My jaw ticks. She’s testing me. Well I can test her right back.
Me:
Are you offering me a show?
April:
I meant for this weekend.
Me:
Ah. No. I don’t want to see them on you in person.
But I’ll give you the morning off tomorrow to rectify this if you show me how they look on you right now.
Put them on. Let me see.
April:
Are you serious?
Me:
Deadly.
You want me to up the stakes?
I’ll approve your next assignment without asking for rewrites.
Might even tell you “Good job.”
The lack of a response quickly makes my fingers twitch. I’ve either annoyed her so much that she’s done with the conversation, or…
Four minutes later, my phone dings.
April:
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The breath leaves my lungs in a whoosh. There she is, sitting on the floor on her knees in front of a full-length mirror.Fairy lights hang in the background of a mismatched, cluttered apartment.
But I’m not looking at the apartment.
I’m looking ather.
Her blonde hair hangs over one shoulder and her cheeks are bright pink. And the phone in the reflection covers her lips and chin. She’s wearing that stupid, cheap red thing she bought today,and I can see more of her than I’ve ever seen before. Her shoulders, her cleavage, her belly, her thighs. One arm is wrapped around her stomach like she’s trying to cover it, and I make a mental note of an insecurity.
My cock strains hard against my slacks.
Me:
Jesus fucking Christ.
Even in cheap lingerie, you’re breaking my brain a little bit, princess.
Take it off. Throw it out. It’s cute, but I want better. You’ll look even sexier in something prettier.
I watch the little dots dance at the bottom of my screen, then disappear, then dance again, then disappear. I’ve flustered her.
