Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 87856 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87856 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Patrick: What's left?
Imogen: I lack lingerie.
Patrick: I don't need fancy lingerie.
Imogen: Maybe I do.
Patrick: I can buy you something.
Imogen: That's sort of a boyfriend task.
Patrick: Not if it's for sex.
Imogen: Maybe. Jade does say her lingerie is from gentleman callers, and she'd never consider a serious relationship.
Patrick: You've seen her collection?
Imogen: We're not that kind of roomies.
Patrick: There go my threesome fantasies.
Imogen: Really?
Patrick: No.
Imogen: Have you ever considered it?
Patrick: A threesome with two women?
Imogen: Don't tell me you haven't. I won't believe you.
Patrick: Imagined it, sure? Watched some manufactured porn? Also, yeah. Looked for something more believable… again, yeah.
Imogen: Did you find it?
Patrick: Do you want me to send links?
Imogen: I don't know. Will it scare me?
Patrick: Not the more realistic stuff. Unless porn scares you.
Imogen: I've never watched.
Patrick: Never?
Imogen: Okay, I have, but never on purpose, on my own, for stimulation. A friend showed me in high school. And there was this college party my freshman year. A bonding experience for all the girls on my floor watching some over-the-top, high-production value stuff.
Patrick: Did you like it?
Imogen: No. It was fake. And weird. Aggressive. Do you watch a lot?
Patrick: When I was younger.
I didn't always see through the bullshit. That's another thing I lost, another thing I'm glad I lost, but it's strange. I barely recognize the guy I used to be.
Patrick: Not much, anymore. I got tired of how fake it felt.
Imogen: Aren't there amateur videos?
Patrick: A lot of those are fake too.
Imogen: Manufactured authenticity?
Patrick: Exactly.
Imogen: Is there anything real?
It's a good question.
Patrick: If you look hard enough. Do you want me to find something for you?
Imogen: You'll suffer through a bunch of porn for me?
Patrick: That's how much I like you.
Imogen: What a sweet fuck buddy.
Patrick: I'm generous that way.
She sends an eggplant emoji.
Then a water drop emoji.
She's funny. She really is.
Imogen: I prefer to use my imagination.
Patrick: Oh?
Imogen: Or a book. I don't sit there, reading with one hand, but I find inspiration and then…
Patrick: Go on.
Imogen: I touch myself.
Patrick: When was the last time?
Imogen: Last night.
Patrick: What did you think about?
Imogen: I replayed our tryst in the bar.
Patrick: Which part?
Imogen: Every part. Especially your hands on my skin.
She's good at this.
I'm trying to tease her and she's torturing me.
Patrick: How did you fuck yourself?
Imogen: My hand on my clit.
Patrick: Do you have toys?
Imogen: Yes, but they wouldn't feel like your hands on my skin.
My blood rushes south.
Why did I wear jeans? The denim is too tight.
Imogen: I thought about this too. How it would go. How it would feel to send you a picture. To hear your voice. Or for you to hear mine.
Patrick: I want to.
Imogen: You're somewhere private?
Patrick: Yeah.
Imogen: Can you go somewhere public?
Patrick: You want me to hear around other people?
Imogen: Yeah. I want to torture you too.
So she knows the effect she has on me.
Patrick: What if I want to fuck myself?
Imogen: You can wait.
I want to wait. Is it that obvious?
Patrick: Pictures first.
Imogen: What do you want to see?
Patrick: You. In your bed.
Imogen: I need a mirror here, for angles.
Patrick: You want to go to Target? I'll buy one.
Imogen: That's domestic. Target.
Patrick: It's dirty. Buying a mirror for sex in front of all these people shopping for laundry detergent.
Imogen: When you put it that way…
Patrick: If you stay over after the party.
Imogen: Bribery?
Patrick: Or before if you'd prefer. We can meet there instead of my place.
Imogen: I'll consider the bribery.
Patrick: It could be for my place.
Imogen: I'm considering it.
Patrick: Picture. Now.
She sends a snapshot of her legs stretched over the bed.
Then a higher one.
Purple fabric stretched over her hips.
The long line of her torso.
A matching bra covering her perfect tits.
And then her face, her lips the perfect shade of berry, her eyes on fire with need.
Patrick: Take off the bra.
Imogen: Done.
Patrick: Show me.
She sends a photo of the bra on her sheets.
She doesn't trust me.
It's fair.
But it's—
The buzz of my cell interrupts my thoughts.
There it is.
A picture of Imogen, from her nose to her belly button.
Only Imogen.
Her bare skin against the dark pink sheets.
Patrick: You're gorgeous.
Imogen: Thank you.
Patrick: I'm hard enough to cut glass.
Imogen: Are you ready to call?
Patrick: Take off your panties.
She sends another picture of her underwear on her sheets.
Then just her.
She is torturing me. She's torturing me in the best possible way.
Patrick: Two minutes.
Imogen: I'm not waiting two minutes.
Patrick: Thirty seconds.
Imogen: Fifteen.
There's no way I'm going to let the flag fall while I do this. I can't walk around advertising the state of affairs, but I can stay discrete—
I slip out of the bathroom.
Luna shoots me a suspicious look. "That fast?"
"No."
She looks to my crotch without a hint of shyness. "You know, I, uh… I'm going to get some coffee."
She grabs her sweater and leaves.
I find my sketchbook, hold it over my waist, step outside the shop.
There's nobody to greet customers.