“Make an exception.”
My brows shot up and I couldn’t believe his nerve. “You’re kind of bossy.”
His lips slid up slowly in a way that promised a plethora of other interesting things he could be doing with them—and my mind was cycling through them all, with visuals. “You have no idea.”
My jaw dropped slightly and all I could do was stare at him. I had no words.
He leaned into me, still holding my eyes. Inches from my face he said, “I dare you.”
I watched him for several minutes, part fascinated, part annoyed. But the fascinated part of me eventually won out. I’d been wanting to spend more time with him to get to know him better anyway. I wanted to develop a friendship, and hadn’t known how to implement that. He’d just taken the first step for me. Spending more time with him would let me find out what other surprises he was hiding. “Okay, Counselor Cade. I accept your date dare. Let’s make a plan to get coffee sometime.” Coffee was a big deal for me. Coffee meant spending a block of time alone with a guy and having conversation. It also meant I could drink my coffee fast, or take it to go if things were headed sideways. It wasn’t a meal, but it was a commitment nonetheless.
He sliced his head once to the right. “We’re already getting coffee.” He pointed to my drink like I might have forgotten it existed. I didn’t. I could smell the brewing coffee in the air, and was acutely aware of our location. Apparently though, coffee wasn’t as big of a commitment for Cade as it was for me.
“I meant we could get coffee alone—without Syd.” I glanced at Syd, who had been unusually quiet during mine and Cade’s exchange. “No offense.”
“None taken,” she said, her eyes huge with interest as she watched Cade and I go back and forth.
Cade didn’t even notice her. I turned my attention back to him and he hadn’t taken his eyes off of me. “Dinner. Tonight.”
Dinner? What the hell?! Dinner with a commitment fan like Cade was so far out of my comfort zone it might as well have been taking place on Mars. That was like skipping right over a dare, and starting at triple dog dare! I held his gaze right back as I answered, “I’m busy.” I didn’t have plans tonight, but I wasn’t going to let him think I was available on such short notice.
“Tomorrow, then.”
I didn’t want him to think I was that available either. I didn’t respond.
“I can keep going, there’s the day after that, and the day after that.”
I shifted my eyes to Syd for help. She was trying not to laugh. She wasn’t kidding; Cade really was relentless. “You can’t blindly throw out dates without even checking your schedule. Don’t you have other plans?” Surely, his social calendar couldn’t be that free.
“I’ll cancel them.”
My mouth gaped again. Cade was unlike any guy I’d ever encountered—and I’d encountered a lot. I picked my jaw back up and answered, “I’ll have to check my calendar.”
Cade motioned to my phone. “I can wait.”
Holy warrior princesses! He wasn’t going to let this go. I pulled out my phone and tapped on my calendar. There was a party tomorrow night, but I wasn’t married to the idea of going. I’d rather get the date over with, and hopefully see his naughty bits and get him out of my system so I could stop constantly thinking about the infuriating man. “I can do tomorrow night.”
“Great. I’ll pick you up at seven.”
My stomach did a flip flop and I couldn’t discern whether it was the result of anticipation, or nausea—maybe a little bit of both. I glanced at Syd from across the table and she couldn’t stop grinning. I was looking forward to crossing Cade off my list.
Tips and Tits: The Word from Mistress A
Oh, Oh, O-o-o-o-rgasm!
