Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 34800 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 174(@200wpm)___ 139(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34800 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 174(@200wpm)___ 139(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
Ten points for self-awareness?
I still felt bad, though. And I hadn’t been entirely fair.
“It’s true in a way,” I replied carefully. “I don’t know you well enough to form a real opinion—outside kink events anyway. So yeah, I see the finance guy who becomes a bit stiff when the party’s over.”
He sighed. “Because I never know what to say. That time I asked you out for coffee, it didn’t go very well.”
I winced. He was right, but that wasn’t all on him. I’d been so awkward. In the light of day, I’d hesitated, and I hadn’t believed we’d have much in common outside the communities we sometimes stumbled upon each other in.
“I felt super weird that day,” I admitted. “Maybe a little hungover too. Like you are today, maybe?”
He snorted softly. “Today was supposed to be great—because last night was…something else.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” he sighed. “And one of the guys I met—I’m fairly sure he no longer believes I’m a vampire.”
I chuckled and checked the rearview. “One of the guys? Sounds like there was a line.”
“Oh, not like that. Except…” He shifted in his seat, causing the leather to squeak. “Well, kind of like that.”
What the hell? He’d clearly had fun and he’d brought it up, so it was a bad time to go all vague on me.
“Did you go to a kink party?” I guessed. “Took part in a group-play scene?”
“It wasn’t a party. A new friend was introducing me to even newer friends, and then we went back to my place and…yeah.”
I grinned. Maybe he wasn’t so uptight after all. “Whatever this is, I like it,” I said, gesturing to him. “You’re fumbling.”
In my periphery, I saw how he narrowed his eyes at me. “You like it when I fumble?”
“Sort of!” I had to be honest. “You always come off as so polished, Lucian. Like every word is rehearsed—and within kink, maybe that’s because you know what you’re talking about. You’re not reckless, and you do your homework, which is great. But this right here—” I pointed between us and stepped on the gas. “This feels more real than any conversation we’ve had at the end of an event when it’s time to go home and you don’t know how to wrap things up.”
I paused to let things settle—and to get past a poor group of road workers who’d been called in on a Saturday. I hated this intersection.
“I’m just saying,” I went on. “I wanna get to know the hungover guy who’s craving sweats and pizza and, by the sound of things, got himself lost in an orgy last night. He sounds way more interesting than the closed-off suit who takes me to a restaurant recommended to him by strangers. How does that sound?”
“It sounds like you’re drawn to people who don’t have their shit together,” he replied dryly.
I laughed. That was actually funny.
“Perfection is boring, pussycat. Give me all the cracks and dents.”
His mouth twitched, as if he were hiding a smile and kind of failing.
It made me happy.
Maybe there was hope for him after all.
ONE BY ONE ONLINE
You are now friends with Lucian Leroux
About damn time. I’d sent the request two days ago, but judging by his online activity, he wasn’t on Facebook a whole lot.
I opened up a new message and sent him the joke I’d seen the other day.
Hey, money guy! Do you know the best way to make a small fortune on the stock market? Start off with a big fortune.
At least he hadn’t turned off notifications. He responded fairly quickly.
I remember giving that joke a chuckle the first time I heard it in the ’90s. I feel the need to let you know that I never asked my parents for a sister. :) How’s your day?
“Pffft.” First of all, he should be so lucky to view me as a sister at some point. Second, that joke was brilliant.
I’ll make sure the joke is about wet cats the next time so you can relate. My day is incredibly Monday for being a Thursday. But I’m looking forward to the event tomorrow. I just have to suffer through four meetings and probably no lunch.
I walked out of my office, hoping I had enough time to visit the vending machines next to the break room on my way to my boss’s office.
Lucian responded again.
You have to eat, Penelope. You can think about wet pussy later.
I laughed to myself and tapped out a quick reply.
You’re asking for the impossible. (Stopping at a vending machine now!)
I bought myself a luxurious lunch—an apple and a chocolate bar, and I’d have to wash the gross wax coating from the apple later. Chocolate now, fruit later.
Just outside my boss’s office, I saw Lucian’s last response, and I could only grin. Both sweet and funny—who’d’a thunk it?
Damn lesbians. (That’s not enough. Don’t make me order you something, because I will.)