Our Shattered Pieces

by M. E. Clayton

  “I bet.”

  Silence descended after that, and rather than let things get awkward, I carefully stood up while I supported her legs before setting them back down on the couch. Grinning down at her, I said, “Well, now that you’re safe, the plant is replaced, and all is right with the world again, I think I’ll head out.” She made a move to get up, but I stopped her. “Don’t get up. I know my way out.”

  She gave me a grateful smile. “Thanks again, Grayson.”

  I smiled back. “No problem, Molly.” I turned away from the beauty and made my way out of the condo. I had my phone in my hand before I even hit the elevator.

  What in the fuck was Ques?ionable.com?

  Chapter 21

  Molly~

  Warm, well, and snuggled in my own bed, I pulled out my phone to check my Ques?tionable.com account.

  A month ago, I’d been doing the porn thing, trying to get my imaginary fix, and an ad had popped up for the site. Curiosity had me clicking the link, though I knew the risks. My orgasm had been subpar, and I’d been feeling the letdown pretty hard.

  When I had clicked the link, my first thought was that it was a hookup site, because why wouldn’t it be? They were all hookup sites. Straight forward with no pretense about wanting to get to know someone better.

  But I was wrong.

  Oh, it was a hookup site, for sure, but not like any I’d ever heard of before. This one had specifics that were…well, rather specific. From a woman’s measurements to the most unimaginable kink.

  Intrigued, I had created an account, and had been blown away with how dedicated the site was to helping you find exactly what you were looking for. If you clicked a header, it brought up another set of options, that brought up another set up options, that brought up another set of options, until your every specification was met. However, all the headers were of unconventional sexual categories after you got past your appearance preferences.

  I was always a tall, dark, and handsome kind of girl, so I had selected my appearance specifications to give me dark hair, unspecific eye color, six-foot or taller, and fit, but not muscle-bound. I liked my men with six-pack abs just like the next girl, but I drew the line at so muscular, he no longer had a neck.

  As for everything else, I had answered honestly, and had sugarcoated nothing. And because everything had been so detailed, it had actually taken me two hours to finally finish the profile of what I was looking for. And since creating the account a month ago, I’ve had five matches that have reached out to me, but I’ve yet to meet any of them.

  The problem with what I was looking for was that I understood the dangers of what I was asking for. I wanted someone to basically degrade me in the bedroom but be observant enough not to cross the line. It was a lot to ask, and I knew this.

  And while I knew all about the warnings of meeting someone from a dating website, it was no more dangerous than meeting someone at a bar or a party. People act as if women had never been attacked or taken advantage of before the internet came along.

  Logging onto my account, I finally checked my incoming messages from earlier today. When I had received the first notification, I had quickly erased it from my screen, a little paranoid that Grayson might see it or had seen it when he had passed me my phone.

  It also hadn’t escaped my attention that Grayson Lewis ticked off all the appearance boxes, and a lot of the sexual boxes as I’d been choosing for my selections. With dark brown hair, those blue eyes, and that big dick, if the man had no problem calling me a dirty slut, I’d marry him.

  Seriously.

  And if not marriage, at least a few more rolls in the hay. Maybe a once-a-month stress reliever. Or every other weekend. Or every weekend. Or every other day would work, too.

  Laughing to myself, I pulled up my messages, and I found I had two from earlier today from the profile JustEnoughKink.

  JEK: Your profile sounds perfect, SearchingForPossibilites.

  That was another thing with the site. No pictures. In an attempt to ensure safety for its members, we weren’t allowed to upload images onto the site. If you matched with someone, it was up to you if you wanted to send photos through different means.

  Pulling up his profile, he appeared to be another perfect match. And his profile name made me wonder if he was just what I was looking for. Someone who was dirty enough, but not dark enough to cross the line.

  JEK: Hit me up if you’re interested in talking to see if we match up.

  His second message gave me pause. The site already had us matched up, but the fact that he wanted to talk to double check had me feeling good about this particular match. All my previous matches had automatically gone straight to wanting to hook up. They’d been ready with dates and times with their first messages to me. This felt different.

  So, different, in fact, that I fired off a reply.

  SFP: Sorry about the late response, busy day.

  I’d sent the message, and was ready to send another one, when another message came in almost immediately.

  JEK: No problem. I understand being busy.

  SFP: Can I ask you something intrusive?

  JEK: Without knowing you, you probably know more about me than the people closest to me.

  He had a point. Even if we didn’t know each other, for him to have become a match for me, I knew a lot of what he liked personally, even if I didn’t know his name or what he looked like.

  JEK: Ask away.

  SFP: How long have you been on this site?

  JEK: A couple of years. It’s a great site for what I need.

  I thought about that, and hoped he was right. However, even with all the specifications checked off, I knew people lied. He could be married with six kids and I wouldn’t know it.

