Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 51427 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 257(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51427 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 257(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
But I didn’t even get to have that convo with her.
Now I’m left with unused cuffs. Good cuffs. Be a real shame to toss them into the trash. Maybe I can donate them to a charity for so-called perverts in need.
Or maybe…
Cuffs in hand, I leave my pad and head down the hall to knock on Myrtle’s door. When she answers, her wise eyes widen. “Hey, handsome. It’s a good thing you came by. I need a tall drink of water to reach the suitcase on my highest shelf.”
“Happy to help,” I say, then clear my throat, avoiding eye contact as I dangle the cuffs. “I was wondering if you might be able to give these a good home?”
Her eyes spark, and she grabs them faster than I haul in footballs. “I most certainly can. And I will put them to good use this weekend. I have a retreat,” she says, leading me to her hall closet.
“What kind of retreat?” I ask as I easily snag her roller bag from the top shelf.
“A Whipper Retreat. It’s a kink workshop. You only live once, as they say,” she says.
“Words to live by,” I reply.
I return to my condo, considering Myrtle’s words of wisdom as I flop onto my couch. I return to Ellie’s social feed, curious, so damn curious, about this sexy beauty.
Is she still the girl next door, sweet as vanilla? Or is she the kind of woman who likes to play?
I stare at the pic of her and her dog for another minute. Then I spot a reply to my…heart?
Oh, shit. I guess I hit like on her pic. Her reply is simple and far too tempting.
Hey, you…
Fuck screening her.
I send her a DM.
6
VERY BIG BINOCULARS
Gabe: Hey to you too…I’d say it’s been a while, but I’m pretty sure that was you in the purple halter top and jean shorts walking past me last night.
Ellie: Oooh, are you spying on me?
Gabe: Maybe I am. Want to test my spy skills?
Ellie: Absolutely. Can you tell me what I’m wearing right now?
Gabe: Pink. Lots of pink.
Ellie: Those are some very big binoculars, mister.
Gabe: Huge.
Ellie: So you saw me last night and didn’t even say hi, Gabe? Way to make a gal feel welcome in her new town.
Gabe: Should I send you a welcome basket? With fruits and candles and stuff?
Ellie: Hmm. Tell me more about this stuff.
Gabe: Decadent dark chocolate? Champagne? A fine wine?
Ellie: Stuff, please!
Gabe: Excellent. Now I know how to make you feel welcome.
Ellie: Well, that’s a start. ;)
Gabe: Noted. And last night, in my defense, the window at The Happiest Hours got in the way.
Ellie: Should have broken it down.
Gabe: Next time. But damn, your dog is cute. Also, those were some nice shorts, Ellie.
Ellie: Same to you…for the tattoos and stubble, that is. I thought that might have been you. Now I know it was.
Gabe: Who’s the spy now?
Ellie: Well, you’re not wearing a shirt at the moment, so I guess I am too.
Gabe: Are you stationed in the building across from mine, keeping watch on me?
Ellie: Do you want me to be?
Gabe: I don’t have much more to take off, so I suppose the answer is yes.
Ellie: If you were dressed, would the answer be no?
Gabe: Come to think of it, the answer would still be yes. By the way, I was going to ask if you’re living in Los Angeles now, but your social gave me the answer when I looked you up.
Ellie: I guess the jean shorts were memorable enough to go searching.
Gabe: The whole package was unforgettable, Ellie. And welcome to Los Angeles. I hope you and Gigi like it here.
Ellie: Nice move, remembering my dog’s name. Funny, I was looking you up this morning too.
Gabe: Oh yeah? Any reason in particular?
Ellie: I have my reasons. But why don’t you go first and tell me why you looked me up. Just the shorts?
Gabe: How about I tell you tonight? Any chance you’re free for dinner? Or drinks? Or a dog walk?
Ellie: Let’s start with a drink.
Gabe: Meet me at eight. Gin Joint is a new lounge bar in Venice. Great drinks, great vibe.
Ellie: Are jean shorts a requirement?
Gabe: Wear anything. Or nothing.
Ellie: Funny, I was going to say the same to you.
7
MY TEENAGE WET DREAM
Ellie
This is just drinks. I only want to prove I’m not a bad-boy magnet. And if this date with a certified good guy goes well, perhaps he can be my plus one for Aunt Tilly’s party, complete with apple pies, lemonade, and lawn croquet—in pairs, of course. Mom and her sisters love a good lawn party. If Gabe goes with me, that’ll keep Mom from hounding me about my taste in men.
Gabe’s like a mom shield. That’s all.
I check my reflection in the full-length mirror in my bedroom. Cotton-candy pink ribbed tank, a black distressed jean skirt, and zip-up ankle boots.