and see if he rejects me. I collapse back onto my disheveled covers and close my eyes. This was the worst idea ever.
A cheerful ping makes my eyes flash open and a surge of adrenaline courses through my body. I bet he said no. Why would he say yes? I don’t have boobs popping through the screen, my thoughts ramble as I steel myself for a giant X. It’s only been a minute since I sent the video, but it feels much longer. The soft black and red walls wrap around me once again, but this time Marco’s snapshot is gone.
Disappointment floods my mind and I feel an extra wave of endorphins rocket through my brain as the Vertix tries to compensate for my drastic dip in mood. I spin around, eager to leave Hot Love when a deep, rich voice echoes behind me.
“Maggie?” the voice whispers.
My eyes flicker around the room, searching for the speaker. I was so focused on finding the response that I missed the man standing on the side of the room. It’s Marco, looking even better in person, or virtual reality, than his picture.
“Yeah,” I say shyly, taking a step closer to him.
“Hi, I’m Marco,” he says, holding out his hand.
“I thought you had passed on me,” I admit, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear as I slip my hand into his. My eyes widen in surprise when he touches me. For some reason, I thought he wouldn’t be able to, this being all in my head. On the contrary, Marco feels very real, very warm, and I’m suddenly very conscious of how close we are.
Marco shakes his head back and forth. “No way. I hit accept so fast, I think I crashed the app for a second,” he says. His voice is deep, husky, and I like that he laughs easily too. He’s not trying too hard. He still hasn’t let go of my hand yet. “By the way…love the pants.”
I furrow my brow and look down, expecting to see my jeans. Instead, my pale legs and the thin black lace of my panties poke out from underneath my long shirt. “Oh God, I forgot.” I blush, hunching over a little to try and cover my near nakedness. Why bother, you came here to hook up with him. Chances are he’s going to see you naked. Now stand up straight and try to be sexy.
Following orders, I straighten up and inhale, closing the remaining distance between Marco and me. With more confidence than I would ever have in real life, I wrap my arms around his neck, my fingers trailing over his hairline. Spiky, just like I thought. Pushing myself onto my tiptoes, I rub my nose along his jaw and nudge his earlobe. “Do you want to see what else I’ve got?” I whisper, suddenly brandishing my inner sex goddess. This is virtual reality, an escape. I don’t have to play meek little book agent. No, I have something better in mind.
Marco’s wide hands circle my waist, crushing my hips into his. His small smile sends my groin fluttering. He’s already hard. Marco groans against my neck. “More than you know. Come on, let’s get out of the front room. I want to take you somewhere private,” he whispers, a devilish glint in his eyes. The double entendre isn’t lost on me.
He takes me by the hand, guiding my palm down to the front of his dark jeans. I can feel the warmth pressing through the fabric and a thrill of excitement catches me off guard. This is going to be more fun than I thought.
Marco takes a step back, keeping hold of my hand and pulls me toward a door I didn’t see before. He must frequent Hot Love quite often. I can’t be the first girl he’s met here.
“You can decide,” Marco says. “Where have you always imagined making love?” He steps behind me, running his warm fingers from the curve of my neck, down the length of my back, to end just above my panties. His fingers don’t stop there, slipping inside the fabric to graze the top of my ass. God, this guy is good. It takes everything in me not to moan under his touch.
I try to focus, try to answer his question, but his fingers are hypnotizing. I bite my bottom lip, afraid that my choice might be too bland. Frantically I try thinking outside the box while Marco pulls my hair to the side to expose my neck. Then, ever so softly, he leans in and begins kissing me, nibbling my skin with gentle bites. A warm flush reddens me from head to toe and I arch my body into his involuntarily.
I picture a hot vampire seducing his prey and blurt out a destination. “Take me in a tower, high above the world,” I say, swallowing.
Marco chuckles in my ear. “Interesting, not what I thought you were going to say,” he whispers. His warm breath tickles my ear as he places another kiss on my neck. “Open the door and close your eyes. Imagine the tower and it’ll take us there.”
“Okay,” I whisper, turning in his arms to plant a lingering kiss on his soft lips. My hands snake in front of me, working on separating the button and zipper from his jeans.
“Oh, so eager,” Marco says against my lips, kissing me back. “I like that.” He reaches behind me and twists the doorknob, walking us across the threshold, his lips never leaving mine.
I feel a cool breeze welcome us into the room, but that’s the only thing I notice about our new surroundings. I’m too absorbed with Marco and the growing heat between us to worry about where we end up. We could be standing on a piece of cardboard in an alley for all I care. I hear the door click shut behind him and he lifts me onto a small table.