  But there was only one way to find out.

  The rest of the night was spent messaging back and forth with JustEnoughKink, and I really did feel like this time might be different.

  Chapter 22

  Grayson~

  I had no idea how long I’ve been on this goddamn website, but my eyes were starting to cross with everything I’ve read.

  And.

  Holy.

  Shit.

  Ques?ionable.com wasn’t like your regular dating or hookup sites. It was so damn detailed, it seemed almost impossible to not to find exactly what you’re looking for. When I had clicked on the Rough Play header, it had taken me to another set of options, and from there, it had taken me to another, then another, then another.

  However, like all sites, you only got a limited tour of the site unless you created a profile. The site showed you just enough to entice you, but not enough to show you if the site was really for you or not.

  So, I created a profile.

  And though I knew I had no idea what Molly’s profile was, I had that damn name from her message imprinted on my brain.

  JustEnoughKink.

  The name, alone, had given me a hint as to what Molly might like; a bit of dirty, but nothing violent. Or so, that’s what I assumed. And of course, we all knew people on the internet lied all the time, but I didn’t understand why anyone would need to lie on this site. It was so specific, it tossed embarrassment out the door. If you were getting matched with someone, it was because they liked the damn near exact same thing you did, and that was rather thrilling.

  However, I wasn’t here to find a match. I was here to find Molly. I wanted to match with Molly. I wanted to know her secrets. I wanted to be the one to make all her fantasies come true, no matter what they were.

  Except for sharing.

  Though I’ve never tried it before, I knew I wasn’t the kind of man who could share. Having had a few monogamous relationships in my life, I knew enough to know that possessiveness was a real thing with me. Was I volatile like Gage was over Mystic? No. Was I obsessed like Lorcan was over Rowan? No. But then, I’ve never been in love, so I honestly had no idea what that particular emotion might bring out in me, but I did know that what’s mine was mine.

&nbs
p; Women included.

  Especially, women.

  As I went in search of Molly Cavanaugh on this site, I was quickly coming to realize that I was slightly bothered by knowing she was on this site. I didn’t like the idea of her searching for satisfaction with someone who wasn’t me. Did that make me a hypocrite since I’ve slept with two other women since the night of the wedding? Maybe. Probably. But I wasn’t the one who had ended the night without any hope of something more. I had let Molly call the shots, and she had called them.

  Now that I had a profile, the site introduced me to another million options and laid out about a thousand rules and regulations. Pictures were a no for safety purposes, and if you got even one investigative complaint, you were kicked off the site. Ques?tionable.com prided itself on making sure you could explore your sexual preferences safely and comfortably. The site was designed to weed out predators, and I had to admire that.

  So, after creating my profile, I spent the next couple of hours selecting my specifications, hoping they would magically send me straight into Molly’s matches. Of course, I had no idea what her profile name was, so I had no idea how I was going to be able to identify her, but I knew where I needed to start.

  JustEnoughKink.

  I typed in his profile name, and I had to laugh at how I was on a site that catered to every sexual kink imaginable, but I was still assuming JustEnoughKink was a man. It could be a woman for all I knew. Maybe that’s what had been missing from my night with Molly. Maybe she was into women. Now, I found that a little hard to believe with the way she came all over me, but maybe she liked both. Maybe she liked the soft feel of a woman next to her while she was taking dick. Who knows?

  But as his profile came up, it stated that he was a man. And though it didn’t tell me much else, besides the basics, his recent matches were listed on his profile.

  Jackpot.

  As I read the names off, I mentally dissected through them, wondering which one was most likely to be Molly. There was YourDirtyGirl, but that seemed too unoriginal. There was MakeMeDirty, and that one seemed rather unoriginal, too. There was FuckMeHard, and that seemed rather aggressive for Molly Cavanaugh. Though the woman was on this site, Molly Cavanaugh was all class outside the bedroom. So, that left SearchingForPossibilities, and that could only be Molly.

  I typed in her profile name, and like I starving man, I ate up everything her profile could tell me about her and what she liked in bed.

  And fuck me running.

  Stalking her profile, she liked tall, dark, and handsome, which I never thought about my looks much, but I wasn’t blonde, and I was six-foot-one, which would make me tall in comparison to her short, petite frame. She didn’t care about employment as long as you were employed, and I liked that. With as wealthy as she and her family were, it would be easy for Molly to be a snob, but she wasn’t. She was just looking for a man who wasn’t a complete loser and freeloader, and I understood that. With the kind of money she had, she had to protect herself from dating men who just wanted access to that money.

  Once I got past the basics, I delved into the sexual specifications of her profile, and it took everything I had not to pull my dick out and rub one out to what the woman had listed as her preferences.

  Molly-and I prayed to God it was Molly-like to be debased.

  It read that she liked to be called names. It read that she liked to be used. It read that she liked it rough and dirty. It read that she liked to be marked.

