He shoots me a dirty look and hands me a glass of wine. I take it with an eye roll.
“So tell me again why Mr. Dreamboat is so bad.”
I stare at my gay neighbor with all the disbelief I can muster. “Seriously? You didn’t get the whole disaster-date vibe from the turning-up-late-and-ordering-my-food thing?”
“Oh, shit. And the kiss was before you got in the cab?”
“Yep. All that pent-up sexual attraction is gone. It was the equivalent of kissing your aunt on the old excitement scale.”
“Ouch. What a douchenugget.” Banes takes a long drink of his wine. “I say Mr. TDH ruined you.”
I snort and the wine in my mouth makes a very undignified journey up my nose. Oh, shit. That burns. Fvck, it burns. I pinch my nose and shake my head.
Ruined. By doing. How hilarious.
“That’s adorable. Really. It’s not like he stole my orgasm.”
“Have you had an orgasm since him?”
“Uh, no.” I won’t tell him it’s not for lack of trying. Next time, the bullet can stay in the drawer and I’ll pull out Jack Rabbit. Sometimes, you just need the double whammy, right?
This time, Sean snorts. “You tell yourself that, honey. Maybe, if you see him again, he’ll give it back if you ask nicely.”
“I won’t see him again. You know how that shit works. One time. No more.” I wave my now-empty glass before he can speak again. “Franklin was different. I was only ever planning on seeing him in a professional capacity after I fucked his balls right off his body.”
“You’re a delight, Brenda.” Banes explodes in laughter. “Truly. Oh my goodness. Okay. So Mr. TDH is also the Orgasm Catcher”—we both giggle—“and you have no intention of asking for it back.”
Because asking for that back would require actually knowing his name. Something I don’t know. And I’m fairly certain that stealing an orgasm is impossible. Illegal at the very least.
I roll my eyes again and grab the wine bottle from the fridge. “My orgasm is not lost or stolen. It’s just… particular. Some women can’t even orgasm at all, so it’s not shocking that mine should be so selective.”
“Selective. That’s what you’re calling it?”
“It’s reasonable.”
“Why don’t you think of him while you, you know? Do whatever it is you women do to orgasm by yourselves.”
My lips curve to one side. Oh, bless his heart. “No. I won’t think of him while I… Yes. That. If I do that, it could get dangerous. I might need to know who he is, and that would not end well.”
“You kicked Ross to the curb pretty good,” Banes replies after a moment of contemplation.
“That’s because Ross was sleeping with his coworker. Besides, I never really got it with Ross. He was good in the sack, but that’s about it.”
“I think you were a guy in a previous life. A straight one.”
“That’s exactly what Dayton says.” I grin. “Enough about me and my selective g-spot. What’s new in your life?”
And we talk for the next three hours, refilling our glasses until we both fall backward in a fit of giggles and pass out where we’re lying.
“Crap,” I mutter, reaching for my shrilly ringing cell. “Hello?” I groan into the receiver without looking at the caller ID. “Brenda.” My agent’s voice filters down the speaker. “I have some bad news.”
“Sara. Underwear. What’s my color scheme?”I sigh. Boy. Note to self: don’t ever be late when Nina is doing your makeup. She goes all stylist-zilla.
Well, this is awkward.And I don’t mean nervous-giggle awkward. I mean turn-around-and-run-for-your-fvcking-life awkward.
I cough and he looks up. He grins, unapologetic, and a dimple appears on his cheek. “The shoot?” I question, drawing on every bit of strength I have inside me to deal with this. “Are you ready to start?” Nope. I’m ready to click my heels and see if I’ll magic the hell out of here. “Yes. Where do you want me?” Wrong question. Wrong question. Something flickers in his eyes—lust. “On the bed.” Wrong answer. Wrong answer. I walk across the room and climb onto the bed. His eyes follow me the whole time, and I see him slowly raise the camera to his eye out of the corner of mine.
It’s a light touch, one I should barely feel but one I feel prickling all over my skin. The kiss is slow and sweet, and my hand betrays me by finding his shirt and fisting the material.“Yep, this is very unprofessional.”
I met his gaze as he let go and pulled away from me. I immediately felt empty and cold, and I pushed that feeling away as he rolled off the condom and discard it in the adjacent bathroom.My gaze followed him as he dressed, and he turned to face me. “I'll go downstair
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