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If Roman is the type of guy she’s dated, it’s certain no man has ever taken the time to make sure she’s gotten off, which is a fucking tragedy. That means Adam didn’t either.

No surprise there.

Roman claimed she’s a virgin, but if she hasn’t come in over a decade, that is an entirely different issue. I’m no expert, but probably not everyone can. Some people might be too in their head, like Sophia believes. Others might be too stressed, medicated, or not interested, or a host of other reasons I’ve had the luxury of never considering.

But if Sophia wants to try, I want to be the one to get her there. Immediately, and with her consent, I’m determined to make it happen.

“You did volunteer for pineapple-eating lessons,” I say, reminding her.

“I wasn’t sure you’d see that.”

“Maybe I was waiting for your response.”

“Like a stalker?” she asks, trying to lighten the tone.

“More like a highly interested party.”

I can’t see her expression, but somehow I can feel it. She’s grinning from ear to cute ear.

“So, this would be a lesson in embracing my inner pineapple?” she asks.

“Is that something you’re open to?” She said as much online, but she can’t hide behind a screen here. I need to hear her agree.

“What would you get out of this?” she asks, apparently still unsure.

“Hearing you come is the prize, kitten.”

“You think you can just tell me to come, and I will?” She releases a nervous laugh.

“I’m confident in my skills,” I say in a cocky tone that I know she’ll read as teasing. I roll on my side to face in her direction.

“Pfft. Of course you are.” She pauses, then seems to switch gears. “Is this, like, a one-upping-me thing or something?”

“No, but if it were, that means you’d have to one-up me next.” I smile at the thought of what that could mean. “Maybe it would be a new kind of game.” I let those words and all they conjure hang in the air.

She laughs like she can’t believe we’re having this conversation.

I can’t believe it. I shift my position.

“I’m not going to lie. This will turn me on. Hell, I’m stiff just listening to you, but I promise I won’t act on it. I won’t touch myself. I’ll tell you what I’d do to you and how it affects me, but only to get you off. I’m focused on your pleasure.”

“You forgot to mention one part,” she says. “You want to win so you can sleep in my bed. I’ve got the better view.”

Yes, a view of you.

I close my eyes and think of how it would be to share that bed and reach for her at night. My hands grasp the blanket instead.

“But what do I get if I win?” Sophia asks, and my eyes pop open. It’s as if she’s trying to justify a reason to feel pleasure.

“Is not coming a win for you?” I ask with seriousness.

“No,” she whispers.

“I’ll play any game you want, but maybe we shouldn’t play now. Not like this,” I say slowly, reconsidering.

“Why not?” Her voice fills with disappointment.

“It wouldn’t be fair. The game is rigged.” I shake my head, even though she can’t see.