  It read like all my fucking dreams come true.

  And the fact that Molly was all class outside the bedroom made the idea of dirtying her up that must more potent. No one could know that the woman who worked with charities, dressed like a model, walked with the grace of a queen, and spoke with the vocabulary of higher learning loved being called a dirty whore in the sheets. To be the man who got to see her like that was a worthy accomplishment, for sure.

  Hoping against all hope that I was right, and SearchingForPossibilities was Molly, I fired off a message from my profile to hers. I wasn’t going to lie to her or lead her on. If she responded, I had every intention of telling her who I was and how I found her. Would she get pissed? Probably. But I wasn’t going to let this opportunity slip through my fingers.

  Finding a woman, who I could let go with, was a dream come true. But if that woman could be Molly Cavanaugh, then that would be a life of limitless possibilities, and I wasn’t about to pass that up.

  Chapter 23

  Molly~

  My feet were killing me, and with the Calgary Scholarship Foundation’s fundraising event tomorrow, I was running on fumes.

  The funny thing about the events I put on, people often mistook the reason I was always in attendance. A lot of people wanted to mingle with me because they thought I was there as a Cavanaugh, and as not to offend anyone, I was constantly juggling being Molly Cavanaugh and being the event’s coordinator. As rewarding as the results always were, some nights I just wanted to get stupid drunk.

  With a glass of wine in hand, I went into my home office and opened my laptop to put out any last-minute possible fires. In fact, I’ve been so busy with the fundraiser, I’ve pretty much ignored everything else, including the new notifications from Ques?ionable.com.

  But there was also the fact that, after the night of message exchanges with JustEnoughKink, I didn’t think I needed to check out any more matches. JustEnoughKink seemed like the real deal and someone I could probably feel comfortable moving forward with. I hadn’t given him any personal information, like my email or phone number yet, but I was hopeful.

  When I was satisfied that everything was ready for tomorrow night, I shut my laptop down and went back into the kitchen for another glass of wine. Ready to relax and unwind before tomorrow’s fundraiser chaos ensued, I turned on the television and got comfortable on the couch. And not really caring what was playing, I pulled out my phone to check if any of those incoming messages had been from JustEnoughKink.

  Two of them were from JustEnoughKink.

  One was not.

  And the message was simple and to the point.

  TheColorGray: I’m the one, MC.

  I felt like my chest had just been kicked in as I read the words. My breathing coming in shallow pants, shock, surprise, and mortification hitting me like a ton of bricks, I knew exactly who was messaging me. The profile name and my initials were too much of a coincidence for it not to be Grayson fucking Lewis.

  The memory of him handing me my phone came rushing back, and this was proof that he’d seen the notification and had been curious enough to look into it. Was it an invasion of privacy? I wasn’t sure. It wasn’t as if he’d gone scouring through my purse to snoop through my phone. He’d handed it over to me, all out in the open, and the message title had been lit up on the screen.

  That was something I was going to have to think about. But while I was thinking about it, I replied to his message, because though embarrassed, I wasn’t a coward. I’ve faced worse than Grayson Lewis finding out what I liked in the bedroom.

  SPF: Are you, though, GL?

  I wanted him to know that I knew who he was. Whatever this was, whatever this could be, it wasn’t going to start off on bullshit. On a site where I could be completely honest with myself and my matches, I wasn’t going to start playing games now.

  As I waited for Grayson to reply, I knew I had to send off a message to JustEnoughKink. Grayson coming into the picture changed everything, and I wasn’t going to lead JustEnoughKink on if Grayson Lewis was an option.

  But before I could type up a message, Grayson replied.

  TCG: You tell me. You already have an idea of what I’m capable of.

  That was true. Even without my sexual proclivities coming into play that night, Grayson had been fantastic in bed. He had a huge dick and knew exactly what to do with it. However, there was no escaping that he was only on this site because he’d been curious. Or so, that’s what I thought.

  SFP: How long have you been on this site
?

  TCG: A few hours. I only created a profile to find you.

  SFP: So, how do I know you’re really into all this? How do I know you’re the real deal?

  TCG: Give me one night to prove it.

  SFP: I’m not looking for something manufactured. I’m tired of faking it.

  And I must have hit a male nerve because his reply was a little aggressive for this conversation.

  TCG: Your pussy leaking on my dick was not fake.

  SFP: Let me rephrase. I’m tired of holding back.

  TCG: Of you holding back, or the man holding back?

  I read his reply twice, and I couldn’t deny the shiver it sent down my spine. He was talking about dual sexual fulfillment. Not just mine, and not just his, but ours.

  SFP: Both.

  TCG: I read your profile, and I just need one night to show you we desire the same things.

  SFP: I’ll think about it.

  His reply shocked me, and also thrilled me at the same time.