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“Fine,” I say.
“Tonight?”
“No,” I say quickly, perhaps a bit harshly. “Next Saturday.”
She gasps. “What?”
“It’s called a compromise, dear. This week’s not good for me.”
“What am I supposed to do in the meantime?”
“Whatever you’ve been doing.”
She pouts, a cute frown on her face as she stares down at her plate.
I feel compelled to add to my “compromise.” “And look, it’s just gonna be sex. I’ll make you come, but that’s it.”
“Ollie…”
“That’s it,” I say more firmly.
She makes an exasperated noise. “Fine. But it better be epic.”
I get a notification on my phone and make sure it’s what I expect.
Details of your FedEx delivery. Package accepted by D. Riley.
I grin at the phone. Excellent.
Funny he doesn’t mention it.
I let it go at first, at least until the elevator doors open.
“Jack?” I call around the corner to my brooding doorman.
He doesn’t say a word.
“If you won’t give it to me now, you’ll just have to bring it up in the morning.”
Still nothing.
I grimace and force myself not to say more. I’m both disappointed and annoyed, but I get on the elevator before I have to wait another awkward five minutes for it to open again. Once upstairs, I’m restless. Confused, even. I watch some very basic porn to get some of Elodie’s fetishes out of my head. I jerk off to it, but my orgasm is anemic at best. Honestly, I haven’t had a good orgasm since the choking incident. They’ve all been like this. Hard-fought and disappointing, barely taking the edge off my near-constant agitation.
It’s probably because I quit snorting coke. Cocaine makes me horny as hell, and everything feels better when I’m high. There’s probably a whole process my body has to go through to get used to living without it. Which, whatever. It’s not like I have anything to look forward to except fucking my future fiancée, but if cocaine’s out of the picture, I might have to pop a Viagra to get it up for her.
I fall asleep naked on the couch and wake up around dawn with porn still streaming on the television. The one playing is girl on girl, and it perks up my dick. But the knock on the door has me instantly rigid.
He came.
Hmm…
I can’t use the scissor excuse again to get him inside. It barely worked the last time. But maybe answering the door with a boner will be enough to piss him off.
“Jack,” I say, revealing myself in all my morning glory. “You shouldn’t have.”
His handsome face twists into a grimace, a sneer on his lips. He’s…attractive, I guess? I don’t know. What makes a man attractive anyway? He’s wearing his uniform which is kind of ridiculous to be honest, even if it fits him well. A polo shirt with a jacket and tie? I mean—come on.
Feminine moans erupt from the sound system, along with a high-pitched refrain of “Oh my god, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come…”
