Page 7 of Joel

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I laugh so rarely that I hardly recognize the sound leaving my throat. When was the last time a woman made me feel…anything? Fuck, I like this curvy beauty. I like her a lot.

Joel: Does neon orange offend you? I can take them off.

There are several beats with no response. No text bubble to indicate she’s typing one. I fear I’ve crossed a line. Hell, I’ve known this woman less than twelve hours. I’m sure she gets hit on all the fucking time, and here I go, one step away from being one of those assholes who sends her unsolicited dick picks.

I’m in the middle of typing out an apology when a text appears.

Kylie: Or I could come over and take them off of you myself.

I sit up straighter, certain I’m misreading that text. Or maybe I passed out the minute I got home and I’m dreaming this whole conversation.

Joel: Don’t say things you don’t mean, sweetheart.

Kylie: Would I offend your girlfriend if I showed up in a matching bikini?

My dick hardens fully now, the image of Kylie dressed in a skimpy bikini crawling into my hot tub and right onto my lap working me up. I’m also amused that she’s fishing for information.

Joel: Jealous?

Kylie: Nope.

Kylie: I just don’t believe in trespassing on someone else’s territory.

Hot and respectful.

I’m a fucked man.

Joel: No girlfriend.

Joel: And before you ask, no, I haven’t fucked anyone in my hot tub.

Kylie: Why not?

Joel: This is the first time I’ve ever used it.

Kylie: Is it new?

Joel: I’ve had it for three years.

Kylie: What? Really?

Joel: I’ve been busy.

Kylie: For 3 years???

Joel: Yeah…

Kylie: Well now you have to pick me up.

The steam of the hot tub makes it harder to keep my screen clear. I pull myself out of the water and grab a towel, already decided that I’m heading straight for the hotel. But because I enjoy this back and forth banter, I don’t immediately admit my plan.

Joel: I do?

Kylie: Yes.

Joel: Why?

Kylie: Because I’m going to be the first woman you fuck in that hot tub, Petty Officer Pierson.

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