Chapter 13 Blurry Selfie of Your Turgid Member
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Blurry Selfie of Your Turgid Member
IRINA
“How long have you known Henry?” Cadence asked, sliding into the chair he had just vacated. Her smile was forced. Clearly whatever she and Henry had been talking about over by the counter hadn’t gone how she wanted it to.
I shrugged, outwardly blasé. “Well … probably not as long as you have.” I waggled my eyebrows suggestively. “Do I detect a history between you two?”
I would get the tea from this woman one way or another.
Her eyes flashed. “Oh, there’s a lot of history.” She flipped her long, platinum hair over her shoulder. “He asked me to marry him, you know.”
I blinked. “What?”
Cadence nibbled on her lip. “We dated for years, back at university. And …” Her eyes dropped to her bag, clutched between white knuckles and resting on her lap. “Well, let’s just say there are still feelings there despite the fact that we didn’t get married.”
Oh, I had no doubt there were still feelings. On her part at least. The way she’d launched herself after him when he left the table, had watched him as he’d visibly dismissed her and walked stiffly away, made me think those feelings were very much one sided.
I really hoped they were one-sided.
“Well, he seems like a nice guy,” I hedged, hoping to keep her talking about him. “Nothing like what you’d think a rich tech bro would be like.”
“Well, he’s not exactly a normal guy,” she explained softly.
“What does that even mean?” I demanded, my hackles rising.
“He’s autistic.”
“Yeah, and?” I asked.
Cadence didn’t seem to notice, though. “Well, it explains why he’s not like your average guy, I guess. And it makes him a very … complex man to be romantically involved with.”
I narrowed my eyes, my blood heating. “In what way?”
“Let’s put it this way. He’s hard work. It takes a certain … personality to manage him.”
Is this bitch fucking for real?
“Have you stopped to consider that maybe everyone can be difficult to be with romantically?” I demanded, clenching my napkin in a white-knuckled fist. “And that the things an autistic person needs in a relationship are no less valid than the things you need?”
Cadence’s eyes widened. “I—”
“And maybe if you’re unable to meet someone’s needs, that isn’t a reflection on them, but on you, or on your compatibility together?” I interrupted, blood boiling and well and truly on my high horse. “Autistic people don’t need managing—they need fucking understanding!”
Cadence, pale faced, rubbed at her forehead. “I didn’t mean that Henry was to blame … I was so young, and the thought of … I just wasn’t emotionally prepared for a life with him …” She glanced up at me through her heavy lashes. “Back then, anyway.”
“And you think you could cope with ‘managing’ his ‘complex’ personality now, do you?” I asked sharply.
Cadence busied herself with her purse, dragging out a glossy brochure and sliding it across the table to me. “I’ve matured a lot since I was twenty-two. A lot of things about me have changed in the last six years.” One eyebrow slid up just slightly, and I didn’t miss the little jab about my age.
“But we’re not here to talk about my unfinished business with Henry Baxter.” Her smile slid back into place, professional and fake. “We’re here to talk about how I can help you diversify your content, and you can help me sell vibrators.”
I pasted an equally shallow smile on my face. Two can play at this game, Cadence Sullivan. And no matter what I thought about this woman, personally, I wasn’t going to let it get in the way of my business … or my free toys.
“Then by all means, pitch away.”
“You know, I’m sceptical about this,” I muttered, turning the device over and over in my hands. “It feels very … flimsy. And you know I like to ride my toys hard …” I winked at the camera as I reached behind me to unhook my bra. My breasts fell free, and I reclined against my pillows.
I flicked the power button on the toy, my brows rising.
“For such a dainty thing, she packs a punch!” I held the quill-shaped toy, complete with a silicon tip shaped like a feather, against one nipple, letting out a gasp when the peak immediately pebbled under the vibrations. “That’s very … stimulating!”
I circled one nipple, then the other with the thing, letting it trail over my skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “This vibe is designed for all-over stimulation, and …” I lowered it between my breasts and down my stomach. “It would be so much fun to use with a partner, to let them explore you.”
I dipped it to my thighs, tracing circles from my knee, up the inside, and then across my mons, not letting it touch my now aching pussy. “But I have to say, if you like to tease yourself with solo play—it’s a new thing for me, I’ll admit—this is doing … o Doamne … this is fucking fantastic!”
Bang! Bang bang!
I sat bolt upright, cursing and reaching for the phone to stop recording. I checked the time—it was too early for Kat to be home from work, but she did sometimes get sent home early if the Taverna was quiet. Maybe she forgot her key?
Shivering as I wrapped a robe around my naked, sensitised body, I opened my door and hurried down the hallway towards the front door.
“Kat, if that’s you, I want you to know that you’re clit-blocking me … or, maybe edging? Perhaps I’ll credit you in my post for helping me heighten my orgasm with clitoris interruptus … oh.”
There was no one there. The hallway outside our apartment door was completely empty.
Had I imagined the knocking sound?
