Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 87629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
I’ll be the best teacher you’ve ever had, sweetheart.
Hmm. Seems a little overconfident. Next…
We can learn from each other.
Since I basically know nothing…um…no. Next…
You’re drop-dead gorgeous, baby. I can’t wait to feel your lips around my hard cock.
What about teaching me anything? Sounds like he read a Lily Jade novel, or he just wants a blow job. Next…
I’ve been looking for a protégé. Will you be my bitch?
I’m no one’s bitch. Next…
On and on, and nothing strikes my fancy. Only then do I realize I’m only giving the profile photos a cursory look. Interesting. I’m not searching for the best-looking guy out there. I’m searching for the one who—
I pull up the next match.
This time? I take a look at the profile pic first. He’s wearing a black mask that covers his eyes and most of his cheeks. Not only that, the photo is black-and-white, so I can’t ascertain the color of his hair or his eyes.
I’m instantly intrigued.
You’re beautiful. And sexy. And interesting. I love classic literature and sushi and the sweetness of a cherry on my tongue. I love to scatter pink rose petals on the bed before making love. You say you want a teacher? I can teach you what I know, but are you ready? Because I like things dark. Dark and rough and sexy. I can take you places you never knew existed, and in those places, you will find pleasure like you’ve never known…though I fear you’re way too innocent for what I have in mind.
The sweetness of a cherry on my tongue. Is that a double entendre? Doesn’t matter. It gives me goose bumps either way. Seriously. Goose bumps actually skitter over my flesh.
Is this guy truly for real?
His profile name is simply Mr. Dark.
To me? He’s Mr. Dark and Sexy.
Mr. Dark and Sexy who can make a woman squirm with words alone.
And I am squirming. More action is going on between my legs at this moment than has in a long time.
When I say I lack experience, I’m not overexaggerating. I’m not even sure I’ve ever had a real orgasm. After the fumbling attempt with Tracy in college, I had a few dates here and there, but I stayed celibate until I was twenty-four. That was the year I dated Seamus Murphy for nearly a year. Seamus was a gorgeous red-haired Irishman who was a lot of fun to hang out with but didn’t have a lot of interest between the sheets. I found out why six months after we broke up. He’s now married to the love of his life—John Richards. I see the two of them around at the market every now and then, and even though I know it has nothing to do with me that his sexual orientation doesn’t include a person with a vagina, it still stings a little.
That’s about it. I’ve dated here and there, none of which ever amounted to anything. I’ve only been to bed with two men—an inept virgin and a closeted gay man.
So when I say I’m inexperienced? I’m not blowing smoke up anyone’s ass.
I’m sure as hell not ready for Mr. Dark and Sexy. He got that right. I’m innocent.
But you know what? I made a decision yesterday to be proactive, so proactive I will be.
Good morning, Mr. Dark. I’m intrigued by you and your offer, and I’d like to know more.
After considering several other things to say, I leave it at that and hit Send.
I’m about ready to check Lily’s socials when my computer dings with a response from Mr. Dark and Sexy.
Tonight. If you’re ready.
Tonight? It’s a work night. I rarely go out on weeknights. It’s not like I have girls to hang out with. I don’t have an Isabella or a Gigi of my own. All I have is Jackson. He’s all I’ve ever needed—in more ways than one.
I rise and pace around my small apartment. I pour myself another cup of coffee, take one sip, and then set it on the counter. I’m already on edge. The last thing I need is more caffeine.
A pinball seems to be ricocheting over every part of my insides. My nipples are hard, and the tickle between my legs is so intense, I can’t stand it.
The only other times I’ve felt this way? During my fantasies about Jackson.
But those are just that—fantasies.
This could be a reality.
Sure, I fantasize about Jackson. I fantasize about him doing to me all the things I read about in Lily’s books. I fantasize about him doing the things to me I’ve seen the few times I’ve watched pornography.
Still, that doesn’t mean I have any experience. My experience—other than Tracy and Seamus—is all imaginary.
Before I can overthink further, I sit back down at the table in front of my laptop.
Okay. Tonight it is.
My finger drops on the key, hitting Send.