Page 28 of Our Shattered Pieces
“The tireless work you do, Molly Cavanaugh,” I said kindly, my hands still warm on her legs.
She smiled, setting her phone on her lap. “But so rewarding.”
“How could it not be?” I replied. “You help countless number of people.”
She winced a bit. “Not everyone appreciates the way I help them when it comes to the charities I work with, though.”
“How so?”
“I don’t just hand over the donation checks and walk away,” she said. “I make sure the money is used for what it’s supposed to be used for.” She shrugged. “Sometimes those with less than altruistic intentions don’t like that.”
“I bet.”
Silence descended after that, and rather than let things get awkward, I carefully stood up while I supported her legs before setting them back down on the couch. Grinning down at her, I said, “Well, now that you’re safe, the plant is replaced, and all is right with the world again, I think I’ll head out.” She made a move to get up, but I stopped her. “Don’t get up. I know my way out.”
She gave me a grateful smile. “Thanks again, Grayson.”
I smiled back. “No problem, Molly.” I turned away from the beauty and made my way out of the condo. I had my phone in my hand before I even hit the elevator.
What in the fuck was Ques?ionable.com?
Chapter 21
Molly~
Warm, well, and snuggled in my own bed, I pulled out my phone to check my Ques?tionable.com account.
A month ago, I’d been doing the porn thing, trying to get my imaginary fix, and an ad had popped up for the site. Curiosity had me clicking the link, though I knew the risks. My orgasm had been subpar, and I’d been feeling the letdown pretty hard.
When I had clicked the link, my first thought was that it was a hookup site, because why wouldn’t it be? They were all hookup sites. Straight forward with no pretense about wanting to get to know someone better.
But I was wrong.
Oh, it was a hookup site, for sure, but not like any I’d ever heard of before. This one had specifics that were…well, rather specific. From a woman’s measurements to the most unimaginable kink.
Intrigued, I had created an account, and had been blown away with how dedicated the site was to helping you find exactly what you were looking for. If you clicked a header, it brought up another set of options, that brought up another set up options, that brought up another set of options, until your every specification was met. However, all the headers were of unconventional sexual categories after you got past your appearance preferences.
I was always a tall, dark, and handsome kind of girl, so I had selected my appearance specifications to give me dark hair, unspecific eye color, six-foot or taller, and fit, but not muscle-bound. I liked my men with six-pack abs just like the next girl, but I drew the line at so muscular, he no longer had a neck.
As for everything else, I had answered honestly, and had sugarcoated nothing. And because everything had been so detailed, it had actually taken me two hours to finally finish the profile of what I was looking for. And since creating the account a month ago, I’ve had five matches that have reached out to me, but I’ve yet to meet any of them.
The problem with what I was looking for was that I understood the dangers of what I was asking for. I wanted someone to basically degrade me in the bedroom but be observant enough not to cross the line. It was a lot to ask, and I knew this.
And while I knew all about the warnings of meeting someone from a dating website, it was no more dangerous than meeting someone at a bar or a party. People act as if women had never been attacked or taken advantage of before the internet came along.
Logging onto my account, I finally checked my incoming messages from earlier today. When I had received the first notification, I had quickly erased it from my screen, a little paranoid that Grayson might see it or had seen it when he had passed me my phone.
It also hadn’t escaped my attention that Grayson Lewis ticked off all the appearance boxes, and a lot of the sexual boxes as I’d been choosing for my selections. With dark brown hair, those blue eyes, and that big dick, if the man had no problem calling me a dirty slut, I’d marry him.
Seriously.
And if not marriage, at least a few more rolls in the hay. Maybe a once-a-month stress reliever. Or every other weekend. Or every weekend. Or every other day would work, too.
Laughing to myself, I pulled up my messages, and I found I had two from earlier today from the profile JustEnoughKink.
JEK:Your profile sounds perfect, SearchingForPossibilites.
That was another thing with the site. No pictures. In an attempt to ensure safety for its members, we weren’t allowed to upload images onto the site. If you matched with someone, it was up to you if you wanted to send photos through different means.
