by Misha Bell
I blink at that nonsensical sentence, then grin as I decipher its meaning. “I assume Oracle is a rodent? Otherwise the specialist would be pretty confused.”
He returns my smile. “Oracle is my sea piglet.”
I arch a human hair stick-on. “What’s a sea piglet? Not those horrific-looking sea cucumber creatures with seven legs that lurk in the ocean depths, I hope? Those are not rodents. More like miniature Lovecraftian monsters.”
His smile widens. “Sorry, it’s the one English word I often mess up. I meant guinea pig. Sea piglet is a literal translation of the Russian term. The ‘guinea’ part of their name never made sense to me. The animals are from the Andes mountains of Peru, so—”
“Wait, you have a guinea pig?” I squeal the question, almost like a regular pig.
“Yeah. Why?”
“I have one also,” I say proudly. “Her name is Monkey.”
“Seriously?” The smile is a full-on grin now. “Show me.”
“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” I say—and blush instantly as I realize how that came out.
The camera blurs as he gets up. I catch a glimpse of a room the size of my living room but filled with ramps, toys, hay, and other guinea pig goodness. In the middle of it all is a fluffy orange creature with fur that goes down to its feet.
“That’s Oracle,” he says. “She’s a Coronet.”
Huh. Now I feel like a bad piggy mom. I don’t even know what variety of guinea pig Monkey is. Nor have I ever taken her to a rodent specialist. I thought a regular vet would suffice.
Hey, at least I didn’t call her Oracle, which I presume is a reference to the database company.
It could’ve been worse.
He could’ve named her Microsoft.
Realizing we’re at the “I show him mine” stage of the proceedings, I grab a seedless grape to lure Monkey out and point a camera at her when she starts munching on it.
“So cute,” he says. “Looks like an American breed.”
“Don’t worry, yours is almost as cute,” I say.
It’s a lie. His is actually cuter, but I can’t say that in front of Monkey. She’ll never forgive me.
He goes back to where he was sitting earlier. “We should organize a playdate. Oracle doesn’t display any signs of loneliness, but I sometimes worry about her. And I’ve heard two females might get along well.”
“A playdate?” I look at Monkey for feedback but don’t get any. “Is Oracle sick, though? You said you took her to a specialist—”
“No, that was prophylactic. She got a clean bill of health.”
Should I take Monkey to a vet prophylactically? In my defense, I don’t even go for annual checkups myself.
“Monkey might enjoy a playdate,” I concede. “How would that work logistically?”
His face smooths out, assuming his signature unreadable expression. “Let me look at my schedule after we’re done. I’ll text you the details.”
After we’re done.
I almost forgot what we’re here to do.
My pulse picking up, I return to my place on the couch. “Back to business?”
He nods. “What’s on the agenda today?”
“Umm. I’ve chosen the hardware but haven’t decided who should go first.”
His eyes gleam behind the lenses of his glasses. “How about ladies first? Or should age go before beauty?”
In his case, age doesn’t stop him from having more beauty, but I keep my mouth shut. I don’t want him to think I’m flirting. “I’ll go first, and I’m keeping the camera on my face, like you did.”
“Of course,” he says. “Which toy are you about to use?”
Blushing, I rummage in the suitcase at my feet and pull out the clit vibrator.
His nostrils widen.
He totally just pictured me using that.
“Tell me when you’re ready.” His words sound strained.
“Give me a second.” Eyes locked with his, I slide down my panties with my free hand.
Now his eyes widen.
I bet he knows what I just did outside his view.
My cheeks burn horribly, but something about the scenario is more arousing than embarrassing, which is embarrassing in itself.
Underwear off, I press the toy to my clit.
Chapter Fifteen
“Ready,” I whisper. “But go easy with the intensity.”
His finger grows big on my screen as he presses the “On” button.
The most minute vibration begins.
Wow.
I’m already on the verge.
His eyes roam my face.
The vibration intensifies.
Heat spreads through my core.
Must. Not. Moan.
The speed slows.
What the hell? The orgasm that was almost there begins to slip away.
Is he teasing me?
The speed increases again.
Then slows.
Then speeds up.
“Don’t stop,” my mouth says without my conscious permission.
Is that a satisfied smile? My vision blurs because the speed skyrockets.
I can’t help but moan. And moan again.
The speed increases once more and takes me fully over the edge, which is when I cry out in pleasure.
Hey, at least I didn’t scream out his name.
Feeling melty aftershocks, I move the toy away and try to catch my breath. “That was definitely more intense than when I was doing the driving.”
“Told you,” he murmurs, looking a little smug. “Now, do you want to be done for the day?”
“Nice try. Your turn now.”
He arches an eyebrow—a real one, which makes me jealous. “Which toy?”
Until now, I wasn’t sure if I’d do what Ava suggested, but because he played with the speeds, making me moan like a porn star, I decide to go for it. “Since we’re in retesting mode, I was thinking the squirrel.”
The hint of smugness disappears from his face, replaced with his usual indecipherable expression. He rummages somewhere and holds up the butt toy to the camera.