After my post on the clitoris, I decided we needed to talk more about the O. This should, and probably will be multiple posts, because it deserves multiples, just like you deserve multiple orgasms. Like people, orgasms are various, and complicated. If you’ve never had one, look for my upcoming post on adult toys. If your partner is intimidated by toys and doesn’t like making you writhe in pleasure, your partner doesn’t deserve you and should be sent to some barren planet for people who hate bliss…with the Paleo eaters. But for this post, let’s talk about girls who can come. That’s right. Come. Nope, it’s not a myth. Men are not the only sex equipped with the ability to ejaculate. Is it easier for guys? Absolutely. But my vagina-owning friends can accomplish it as well. I don’t advise undertaking this particular O with a novice partner. The man or woman performing the task has to know what they’re doing, and be capable of following instructions. I know, that knocks out most of the male population right there…have you ever seen a dude actually read an instruction manual? If you find one, he’s a keeper. He’ll absolutely need the directions for this task! In fact, I’d suggest taking one of the handy instructional O videos with you into the bedroom. This particular O has to do with the G-spot. I know, most of you are thinking your partner couldn’t find your G-spot with GPS and black magic, let alone manipulate it with enough skill to make you ejaculate. But I assure you, the G-spot is real! So is the orgasm, and if you know how to do it, ANY woman can ejaculate. That’s right. ANY woman. You don’t need special skills, or witch training. Just the correct pressure and speed on the G-spot. In the past, a lot of people assumed that the liquid expelled was urine because the sensation makes a woman feel like they have to pee. It’s not, folks. It’s been tested. Totally different liquid. And it actually has the same prostate specific androgen as male ejaculate. If you need more of a tutorial, Google is your friend; some of the results have handy, and not so handy visual references. Or, if you’d rather not wade through the plethora of information (and believe me, there’s a lot), you can click the link at the bottom of this post. Please be aware, that while not pornographic, the tutorial is probably not something you want to watch in public. Happy orgasming, my friends!
I got up from my desk and stood in front of my closet, trying to pick out an outfit for my date with Cade tonight. If he was prompt—and I had a feeling he was—he’d be here in less than two hours to pick me up. Thanks to my orgasm post, I’d spent most of my day answering comments and questions. The post was getting more traffic than any other post I’d written. Apparently not many people were aware of female ejaculation, or thought it only happened in porn.
Spending all day answering questions about the big O reminded me that I hadn’t had one in a while…at least not with a partner. The realization startled me and I grabbed my calendar to calculate exactly how long it had been since my last hook up. I went back a month…then two. I scratched my head, thinking that couldn’t possibly be true. I’d had an orgasm more recently than two months ago, hadn’t I? I rifled through the sex memory file in my head. Yes…I had enjoyed several climaxes, but they were all solo. I’d had some random dates that had seemed hopeful, but for one reason or another, my own pants never came off.
At one point, my continual dissatisfaction had elicited a desire to see what a guy was working with before I’d go out with them. I’d rationalized most men wouldn’t actually send me the dick pics I was requesting, and those who did probably weren’t guys I was interested in sleeping with anyway—unless they were incredibly well-equipped. My pic plan had been flawed from the beginning, however, when I’d failed to ask for proof of dick. Men were resourceful when they wanted to be, and it was exceedingly easy for them to find photos of large penises masquerading as their own to send me. Some asshats had even digitally added their face to the body of the real dick. After that, I’d required potential dates to send proof that the pic was real, and it was them…like a guy holding a calendar showing today’s date. Unfortunately, that’s also easy to alter with photo editing tools. I gave up on the idea soon after I implemented it.
I paused, thinking about my lack of partnered up sexy time in more detail. Several of the men I’d dated in the last three months, and normally would have at least given a chance to show me their skil
ls, did not get that opportunity. I looked at my calendar again, trying to figure out why.
The last time I’d hooked up with someone had been before Thanksgiving. I clicked on calendar dates around that time, reading through my daily activities. I went through almost four days before I came to it: coffee with Syd at The Grind. I inhaled a rattled breath, making the connection. That was the day Cade had walked in and I’d finally found out his name. From then on, I hadn’t been interested in anyone else. If I was being honest with myself—and I was always honest with myself—from that moment, and even before, when I’d first met him, Cade had been the star of every one of my fantasies. Technically, my orgasms hadn’t been unassisted either; there was serious support going on, Cade just wasn’t aware he’d been involved.
This kind of obsession over a guy hadn’t happened to me in years. Years. I’d vowed it would never happen again. What the hell was wrong with my brain, and why wasn’t it working in coordination with my heart like usual?
