25. CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Delete
Delete
Delete
Delete
Thisis fucking unsustainable.
For now, I toggle the BLOCK feature back on. What’s worse is, I don’t know who to talk to about this obsession drowning every good sense I have when it comes to my Jillian.
If I don’t fuck her again soon…
I glance down at her app, that picture of her dancing in the skimpy pale-pink dress rattles my nerves.
The only person who could remotely understand would be Lachlan because he’s a bit touched in the head. He lives on the edge and doesn’t apologize to anyone.
Only, he’s our enforcer and had no qualms sending Cormac to the camp in Ireland.
I’ve seen Lach dripping in blood, eyes narrowed into beady slits, tongue hanging out of his mouth in all his murdering glory. Minus the blood and the tongue wagging, how he turned that icy gaze on Balor and me, his brothers, to protect his wife a few weeks ago gave me fucking chills.
I glance at Jillian’s app and consider just deleting it from her phone all together. It won’t stop her, but it will slow her down.
City Sinners: Vegas Hook Ups Made Easy
An idea strikes me. On my phone, I go to the app store and download the thing onto my phone.
Create a profile for free!
Jillian wants no-strings sex with a stranger. What if that fucking stranger is me? My heart beats wildly, and I start filling out all the shit info this app wants.
All fake of course.
Until it wants a credit card.
“I thought it was free?”
The fine print sits below, and I pinch it to make it larger.
To reply to other profiles, you must pay $79.99 a month.
“Eighty bucks?” A part of me feels bad that Jillian, who isn’t hurting for money, but not in a position to piss away eighty bucks, is being shafted by yours truly.
I’m not letting her meet anyone.
Slowly, it all comes together, how this plan is probably the most brilliant idea I ever came up with. I get to have my fill of Jillian.
I assume this obsession can be quenched with more of her on my cock, and like other woman who I’d been with and lost interest in, her luster too will fade.
The easiest way to stop wanting something is to recklessly indulge in it.
Handle: (Do not use your real name)
My cheek twitches until I come up with something.
Johnny B. Goode
Age:
Thirty-Five
That part’s true.
Height:
6’2”
Weight:
I don’t know the last time I stepped on a scale, but I remember reading somewhere in Riordan’s hospital paperwork last summer that the fucker clocked in at 250, even if he has an inch on me.
Weight:
250
City and State:
Las Vegas, Nevada
Hobbies:
To avoid poor spelling or whack job answers, the app has a list to check off.
My head already hurts.
Funny how sex and one-night stands isn’t listed on a hook-up app as a hobby. What’s the point of this shit? Maybe it’s to get around regulations and stay off law enforcement’s radar. I guess prostitutes can use this app to find Johns.
I check off a few basic hobbies to make me look serious, and not all of them, because then I’ll come off as an eager loser.
Movies
Gambling
Travel
And for shits and giggles…
Horseback Riding.
I’ve never been on a fucking horse, unless Lachlan counts. We used to dogpile him as kids, all four of us. Me, Kieran, Riordan, and Balor. Not Darragh and Cormac, they were wee-ones. And not my sister, Shea-Lynne. She thought we were smelly brats. Which we were.
Success! Now upload a photo!
Warning- Nude profile photos will be removed and accounts closed without refunds.
Sexy photos are permitted in the text feature. Please post and sext responsibly.
I shudder to think what if I had to use an app to actually find women. Although, technically, I am. One woman.
Photo.
Fuck.
Digging through Darragh’s desk, I find a ruler.
I yank out my cock, still rock hard from Jillian’s perfume, all her luscious hair, and curvy body. I give myself a few cursory strokes. With the sun streaming in a certain way, I angle the camera to pick up a shadow on the ruler to show how big I am.
Laughing, if I lean forward, the shadow extends beyond the twelve inches.
I don’t want to scare the poor woman. And I already told her I was ten inches, so I lean back until the head of my cock, which is silhouetted perfectly, hovers right at the eight and half inch mark.
Holding my phone just so…
Snap.
Upload.
I guess this is what they mean by catfishing.
Success! Now leave a short personal message. (100 characters or less)
I will make your sexual fantasies a mind-blowing orgasmic reality.
Ha, thirty characters to spare, but I don’t need to say any more. Once I slide into Jillian’s DM, I’ll chat her up the same way I talk to her in person. She’s so fucking feral for it, nothing else will matter.
Success! You can now browse other singles in your area.
I type in some metadata so Jillian’s profile comes up on my app.
And there she is. Gemma7
“You are so mine, sparkles.”