Page 9 of Merry Christmas To Me
God, she made me sound boring. “I’m going to have to think about-”
“What’s there to think about?” she said, cutting me off. “The man is big enough to imply he’s big all over. He’s gorgeous as hell. His voice sounds like a shot of bourbon. And he told you that he wanted to have hot, heavy, dirty sex with you.”
“He did not say that,” I grumbled.
“He asked you on a date after he gave you a lesson on why men like to cum on their women,” she pointed out. “That’s pretty much the same thing.”
“Exactly,”I stressed. “Ontheirwomen. A fling does not make me his woman. So, I might be signing up for the same crap I got with Rodney and every guy before him.”
“Sia, there is no way someone who looks like that is delivering mediocre sex,” she replied. “It would go against the nature of God.”
I laughed. “You’re such a bad influence, Lily.”
“I’m a great influence,” she argued. “Live a little, friend. Have some goddamn fun.”
“I don’t know, Lily,” I mumbled.
“Well, I do,” she replied. “I bet if you go into this with your mind clear of the expectations, you’ll have the time of your life.”
“Meaning, no expectations,” I surmised.
“Exactly.” I could hear her sigh on the other end of the phone. “Just imagine, Sia. If you do this, you’ll be able to enjoy it for just the sex. It won’t matter what he does to you or you do to him. Since it’s not forever, who cares about opinions. Who cares if he thinks you’re the biggest slut on the planet-”
“I’m not.”
“-Who cares if he’s into freaky shit or you are? Hell, it won’t even matter if it ends up being the worst sex of your life. You’re walking away from him at the end of it all.”
“And if I end up running into him later in town?”
“Did you ever see him before that Friday night?”
“Well, no.”
“Brenner is a big enough town for you to be able to throw some caution to the wind, Sia,” she remarked. “And if it gets back to Rodney that you’re getting your world rocked by a six-foot-tall-as-hell muscular god, even better.”
Okay.
That was a good selling point.
“You say he went into the clinic to get tested after I left, right?”
“Yeah, that’s what he said.”
“So, his results will be back before the end of the week, right?”
“Yeah, I suppose.”
“I say you show up at his shop on Saturday and throw down the gauntlet.”
“I-wait. How do you know his shop is open on Saturdays?”
“I internet-stalked him on the drive to Satan’s house. And the only thing I could find were sites on his business, and he’s open on Saturdays until one.”
Well, alright, then.
