Busted.
Me:
Okay, you caught me. How are you doing?
The ellipses appear and disappear a couple of times before her message comes through this time.
Rina:
Why are you really texting me?
Me:
Truth?
Rina:
I think we owe each other that, at the very least.
Me:
I can’t stop thinking about the kiss. And I know you still hate me, for good reason. But it just felt so … fucking good.
If it were anyone else, I would never be that honest. But Rina and I were always this way, always blunt and to the point.Except the one time you lied to her.Her reply interrupts my self-loathing.
Rina:
It felt too good.
I sit frozen because, in all honesty, I thought I’d be getting a tongue lashing right now. I’d enjoy every second of it, but I was not expecting this.
Rina:
What would you say to doing something like that again, except a little more orgasm-centric and less kiss-centric?
Me:
Name when and where.
This has certainly taken a turn, but I can’t say I’m sorry. Do I know that this is destined for disaster? Absolutely. But does it even matter when the love of my life is asking for orgasms? Hell fucking no.
Rina:
I’m locked up with a custom order for the next couple of days, but I could be game in a few days. Say, the end of the week?
Me:
I’ll make myself available.
Rina:
Ofcourse you will.
I don’t reply. There’s no need to. It will only lead to a fight. I stretch my legs out in front of me in my office chair and tuck my hands behind my head. Never did I think checking in would lead to this, but damn am I going to take advantage while I can.
“What’s wrong with you?” my part-time receptionist, Audrey, asks. She’s really more of a “do everything” person, including handling emergency calls while she’s on shift, but we haven’t come up with a better title for her.
“What?” I sit up.