My sphincter nervously squeezes. It might have PTSD. “Yes, that.” Wait, was I trying to sound sultry? “Unless you want to officially chicken out?”
“Why would I chicken out?” he asks calmly. If he minds this, he hides it well.
“No reason. Tell me when you’re ready.”
As he lubes up the toy, I do my best to keep a poker face.
One of his hands disappears from my view, and I fight the urge to giggle.
I can’t believe he’s really doing it.
He’s putting—
He winces slightly. “Ready.”
Does he look hesitant? Do I care?
A professional wouldn’t care.
This is just testing, after all.
The familiar “P-spot stimulation” button appears on my side of the app. Feeling disproportionally naughty considering I’m just pressing my phone’s screen, I launch the squirrel.
He looks thoughtful as the toy looks for his prostate.
I hold my breath.
If there’s still a bug in his code, the toy might miss the prostate, and we’ll have another hospital visit on our hands.
Nope.
The screen informs me that the squirrel has reached the promised land that is Vlad’s prostate.
I clear my throat. “Last chance to back out.”
“I’m good.” The words don’t match his expression, but I take them at face value and jab the “On” button.
An intensity control panel shows up. Feeling merciful, I set the vibration to its minimal level.
His eyes widen.
Is that a good sign? I’ve never played with this stuff before, so it’s hard to tell.
Cautiously, I up the speed a smidge.
His breathing becomes ragged, and the veins on his neck pop out.
He’s enjoying it, right? Did we need a safe word for this?
Figuring he’d
say stop if needed, I up the speed a little bit more.
“Fanny!” he grunts.
Fanny, speed up or stop? I keep the speed the same.
He grunts again, this time clearly in pleasure, but the O-face is different today… almost as confused as it is blissed out.
I stop the vibration.
He sits there, breathing heavily.
“It happened, right?” I fight the urge to add, “Was it good for you?”
“Oh, it happened.” His voice is hoarse. “It was very different, though. I’ve heard about orgasms without penile stimulation, but—”
He stops talking, no doubt realizing the questionable professionalism of “penile.”
Blowing out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding, I order the squirrel to get out of him.
“You okay?” I ask when I see him wince again.
“All good,” he says. “But I have to go now.”
I bite my lip. “We’ll get in touch tomorrow?”
“I’ll text you,” he says and hangs up.
I stare at the blank phone.
Well, that just happened. I violated my boss squared. Gave him a sexual experience he’s never had before—a new type of orgasm, in fact.
But was his willingness to do that proof that he’s into me, as Ava suggested?
Nah. I bet he just said yes because he’s that dedicated to this project and/or open-minded. Which makes me wonder if he’d let me—
No. Stop that.
I get up, clean myself up, have a snack, and stumble into bed.
For the entire night, my sleep is restless and dreams are of the wet variety.
Chapter Sixteen
A text from Vlad is waiting on my phone first thing in the morning:
Sorry if the end of testing was a little abrupt last night.
Huh. I didn’t even think about that. Now that he’s pointed it out, it’s understandable. If I were the one with a toy in my butt, I’d have hung up even faster than he did.
No problem, I reply and even add a smiley emoji.
A new text arrives instantly:
What’s Monkey’s schedule like? I figured I’d introduce her to Oracle today, and if they like each other, we can set up that playdate.
Introduce guinea pigs? What would it look like if they did or didn’t like each other?
Given that I find the playdate idea adorable, I reply with:
Monkey is wide open today.
Wait, did I just make Monkey sound like a slut?
How does eleven sound? he asks.
I check the clock. There’re a few hours left, so I agree with this too, a little more hesitantly this time. The logistics of the introductions are a little fuzzy in my head. Are we doing it over video conferencing or—
Great. Oracle and I will be over at eleven.
Over? As in, to my place? I knew something about this introduction business was dodgy.
Well, it’s too late to back out of it now. Plus, a part of me loves the idea of seeing Vlad in person.
See you at eleven, I text him and launch into a cleaning frenzy.
By ten fifty-five, my place is cleaner than it’s ever been, and I’m wearing my nicest casual dress, plus the premium eyebrows.
“You’re about to make a friend,” I tell Monkey.
The door rings.
My heart leaps into my throat. He’s a little early. I sprint over to the door and open it.
Vlad is frowning on the other side. “You don’t have a peep hole, yet you didn’t ask who’s there.”
I just stare at him.
He’s got his usual black trench coat on, but the blue shirt underneath is more casual than the dark, crisply starched ones he wears in the office—though not by much.
“What if I were some criminal?” The deep blue eyes are glaring at me disapprovingly, and I finally realize what he said.
“You told me you’d be over at eleven.” I try not to sound defensive. “What are the chances a criminal would come to kill me at that exact time?”
“Still, I—”
“Is that Oracle?” I point at the creature in the carrier he’s holding. “She’s even cuter in person.”
His stern expression warms as he follows my gaze. “I hope this works. It’ll be fun to see her play with a peer.”
“Well, come in and let’s do this,” I say, gesturing toward the living room.
