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She gives a final wave before disappearing, and I’m stuck standing in my doorway thinking about the discussions we had last night. We analyzed every word that came out of Wren’s mouth. We discussed his actions, the way he watched my mouth, and this cool sense of calm I felt around him. Sarah thinks he may be compatible with me sexually, and going by the kiss we shared, I’d have to agree with her. But there’s an ocean of distance between being able to get my attention during a kiss and being able to hold it during intimacy.

Any guy can be rough during sex. Any guy can slap you on the ass and call you filthy names, but that doesn’t mean they know how to do it right. Believe me, saying the things a woman like me wants to hear doesn’t exactly work when the guy is only looking for his release, uncaring for the woman under him providing that pleasure.

I busy myself with dreaded housework, changing the sheets on the guest bed and washing linens, merely wasting time until I can get on Orc’s Realm. When I’m done with chores, including feeding Simon, I log on to find Wren waiting in the game for me.

I refuse to analyze the thrill of seeing his character standing there, now suited in the best armor the game has to offer rather than just the loincloth he was provided when he first started playing.

“Hey,” I tell him when I turn my mic up, making sure my character gives him a little wave.

I hope things won’t be awkward for us. Sarah and I really built him up, and like always, I’m waiting for the disappointment.

“You remember what tonight is?” God, I freaking love his voice, and now that I’m hearing it for the first time over the mic since hearing it in person yesterday, I can’t believe I didn’t recognize it the time we met on the elevator with his parrot. It has the same huskiness to it that makes my skin tingle.

“We take down the biggest boss,” I answer.

“You ready for the after-party?”

God, I’m so ready.

The party is going to be epic, the biggest one we’ll have as this will be our first since this patch went live.

“So ready,” I tell him, not recognizing the breathiness of my own voice.

“Sounds like you’re already a little keyed up.” His character starts dancing—a ridiculous hip thrust before waving his arms in the air. “It’ll be our first orgy together.”

I nearly choke on my own spit.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine,” I sputter.

“I’m wearing my loincloth under my armor.”

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.

“I’m naked under mine,” I confess.

It’s Wren’s turn to lose control.

“Well, let’s get this thing over with. I’ve been wanting to see you naked for over a month.”

I grin, knowing he’s talking about the game, and also hoping he means me in person. I don’t confess that I’ve wanted the same thing. Maybe not for an entire month, but my fantasies get a little wild, and W45PN357 has definitely been playing a starring role recently.

It takes five tries before we’re capable of defeating the final boss. Wren pulled out moves none of us have ever seen before, but I don’t question his ability to succeed because more than likely he’s the real Wasp. Honestly, I’m just as eager as he seems to be to get to the after-party.

Even virtual sex can be nerve-wracking. My character is in peak physical shape, her body the form of what society tells everyone is perfection, whereas in real life, we’re not very similar. My character doesn’t have boobs too big for her small frame. She isn’t on the shorter side with a rounded belly she can’t seem to get rid of no matter how many hours are spent running on the treadmill and doing crunches.

“Wow,” Wren whispers. “Look at the turnout. Do these people join in or will they just stand around and cheer us on as we get down to business?”

“They have to watch,” I pant, watching both of our characters walk down the road, waving at the people cheering us on. “Only the champions get to participate.”

“Anyone in particular you have your eyes on for tonight’s festivities?”

His character walks up to me, slapping me on the ass before taking my hand and slowing us both down, allowing all the others to walk ahead of us.

“I might have my eyes on someone.”

“Is it Tasha? She’s been hinting at wanting to get under your armor for the last week,” Whitney asks.

The procession continues, but instead of following, Wren presses my back against an in-game lamppost. I feel the grip of his character’s fingers on my actual neck and I barely catch the moan before it slips past my lips.

“Do you like that?” he whispers.

“Mhmm,” I manage. “Harder.”

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