I put the calendar down and scanned my closet, organized by color. I picked out a sky blue tank top; semi see-through long sleeve grey sweater; ripped, faded skinny jeans; and a pair of grey boots that hit just below my knee. I thought it was attractive, but not rip-my-clothes-off sexual. I would have worn something showing more skin, but he’d given me no clues about where we were going for dinner, so I chose something I thought would work anywhere.
I threw the assembled outfit on the bed and was rummaging through my jewelry when my phone buzzed. I grabbed it, thinking it was a text from someone…maybe even a message from Cade. Instead, it was an RSS feed notification. I’d subscribed to Master Z’s feed to keep tabs on him and his copy-cat ass. I clicked on the link to a new Alpha Answers, and started to read.
Alpha Answers
It has come to my attention that a certain female sex advice blogger (I’m assuming she’s female since she’s calling herself ‘Mistress A’, but who can really say since none of us have ever gotten a glimpse of her—much to my dismay) has her panties in a twist that I’ve been giving sexual advice. Last I checked, Mistress A hadn’t cornered the market on sex, or the internet. Did I use her idea as a springboard for my own? Absolutely. I think Mistress A is brilliant, and talented, and she’s doing a service to every uneducated sexual being on the planet. I certainly don’t mind a little healthy competition: personally, I think it makes for better foreplay. In regard to the speculation that Mistress A and I might be working together or dating, I will agree with her on that point. We are not partners in business, or real life. Though I, too, have no problem with multiple partners, and think experiences are far more fulfilling when shared. Truly, I’d like to take her out for drinks, dinner, and what I’m certain would be scintillating conversation. But it seems our Mistress A is not a fan of fraternization with those she views as enemies. Pity. Angry sex is fantastic sex. Should she change her mind, there’s an open invitation for the two of us at a restaurant of her choosing, and I’d be happy to help her untwist her panties.
I read the post.
Then read it again.
Then heard an angry, guttural growl and realized the noise was coming from my own mouth.
The nerve of the man knew no bounds! So what if he’d called Mistress A brilliant? He’d taken my exact post, made snarky changes, and called it his own. Again! He was a grade-A douche goblin. If he thought this was going to make me back down, he was sorely mistaken.
I was furious, and taking it out on my damn hair when Syd walked up the stairs.
“Whoa! You should maybe try not brushing so hard,” Syd suggested, watching me from the hallway. “You might not have hair left if you keep that up.” I was still seething. Untwist my panties. What the hell? He knew nothing about my panty situation, and never would!
I grumbled in response, grabbing the curling iron.
“Seriously, what’s going on?” Syd asked, her tone full of concern.
I couldn’t actually tell her what was going on, and that sucked hairy monkey balls because her advice would have been helpful. Instead, I went with a more broad explanation, “Bad day.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
I shook my head, wrapping another piece of hair around my curling iron. “Not really. I just hate dealing with asshats.”
Syd nodded in understanding and didn’t press for more information. I loved that she knew me well enough to know when to push. She glanced in my room and saw my clothes on the bed. “Are you excited for your date?”
I had been. Now I was preoccupied with Master Z, and kicking him right in the nuts with pointy-toed shoes. I shrugged, trying to put my focus back on Syd’s question. “I want to get to know Cade better, and he’s nice to look at.”
She leaned her shoulder against the bathroom door frame. “Well, I know he’s excited to go out with you.”
I raised my brows as I released a curl.
“He mentioned it.”
“He seems to mention a lot of things to you,” I said, trying not to seem as distracted as I was. “He was pretty persistent.”
Syd laughed. “I warned you.”
I grabbed my makeup and touched up the light brown shadow on my blue eyes, then added bright red lipstick. Red was my signature color, and I’d found an exceptionally awesome brand of lipstick that didn’t come off—through anything. The lipstick needed its own blog post. The color was topped off with shimmery glitter gloss that made my lips as irresistible as a Palantir Stone. Syd was one of the people frequently hypnotized by it. “I can never look away from that lipstick.”