My legs wrap around Marco and I watch him strip out of his shirt and kick his jeans to a crumpled heap on the floor. I was right. His body is glorious.
 
; He grabs the edge of my t-shirt and pulls it swiftly over my head, his eyes staring at my body with appreciation. I arch my chest and he smiles at me, lust blazing in his green eyes. He growls low in his throat and pulls me toward him, melding his body, his lips, and his desire to mine. Our passion ignites in an instant explosion. I can’t get enough of him.
We don’t surface from one another’s bodies for hours, for days. I have lost track of any and all sense of time. When we finally collapse, exhausted, on the thick carpet, I feel an overwhelming sense of release, of peace. No stress or bothersome clients can reach me here. I’m in my own little bubble of ecstasy and it’s beyond wonderful.
At last Marco gets up, kissing me one last time. “That was great.” He grins, stepping into his jeans. “If you’re up for some more, let me know. I’m always available.”
I watch him go, remaining propped on my side on the Oriental rug. This is exactly what I needed. Carefree, worry-free sex with absolutely no strings attached. And I didn’t even have to leave my room. Thanks to the Vertix, my hypothalamus activated and filled my brain with sweet, sweet dopamine. All without the messy clean-up and awkward goodbyes real hookups often entail.
• • • • •
I take a long sip of my Earl Grey tea and set my paisley-patterned mug on the desk. We’re all gathered in the clear glass office, listening as she rattles on about the latest numbers. I wrap my hand around the bottom of my round mug, unable to keep the smug look off my face.
My fingers trace the swirling colors before me. I know I should be listening, especially when the newest trends concern my genre, but I can’t help it. All my mind wants to do is wander back to the handsome stranger I met in Hot Love last night.
“Margaret, what do you think?” Ms. Robins’ curt voice snaps me awake from my cozy daydream.
I panic as I try to recall anything Robins was talking about. All I can remember are the numbers she mentioned vaguely at the start of the meeting. “Umm,” I pause, turning my head to look at my co-workers, silently pleading for one of them to give me an out. Everyone stares at me, blankly waiting for me to respond, or more accurately, to blow it, so they can swoop in.
My gaze passes over Jeremy and he nods subtly. “Yes, I think we should go for it,” I reply confidently, swinging my gaze back to Robins.
She stares at me for a moment and I don’t miss the surprise on her face. “All right then. I’ll expect a report by the end of the week as well as a list of schools you plan on starting with. That’s all. Have a good day everyone,” she says dismissively.
I release the breath I was holding and bend down, sliding my pen back into my messenger bag. Robins doesn’t ask me to stay so I must have given the right answer. Thank you, Jeremy.
I am heading toward my cubicle when I see Jeremy walk over to the little kitchenette and I follow. I place my tea mug on the counter beside his coffee, my arm just a hairsbreadth away from his pale blue sleeve. I am discovering I like being bold.
Jeremy glances at me and grins. My gut twists uncomfortably as I watch his eyes light up, drinking me in. I push the guilt away. I like Jeremy, but we’re not dating and he did mention a friend a few weeks ago. As far as I know, he’s interested in a platonic friendship. I don’t need to feel guilty; I can sleep with whoever I want…as many times as I want. I blush, feeling the familiar flush of heat race down my body as my mind wanders blissfully back to last night once more.
“How are you doing this morning, daydreamer?” Jeremy asks, waking me from my carnal thoughts.
“I’m great,” I reply, genuine excitement in my voice.
Jeremy nods, ripping open a white sugar packet and pouring it into his black coffee. “Yeah, I believe that. You look fantastic, brighter somehow. You must have gotten a good night’s sleep.”
A giggle escapes my lips before I can stop it. “You can say that,” I agree, wandering over to the small muffin tray and selecting a mini chocolate chip one. Sleep was the farthest thing from my mind last night.
I had disconnected from the Vertix around two in the morning and instantly crashed. My sleep was short but restful, my exhausted mind and body sinking into a deep state of unconsciousness. I might pay for it later in the day, but it was so worth it. “Thanks for saving me in there. What exactly did I agree to?”
Jeremy scoffs, stirring his coffee with a little wooden stick. “Robins was debating whether or not we should start trying to market to local schools, build interest in the younger generation to read a wider variety than the usual cult followings surrounding the latest movie to hit the box office. She was looking for a volunteer to headline that project and you, little missy, are the lucky duck,” Jeremy says with a grin before taking a careful sip. His blue eyes never leave mine, staring at me over the lip of the cup.
“What? That’s a huge project. I don’t have time for that.” I groan.
Jeremy nods. “That’s exactly why no one was volunteering.”
“But you nodded! Why would you do that?” I gasp, astounded.
