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“I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
Handle. (Do not use your real name)
I glare at Trista. “It wants a handle.”
“Hmm. How about Gemma? You know, for diamond?” She winks.
Snickering, I type it in, because that’s pretty good. “There are six Gemmas.”
She thinks about that. “You’re Gemma7! Hurry up and grab it. Lucky number 7!”
Nodding, I type: Gemma7.
Age: 30
Height: 5’7”
Weight…
I pause…
“Why does it need my weight?” I cringe, thinking of the men who will filter out anyone under one hundred and twenty pounds.”
“Leave it blank.”
“That’s not a red flag? Or catfish territory?”
“You have to post a picture.”
A photo! I dump my head into my hands.
Shaking her head, Trista, says, “Give me that.”
My phone in her hands, she’s typing away and swiping through my camera roll.
“Wait! What photo are you using?”
She grins over the top of my phone. “Trust me, Gemma7.”
I can tweak this later. Or delete it all together…
CHAPTER TEN
Eoghan
Gemma7: Hot Meaningless Dirty Hook-Ups Only
“What in fuck’s sake?” I glare at Jillian’s profile on the City Sinners dating app. Balor worked his magic allowing me access to her entire phone.
And that profile photo she posted.
Fucking Christ…
Her face is hidden, just cropped above the lips. But that fuckable mouth is visible. She’s wearing a short, pale-pink, low-cut dress with her tits practically hanging out. It’s all cleavage! I assume this is from a girls’ night out. I insert her beautiful face from my memory and get chills. This picture has my mouth watering. She looks fucking fuckable. I want her to wear that dress for me with no underwear so I can lift it and fuck her from behind.
Ding.
Ding.
