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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.