Jeremy shrugs and begins walking to his desk. “I thought it was a good idea,” he answers nonchalantly.
“Then why didn’t you do it?” I hiss, keeping pace with him.
“Like you said, that’s a big project. I don’t have time to go out to schools and organize assemblies,” he explains. “I’m working on a huge international book release.” We reach his cubicle and it takes everything in me not to knock the coffee out of his hand.
“Well thanks a lot,” I huff, spinning on my heels toward my desk.
“Anytime,” Jeremy calls after me. I grimace at the sarcasm in his voice.
Back in my cubicle I collapse into my chair, frustrated beyond words. I need to relax. I need an hour with Marco. Involuntarily my hand reaches up to graze the back of my neck, my fingers eagerly searching for the little device that isn’t there. A low growl sounds in my chest and my cubicle mate, Martin, pops up, his large eyes staring at me over the short gray wall.
“You okay, Maggie?” Martin asks, almost afraid of my answer.
I lean forward, holding my head in my hands. “No, yes…” I mumble. “Just dealing with a jerk.” I sigh.
Martin’s eyebrows arch. “A jerk? To you? Want me to beat him up?” He brandishes his hairy fists.
“Take a swing, buddy,” Jeremy says, appearing beside Martin. He tilts his chin upward, exposing his jaw to Martin’s tiny hands.
Martin’s eyes flicker uncertainly between Jeremy and myself, his bravado evaporating in face of a live opponent. “You’re fine, Martin,” I say, glaring in Jeremy’s direction. “What are you doing here? Did you sign me up for another soul-sucking activity?”
Jeremy doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest by my icy tone. He raises his hands in a form of surrender and showers me with his charm. “Oh come on, I came over to apologize.”
I wrinkle my nose and rotate in my chair, trying to embody the phrase cold shoulder.
Jeremy grabs the back of my chair and spins me back around to face him. I fight to keep the smile off my face, narrowing my eyes at him. I’m already starting to cool off. Jeremy is one of those people you can’t stay mad at for long.
He lowers his head and regards me earnestly, his arms braced on the armrests of the chair. I can smell his cologne, the scent of his toothpaste under the black coffee and it makes my head swim. Focus, Maggie, don’t let him off so easily.
“I’m sorry, I really am. How about I take you out to make it up to you?”
“Oh, so you throw me under the bus and then redeem yourself by asking me out?” I laugh, arching an eyebrow. “Interesting approach.” I try turning away but he holds my chair in place.
“Well, you bailed on me the other night so you kind of owe me,” he says, mocking hurt. “Come on, it’ll be fun. I know a great spot,” Jeremy insists, undaunted.
I sigh, really wanting to say yes, but part of me is still too perturbed to acquiesce. “Maybe another time, I have plans for lunch today,” I reply.
Out of the corner of my eye I see Martin’s mouth pop open into a small o of surprise, but Jeremy doesn’t flinch. “Who said I wanted to take you out to lunch?”
I eye him skeptically, battling the urge to kick him in the groin and my own curiosity. “What did you have in mind?”
Jeremy leans back, releasing the armrests while he clicks his tongue disapprovingly. “Oh, can’t tell you that. It would ruin the surprise.” He takes a step away.
“I really am busy for lunch,” I say, in case he’s holding that comment over me.
Jeremy nods. “I don’t doubt that. But like I said, I don’t want to take you out to lunch.”
“So when did you want to go out?” I ask, falling for the bait.
Jeremy winks and shakes his head again. “Nope, can’t tell, but I’ll let you know,” he promises vaguely. “Have a good day, Ms. Stone.” He throws up his hand and waves without looking back.
I stare after him, unsure which emotion to feel. Whatever, I have work to do. I twist in my chair to face my computer and drag the tips of my fingers along the dormant screen. Instantly it brightens with life.
“Wow,” Martin says with a whistle, still watching Jeremy. “I don’t know why you were mad at him, but that guy is smooth.”
“Thanks for the support, Martin.” I sigh and roll my eyes. “Don’t you have queries to answer?”
Martin laughs and leans over, his fatty elbows knocking the thin wall separating us. A small tremor rocks through the flimsy cubicle, shaking my calendar. “You need to relax, Maggie. Cut the guy a break. I think he likes you,” he says, bouncing his eyebrows at me.
“I don’t have time to relax, Martin. I have thirty new queries a day, I’m trying to get through this manuscript, and thanks to that—jerk face, I now have to design a marketing campaign for kids,” I groan.
Martin nods his head, acknowledging my stress. “Hmmm, well good luck with all of that.” I hear his chair squeak as he resumes his seat and my calendar rustles once more as his large stomach jostles our connected desks.
Wired Page 12