by Emily Bishop
“OK, fine. Since I value your friendship, I will leave that topic at the door and open another. Did you know that there are two options to reveal an image?”
I sit up and lean a little closer.
“What? Of course, there aren’t. If you ask the series of questions, the image is revealed. That’s how the app works. I would know.”
“You would know, but you’re wrong. That’s just a portion of the surprise. What really has to happen is that the couple has to spend a decent amount of time in conversation. Once that time limit is reached, the pictures are revealed. So, even if questions aren’t asked to speed things along, the image will clear after enough conversation in the chat box.”
“How did you figure this out? I don’t remember that being in the prototype.”
“By testing it out. I’ve been in contact with a few women and testing how the app works in a few different ways. Actually, I’m a little concerned that I might be having some inappropriate relations with married women in this office. We’ll find out. I believe one more conversation should reveal it, and then we can pretend that we put on an act for the sake of our work.”
“How convenient,” I say. Easy for him to say, when he hasn’t made a connection.
Angel might be the first person to ever bring out emotion in me, at all. How can I give that up, if she ends up being Sasha?
“It is, isn’t it?” Kieran says, flippant. “Well, now you know. If you and that woman you’re clearly not talking to speak for long enough, you’ll be revealed whether you reach your questions quota or not. Enough time simply has to pass, then register the next day.”
“We certainly know how to keep people in suspense, don’t we?” I say.
“That’s the job, isn’t it? Keep ‘em guessing, and they’ll keep coming back for more. We can start looking at in-app purchases next. Perhaps if a couple doesn’t want to wait, they can buy more image clarity, or if they do want to wait, they can buy more time. We can make it flexible.”
“Something to consider. I suppose I’m glad I made my way over here. You’ve given me something to work on.”
“Happy to help, as always. Is there anything else I can assist with? Perhaps a beach ball, for your trouble?”
I glance down at the pile of general disarray and shake my head. “I have no use for a beach ball in the middle of winter, but thanks anyway.”
“Your loss. They’re great in the snow.”
“I’m sure you and anyone under the age of twelve knows that very well.”
“Are you calling me a child, Bo? Me? Your best and only friend?”
“Yep. Thanks for the pep talk. I’ll catch you later.”
“Always a pleasure,” he calls out.
I’m out of his office and back down the hall to my own within the span of a minute. I open up the desktop on my computer and spend the rest of the afternoon looking into options to delay the reveal of an image. I have no interest in revealing sooner.
I can’t ruin what we’ve got going.
The sun sets beneath the skyscrapers around me until twilight casts a purplish glow over the city skyline. I glance up and realize that the office floor has gone dark. How long have I been working on this?
Probably a little too long.
I stand and stretch my sore back. The joints pop beneath my palms as I press against different areas of my body. I pack up my bag and lock my door. When I turn, I realize that the light in Sasha’s office is still on.
Maybe a little test is in order. Just to see.
I pop my head in. She’s donned a pair of black-rimmed glasses, and she’s typing away, completely lost in her work.
I want to bend her over that desk. So badly.
“Ahem,” I say. When she looks up, her eyes narrow.
She really doesn’t like me, does she?
“Mr. Knight. Shouldn’t you be getting home by now?”
“Yes. That’s why I’m walking out, with my bag, at the end of the day. Shouldn’t you have left a while ago yourself?”
“Yes, but I…” She hesitates then carries on. “I couldn’t stop digging through this glitch in the back-end. It appears that there’s instances when the picture reveal doesn’t work at all. The image goes black just before, so you can’t see who you’ve been talking to.”
“Is there anyone you’ve been talking to?” I ask.
I watch her expression carefully. She lifts a russet eyebrow at me and crosses her arms.
“The only way I’m using the app is to perform research, Mr. Knight. I wouldn’t use it for my own entertainment.”
Bullshit.
Or is it?
“Apologies for the implication. What I meant to say was, have you been able to practice with anyone yet, to get a good feel for the user experience?”
Her shoulders relax an inch. Her guard is still up, but I seem to have clarified myself enough not to offend her delicate sensibilities.
This woman cannot be Angel. She can’t. They’re like night and day. Except in the looks department. On that end, I can’t resist either one. Sasha crosses her leg over her knee and leans in a little, exposing the tiniest amount of cleavage.
Oh, to run my finger along that crevice.
“I’ve spoken to one or two people for a short period of time. Never long enough to reveal the image but long enough to get an idea of the user experience. I’ve got a series of notes I’m making for the text on the back-end that I might run by you, if that’s something you’d be willing to take a look at?”
“I take in all feedback. It’s important to make sure every experience is reported so that we have a full picture of what we’re offering.”
“Yes,” she agrees. Are those bedroom eyes? I can’t tell if she hates me or wants to fuck me. If it’s both, all the better.
Sometimes hate sex is the best kind.
I can tell she’s not going to budge on her answer. I step back out of her doorway and nod in her direction.
“Don’t party too late. We’ll all be ready to get back at it first thing in the morning.”
“I’ll work as long as it takes to get the job done, Mr. Knight.”