He takes off his shoes—probably a Russian thing—then walks into the living room and over to where Monkey lurks.
As he passes by me, I detect a faint hint of that same woman’s perfume I smelled earlier.
Shit. Was he with her, whoever she is?
Asking would be extremely inappropriate; we’re supposed to be acting like colleagues, not jealous lovers.
Smash something, the green monster demands.
Now you sound like the Hulk.
Smash her head.
Correction, you sound like a homicidal maniac.
“Hi, Monkey,” Vlad says in a tone that sounds suspiciously like baby-talk.
Monkey watches him with unusual interest.
He places his carrier next to Monkey’s home and waits.
“What’s happening?” I ask, putting the question of perfume out of my mind for now.
I’m not giving in to the green monster. I refuse to.
“This is so that they can see and smell each other, but not touch,” he explains.
Monkey scurries closer to edge of her cage, and when she spots Oracle, she squeaks.
I’m not a huge expert, but it sounds like a happy squeak.
Oracle’s reply squeak is similar, and she’s also at the edge of her carrier. Their noses are now only a few inches apart.
“That’s cute,” I say as they begin sniffing each other—which kind of looks like an air kiss.
Suddenly, Monkey jumps into the air, the way I’ve seen her do when I think she’s happy.
Oracle does the same.
“That’s called popcorning,” Vlad says, his gaze not leaving the pets. “Very positive sign—and unexpected so soon.”
“Interesting. What’s next?”
“Not sure. My research says to keep them separate for a while, but given this reaction, we could risk putting them together right away—assuming you’re up for it.
“Let’s go for it.”
He takes out his phone and sends someone a text.
The green monster stirs. Did he just ping the wearer of the perfume?
A few seconds later, the doorbell rings.
“That’s Ivan,” Vlad says. “But do ask who it is before you open it.”
“Yes, Mom,” I say and hurry to the door, Vlad on my heels.
“Who is it?” I enunciate.
“Ivan,” says a heavily accented voice.
“Can I open now?” I ask Vlad.
He nods. “Now it’s safe.”
When I open the door, Ivan is standing there with a huge aquarium in his meaty hands. The floor of the enclosure is scattered with toys, veggies, and other things Monkey would go gaga for.
“All new stuff,” Vlad says, noticing my confusion.
“Why?”
He smiles. “Gives their first meeting a neutral space. Less chance someone will feel territorial.”
“All right.” I gesture for Ivan to come in.
The big man also takes off his shoes, then deposits the aquarium near Monkey’s house. When she sees him, she bares her teeth at him, the way she always did with my ex.
“Monkey, you pig, don’t be mean to Ivan,” I say sternly.
“It’s fine.” Vlad glares at Ivan as though the big man had provoked the teeth-baring somehow. “Ivan was just leaving.”
With a huff, Ivan stomps out of the apartment.
“Oracle doesn’t like him either.” Vlad takes his guinea pig out of the carrier and holds her to his face. “Do you, girl?”
Wow. His guinea pig rubs noses with him. Monkey never does that with me.
Vlad deposits his
pet on the floor of the aquarium. “Do you mind if I put Monkey in there too?” he asks. “How does she feel about strangers?”
“She didn’t bare her teeth at you,” I say. “So go for it.”
He gently reaches into Monkey’s home. To my surprise, she leaps into his hands. Crazier still, when he raises Monkey to his face, the treacherous creature rubs noses with him too.
I feel doubly jealous. That should be me rubbing noses with him, or at least it should be me that my pet rubs noses with.
“You’re a guinea pig whisperer,” I mutter as he gently puts Monkey into the aquarium.
It’s either that, or he does have those vampiric powers after all, the ones that allow him to make animals his bitches.
“Monkey probably just smelled Oracle on me,” he says. “They’re clearly soulmates.”
Aww. He’s right. The two pigs begin running around like a couple of happy toddlers, squealing excitedly, rubbing noses, sniffing all the toys, and eating all the veggies. Not once do they hide in the little houses available in the corners of the enclosure.
“You know, that looks like a guinea pig mating dance,” I say, watching their antics. “I’ve seen it on YouTube. Are you certain Oracle is a girl?”
He turns my way. “Are you sure Monkey is a girl?”
I grin widely. “All I’m saying is, Monkey’s not on the pill.”
He feigns seriousness. “If there are piglets, I’ll take them.”
“If there are piglets, you’ll pay child support,” I deadpan.
The pigs stop the dance, plop down, and begin grooming each other.
Double aww. “Adorable.”
He looks up from the pigs and scans my face, eyes gleaming. “Adorable indeed.”
Chapter Seventeen
For the first time since he’s come over, I fully process the fact that I have him here, in my home.
He looks good here.
Like he belongs.
Wish I could keep him.
“How long should this introduction be?” My question comes out a bit breathless.
His lapis lazuli eyes capture my gaze. “The introduction is pretty much over, and is a resounding success. We’re all set for a playdate. When are you and Monkey free in the near future?”
I smile. “My work schedule has been pretty chill, so any day should work.”