“Hello?” I called out, the sound echoing down the stairwell at the end of the corridor. Nothing.
Shrugging, I closed the door and returned to my room, picked up my Quill and got back to work. Teasing the buzzing silicone feather along my skin, over erogenous zones … up the insides of my thighs until I was so close to—
Bang bang! Bang, bang bang!
“De dragul dracului!” I cursed, tossing the Quill down on the bed and wrenching on my robe once more.
There was a family with two tween boys living in one of the apartments one floor down. Perhaps they’d decided a little knocking and running would be hilarious.
I crept towards the door, straining to hear any hint of sound on the other side. Was that the scuff of a shoe? On tiptoes, I made it the final few steps, unlocked the dead bolt as silently as I could and flung the door open.
“Gotcha!”
Silence and emptiness met me. A chill started low down my back, between my hips, and trembled its way up until it tightened my shoulder blades, robbing me of breath.
I closed the door. Checked the dead bolt, twice. Wiped my clammy palms on my robe and returned to my room. With my bedroom door closed, and locked, I shoved the Quill aside, tucked my legs up and wrapped my arms around them.
My phone stared accusingly at me from the tripod. I unclipped it with shaking hands and deleted what I’d filmed so far. The Quill Road Test would have to wait for another day. I wasn’t in the mood for orgasms now.
BUZZZZ!
“Aaargh!”
I dropped my phone onto the comforter. It lay, face up and open on my Tickle notifications screen, completely benign.
“For fuck’s sake, Irina!” I snatched the thing up. A user called M_Jay had sent me a DM. That had been the buzzing sound. “A pair of pre-pubescent pranksters is not a reason to lose your shit over every little thing.
I clicked into the DM.
M_Jay: I’ve been researching all possible avenues for your ongoing stay, and I’ve come to the conclusion that marriage is the best (only) option for your situation.
A grin spread across my face, even as another DM pinged into my inbox.
M_Jay: It’s Henry, by the way.
Laughter snorted out of me, the fear of a moment ago melting from my bones, and my thumbs flew over the screen.
Ru_Snack_XXXplores: Well, helloo there Henry M Jay. Is it normal for the owner of a multi-billion-dollar app to slide into a creator’s DMs? And if it is, where’s the blurry selfie of your turgid member? You have to play by the rules, and an unsolicited dick pic as a greeting is rule number one …
Ru_Snack_XXXplores: What does the ‘M’ stand for? Millionaire? Marriage?
Ru_Snack_XXXplores: Menstrual Cycles …?
I bit back more giggling, watching the dots appear on his side of the screen.
M_Jay: It stands for Mocking, which ironically, feels like what you’re doing to me right now.
M_Jay: And I’m sorry to disappoint on the dick pic front … but allow me to send you a consolation prize.
A picture popped up on the screen, and I guffawed.
M_Jay: A pussy pic is the next best thing, don’t you agree?
The picture was of his orange fuzzball Abernathy, lolling on his back on Henry’s bed, tail tucked between his little fluffy legs.
Ru_Snack_XXXplores: Is that my black G-string he’s resting his head on?
M_Jay: I believe it is now HIS black G-string.
Ru_Snack_XXXplores: It’s lucky I have a whole drawer full of them then, isn’t it?
M_Jay: Perhaps it might be time to retire them.
Ru_Snack_XXXplores: Henry … are you suggesting I free-flap my way through life?
M_Jay: No! You said they were uncomfortable.
M_Jay: I wouldn’t dream of telling you how to dress.
Ru_Snack_XXXplores: You’re blushing right now, aren’t you? I need proof!
INCOMING VIDEO CALL WITH M_JAY
I rolled onto my stomach, kicking my feet up in the air. My insides were a happy, fluttery riot as I tapped to accept the call.
“Good evening,” he said, and yes, his face was pink. I pressed my lips together to try and suppress my smile, but it burst onto my face anyway.
“Hello stranger,” I purred. “You know, this is much more fun than the plans I just abandoned.”
A line formed between his brows. “I’m sorry, did I interrupt something important?”
I smirked, shaking my head. “It had already been thwarted twice by some punk kids downstairs who like to knock on my door and run away. It being the orgasm I was trying to give myself with the freebie from your ex-almost-fiancée.”
His eyes flickered with annoyance. Interesting.
“Cadence gave you a history lesson today, did she?”
“It was … educational.” A pang of anger shot through me at the memory. “But I have to admit, I encouraged it.”
“You did?” He seemed genuinely surprised by that.
I shrugged, unapologetic. “I’m interested in you.”
His face flushed a deeper shade of pink as I continued, “But I think I’ll go straight to the man himself for all things Henry Baxter from now on. Cadence is a biased source.”
His lips twisted, his hand coming onto the screen, a piece of gum disappearing into his mouth. “That she is.”
I could almost feel him shutting down. Clearly Cadence was a very sore spot for him. Anxious to keep conversation flowing, I blurted, “So … you think I should get married.”
He cleared his throat. “Specifically, I think that we should get married.”