A Perfect Ten

Page 41

This was getting more and more ridiculous by the moment.

Needing to keep him from saying anything else that might make me jealous of myself, I said, So your turn. Why don’t you want to meet? Did I cause a trigger last time?

Trigger? He was obviously clueless, which made me smile and instantly loosen my tense stomach muscles.

You told me about your sister’s death, I reminded him. Maybe you didn’t like exposing so much of yourself to me. Or maybe you didn’t like how I kept calling you Oren. Maybe you let me get too emotionally close and that made you uncomfortable.

I don’t know why I said any of that. Anything he responded with would probably hurt. If he told me he hadn’t felt anything for me during our encounter, I’d die. If he said he’d liked how he’d opened up to me, I’d get jealous of myself...again.

But instead of either of those responses, he said, You’re totally whack.

As I laughed and shook my head, he added, But that’s okay. I dig crazy chicks. I don’t mind that you’re a complete stalker or that you probably even know what color my panties are right now. I think your obsession with me is hot.

I laughed again, this one bordering on an outright giggle. You’re not wearing panties, I wrote, because they were probably boxers or briefs, or oh yum, my favorite: boxer briefs.

Damn, you’re good.

Reading his response made my grin widen, but a second later, I sobered. So if my creeper traits aren’t scaring you off, you don’t mind that I want our meeting in total darkness, and I didn’t hit any triggers, then why were you so quick to call tomorrow night off?

Baby, you’re the one who called it off.

I rolled my eyes. Was he really that dense? But you agreed IMMEDIATELY.

Oh I’m SO sorry, was I supposed to beg you to let me back into your pussy again?

With a frown, I pounded out my response. YES, DAMN IT!

Jesus, fine, he shot back. Please, my mysterious midnight visitor who feels like heaven around my cock, would you be so kind as to let me back into your pussy again?

Oh my God. What a douche. Fuck you.

That’s the plan, sweetheart. I want to fuck you until you can’t walk straight the next day. So are we on or not?

That would be a hell no. You don’t want me.

You are definitely a confusing fucking woman. FUCK! I do want you. Okay? I want you, and THAT’S the problem. I want you, but I want someone else, and I’m all fucked up in the head, feeling like I’m cheating on you both, when honestly I don’t really have either of you, do I? So any kind of cheating would be literally impossible, wouldn’t it?

I pulled back, staring at his words in a strange kind of shock. But he’d just admitted to wanting...someone. Was it me? Immediately, I wondered if it could be. Zoey seemed to think he cared about me. Occasionally between all his foulmouthed sluttiness, I caught a flicker of interest, but...I’d never been completely certain.

My mind raced. Could I actually make him feel guilty about sleeping with me because he thought he was betraying...well, me? Damn, that was as messed up as me feeling jealous of myself.

Are you saying you’re currently sleeping with another woman? I asked, purposely misunderstanding him, because I needed to gain more intel here. But I think the question irritated him a little.

Jesus! No. I just TOLD you, you’re the only person I’m fucking right now. I’ve never fucked the girl I want. I will never fuck her. I can’t.

My breath caught in my chest, but holy shit. It was me. He was talking about me. He had to be!

She’s forbidden to you? I pressed.

Bingo. And when you came along, in the dark with no name, no face, it was easy to picture HER.

And...here came more jealousy of myself. Or—if I was wrong, and he was as crazy for another woman as I was for him—then here came a load of jealousy for that fucking bitch who stole his heart, whoever she was.

YOU DICK! You imagined you were with ANOTHER woman when you were with me? I bit my lip, not really as upset as I made the message sound, but I had to know how he would answer that.

Fuck. I really am losing it. I cannot believe I admitted that to you. Can you pretend you never read that? Please.

Okay, that wasn’t exactly an apology, but he did sound contrite. I wasn’t sure what to make of it all, so I asked, What’s her name?

That would be a hell to the big fucking no, I will never tell you her name.

Again, I wasn’t sure how to feel. If he was talking about me, I was pretty smug that he felt so protective. But if he was referring to someone else, I wanted to bawl. “Bet I can make you cry it out when you come inside me tomorrow night.”

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