If she could say that in the bedroom, I’d be a goner.
I clear my throat. “Understood. Keep up the good work. You’re redeeming yourself, Ellis.”
“Goodnight, Mr. Knight.”
I don’t respond. Instead, I head out of the building, leaving Sasha Ellis and the possibility of her being the woman I’m falling for behind.
Couldn’t possibly be one and the same.
Chapter Thirteen
Sasha
The third yawn seals it.
I need to get home.
I glance at my phone, and my heart sinks when I see that I still haven’t heard back from Master. Did I turn him off by talking about my boss negatively? I know he runs his own company. Is he sensitive to the fact that I would complain about someone in a position similar to him?
Did I offend him in some way?
My mind races through every terrible possibility as I pack up my bag and shut down my computer. The office is a tomb. I walk out into the dark corridor, and my thoughts go just as black.
What if I’ve turned him off forever? I was too negative. I was too needy. Maybe he simply got tired of talking to me.
Maybe he found someone else.
I wrap my coat a little tighter around my body as I step onto the sidewalk. A fluttering of snowflakes dances around me as I robotically make my way to the train and take my seat. It’s less crowded at this time of day, but I barely notice.
I want to cry.
I have never in my life been this needy girl. What the hell is wrong with me now? There is no point in getting worked up when a man leaves a conversation for a while. I’m being irrational.
Because I’m falling for Master. Hard.
The realization dawns on me bright and clear. He might as well have taken my virginity, because I’m his, I realize.
And I’ve never even seen h
is freaking face.
I inhale and hold the breath in my lungs until it hurts before I release it. I’ve let myself get far too carried away with this guy, with this app, with this job. Maybe I would be better off going back to Pennsylvania and settling for one of the mediocre men in my old town.
If they haven’t all been married off already.
I shiver as my train reaches my stop, and I enter the street again. My pace is fast as I bolt to my apartment building and charge inside. When I open my door, I am truly and completely exhausted.
Ding.
Did I say I was exhausted? Because I think I might be able to run a marathon.
I plop onto my couch and pull out my phone. I’m a little scared to see what he has to say, but I can’t wait to read another sentence from him.
Master is the best novel I’ve ever read.
“Sorry I had to bolt out. Something came up that required my immediate attention.”
I’m annoyed at the powerful rush of relief that courses through me at this statement. Annoyed because I’m falling so hard for this stranger, this idea of a man. Annoyed because I spent the better part of the day freaking out over the fact that he wasn’t responsive.
That’s not the kind of woman I want to be. I need to play it cool. I tap open the app and type in my response.
“No worries. I was quite busy myself.”
“Yeah? Working a late night at the office?”
I hesitate. I don’t want him to think I’m a workaholic. I also don’t want to lie to him, either.
“Something like that,” I hedge. “How did your day go?”
“Good. Would have been better spent chatting with you, though. I missed you.”
Be still my beating heart!
“I missed you, too.”
“I believe you were going to set up a series of things you wanted me to do to you, before we got so rudely interrupted by our lives.”
I chuckle.
“Yes, I believe I was. Trouble is, I didn’t have time to think of anything.”
At least, not anything substantial. Thanks to Mister Knight. Ugh.
What a douchebag.
“Well,” he replies. “Now’s as good a time as any to use our imaginations, don’t you think?”
My body tingles at his implication, and I snuggle in a little deeper, prepared for another amazing physical experience. For a man who has never touched my body, he has absolutely captured my soul.
“Yes, I do,” I reply.
“So, did you get any time to think of how you would like me to touch you?”
I purse my lips and ponder that question. If I could have Master do anything with me, what would I have him do?
“What if we made love on a tropical island? Since this is sexting, we can use our imaginations a bit, no?”
“Very nice, and a warm climate will be just the thing in this chilly weather. What are you wearing?”
I glance down at my slightly crumpled work outfit. My skirt is askew, my jacket still fastened over my blouse and matching blazer.
“A bikini,” I type, and send the message.
“What color?” he asks.
“Black.”
“Very sexy. Now tell me, where are we in this tropical paradise?”
I close my eyes and allow my imagination to take over. I can feel my body relaxing as I picture myself in a small cabana by teal waters and a white, sandy beach. When I open my eyes, I’m ready to begin.
“We’re in a small thatched hut on the beach. Inside there is a spacious, comfortable bed. We’re all alone except for the ocean before us, the waves lapping at the shore the only sound. White gossamer curtains float on the light breeze.”
“Very creative. You’ve set the scene quite well. Now, what am I wearing?”
“Swim trunks. White.”
“Are we wet?”
“I’m always wet when I’m talking to you,” I say.
“Bravo. You’re getting better at this every day.”
“You’re a great teacher,” I reply.
“Now you teach. Tell me what I’m to do to you, and I’ll do it.”
“I want you to lick me. All over my body, then I want you inside me, nice and deep.”
“Happy to oblige. I slide my hand around your neck and tug at the knot of your bikini. It comes apart in my hand and tumbles down, exposing your breasts.”