I waited a few seconds for the first coat to dry. “You need to try it.”
She watched me apply the second layer, and then the third. “I’m not really a red person.”
“Whatever,” I said, my lips stretched to make sure the color saturated every part of them. I wasn’t sure what the stuff was made of, but it seriously didn’t move once it was dry. “It comes in other colors, too, but you could totally pull this off. Jax would love it, and the fact that he wouldn’t end up scrubbing red marks off his whole body after sex.”
“I don’t think Jax even notices when I wear makeup.”
I eyed her like she’d lost her mind. “Are you kidding? Guys always notice red lips. The right lipstick can make or break the mood.”
She gave me a disbelieving look. “Guys always want to have sex. It doesn’t matter what your lips look like.”
Poor, Syd. She had so much to learn. “When I put on lipstick, it’s to draw attention there. I want men looking at my dewy, full, sparkly lips, thinking of everything they want me to be doing with my mouth.”
She snorted. “If you’re trying to get Cade’s attention, you’ve already succeeded.”
“It never hurts to remind a guy. Plus, red’s my thing.”
She nodded in concession. “You do look gorgeous in it.”
My curls had set while I finished my makeup, so I started shaking them out to get some volume and make the curls look like I’d just wrapped up a very productive hour or two naked. Nothing made my hair look as good as getting laid. I wished I could bottle the hair volume abilities sex provided. Some people call the look ‘bed head’. I call it Hustler hair, and firmly believe it gives women special powers.
Syd folded her arms across her chest. “So, about this whole job thing…”
I groaned inwardly. I knew this topic would come up again, but I was hoping it wouldn’t come up so soon. “What about it?”
“Are you sure it was a good idea to quit?”
I concentrated on applying my bronzer so I wouldn’t have to look her in the eye. She’d be able to sense I wasn’t telling the whole truth. “I needed the extra time for school stuff. It’s not a big deal.”
She pressed her lips together, trying to hold back what she wanted to say. I don’t have that problem. I have a low tolerance for bullshit, and nothing bothers me more than people who don’t take responsibility for their words and actions. I always say what I mean, and call peopl
e on it when I think they’re being disingenuous. I’m blunt, honest, and the best friend anyone will ever have. Some people can’t handle someone like me, and I’m fine with that. I don’t like everyone, and certainly don’t expect everyone to like me. Syd wasn’t one of those people who couldn’t handle the truth, however, and she had no problem with conflict. She liked me fine the way I was. “I’m just worried about you,” she said. “I don’t want you going into more debt than you have to.”
Syd’s parents were helping her with school so she didn’t have to worry much about money. My situation was a bit different. My parents didn’t have the income Syd’s did, and really, I was twenty-three years old. I didn’t feel like they should be paying for any of my expenses or schooling anyway. They helped when they could, and it made me uncomfortable every time. Now that I was in a position to completely cover things myself, I absolutely would.
My lips stretched into a genuine smile, touched at Syd’s concern. She was a true friend. “I know. I don’t want to either. If I thought it was a bad move, I wouldn’t have done it. But I promise, I’m not going into any more debt. I’m totally fine.”
She gave me a skeptical look. “The money you’ve saved is really enough to cover your paycheck?”
Again, I did my best to answer the question without a direct untruth. “Yes, it’s plenty.”
She watched me closely and opened her mouth to ask another question, then shut it. I’d known Syd for a long time, and was certain she wanted to ask where else I was getting money, and what illegal activities I was involved in. She didn’t have complete proof though, so she hedged on saying anything. I could tell it was killing her. I grinned and gave her a hug. “You worry too much.”
She blew out a long breath. “You don’t worry enough.”
I pulled my shirt over my head, bent over to rearrange my boobs in my bra for optimal cleavage display, and pulled on the blue tank top and grey sweater.
Chasing Brynn (A Tempting Novel Book 2) Page 8