My body is too warm. I set the phone down and strip out of my jacket, then my work clothes, until I’m wearing nothing but my underwear. Then I slide that off, too. No need to waste time, here. When I look back at the phone, I see that there’s more.
“I untie the back, then allow my fingers to slide down until they reach your breasts. I play with them, pinch your nipples to get them nice and hard. I dip my head and take one in my mouth. I’m sucking your nipple while you moan in ecstasy. I want you moaning, Angel. Loud.”
I do as he says, releasing a moan as my own fingertips reach my breasts and mimic what he says. They grow instantly hard, just as he describes. I glance down as he continues.
“I work my tongue down your belly to your swimsuit bottoms, and I grab them in my teeth before I slide them all the way down. Your pussy looks beautiful in the light of the moon over the ocean, Angel.”
I can see him staring at my naked body with hunger in his eyes. I pinch my nipple a little harder and moan again.
“I lay you back on that nice, plush mattress and spread your legs wide, exposing all of you to me. I run my tongue up from your ankle to your knee, to your thigh. I’m getting closer, Angel. I can feel your heat, your moisture. So close. So delicious. I slide my tongue between your legs and lick right down the middle.”
My hand drops from my nipple to my slit, and I run it up and down my slick length.
“Yes. That’s wonderful,” I say. I tilt my head back and stroke myself a few more times before I look back at the phone for my next prompt.
“I delve my tongue inside you. I want you to fuck my tongue, Angel. I want you to ride it while I lick every inch of you. Are you riding?”
I slide a fingertip inside, not too deep, just about as far as I imagine a tongue would go. Then I beckon to myself, trying out a motion a tongue would make. If this continues, I’m really going to need to look into getting a tongue sex toy.
“Yes,” I say after I enjoy the sensation for a minute.
“It’s time for me to fuck you, Angel. But I’m not going to do it in here. I lift you into my arms and carry you out to the warm waters. Together, we sink into the ocean, and I drop my swimsuit bottoms in the sea. I wrap your legs around my waist. Can you feel my cock pressing against your pussy?”
“Oh yes,” I say, in a text and out loud. I slide my whole finger in this time, and I rock my hips back and forth as I finger fuck myself.
“I’m going to fuck you until you come, Angel. I fill you to the brink with my dick as the waters lap around us, and I thrust inside you. Tell me. Tell me what it feels like to have me inside you.”
“It feels like heaven,” I say.
I take a second finger and add it to the first, so that I can spread myself as though Master’s dick is inside my body, penetrating me, filling me. I slide my fingers in and out.
“Fuck harder, Angel. Come for me. Come for me now.”
I increase my pace and spread my legs wider as my thighs shake in anticipation. I cry out into my apartment as an orgasm pulses around my wet fingers, and I cling to my pussy as I ride it out.
My breath is gusty as I come back to reality. I pick up my phone.
“That was outstanding.”
“You came?”
“Yes.”
“Good girl. It’s getting late. Why don’t you get some sleep?”
“You sure you don’t want me to imagine a nice scenario for you?” I ask.
“No. Tonight you get the pleasure. Believe me, it gave me what I needed, too.”
“I’ll dream about you tonight,” I say.
“I certainly hope so. Goodnig
ht, my Angel.”
Butterflies erupt in my belly. I love how he calls me his angel.
I might just love him, period.
I type out my goodnight. I’m too tired to do anything but slide into bed, so I pull my covers up over my naked body, my phone still in hand. I wonder if Master will have anything else to say tonight. With this being my only connection to him, I can only hold my phone close, and imagine I’m in his arms.
My eyes are closed when my phone buzzes in my hand. I crack open an eyelid and look at the clock. It’s the middle of the night.
Why is my phone buzzing?
I open my app and focus my gaze on the text. It’s not from Master. It’s from the app platform.
“Congratulations! You have chatted long enough to reveal images. Good luck in the next phase of your relationship!”
Wait, what?
I open my eyes wide and click the Next key. There’s a whole little show of a curtain pulling away from the image before a crystal clear picture of Master is revealed.
Booker Knight.
Oh god. I’m dead.
I stare at the image in complete disbelief. There is no way that Master and Booker are the same man. Booker Knight has no soul! Also, he’s my boss. Oh my god I’ve been sexting with my boss. The same man I told lies to about my activity on here in the first place.
I pull a pillow over my head and cry.
Chapter Fourteen
Booker
I think hearts might be a little over the top.
I glance at the clock and realize I’ve been working for hours into the night on this marketing platform. It’s nothing new and different, really. I like working at night. Oftentimes, it’s when I get my best stuff done.
Not like I could sleep after my little session with Angel, anyway.
Oh, Angel. What a delectable creature. I can just imagine what she looked like, legs spread as she toyed with herself, pleasing herself at my direction. There is so much to be said for sexting, but I wonder what she would be like in real life. I wonder what her skin would feel like. How she would taste.
I turn my attention back to my laptop screen and shift an image around of the Cupid’s Bow logo. What’s a good catchphrase here?