Page 4 of Seductive Scoundrel

I haveno idea why I replied to that dick pic this morning. I mean, as far as dicks go, it’s impressive, but I have no clue who the guy is. He clearly believes we met at some party, but my guess is that whoever he thinks I am gave him the wrong number. I used to do it all the time, too. Not nice, but sometimes easier in the moment than saying a straight out - no.

Too bad for her because the guy is seriously packing.

Maybe that’s why I answered the text, or maybe it’s because Mr. Big Dick caught me at the wrong time – or the right time, depending on how you look at it. I was alone in my closet-sized apartment, contemplating eating a bag of potato chips for breakfast and watching another series on Netflix. Not the most exciting way to spend my time and sadly, it’s become a pattern.

Moving to NYC a few months ago seemed like a great idea, an exciting idea when the job offer came. And then I got here. My new position as a financial auditor for Tempo Bank of America (TBA) has kept me so busy that I haven’t had time to meet anyone outside of the people whose financial records I’m dissecting. Needless to say, that doesn’t make me very popular or lead to many – or any – dates.

And then I cyber met Mr. Big Dick and, suddenly, my life isn’t quite so boring.

I have zero intention of meeting him for dinner on Saturday, but it’s fun to think about him scrambling to pull a reservation out of his ass.

Not that I’m completely sure he did. I called Masa to confirm, but they don’t have any reservations under the name Dean. I’m sure that if I show up, he’ll spin a story about how our reservation was lost and then suggest we eat at some greasy spoon.

I told myself I wasn’t going to think about him anymore today, but when my phone buzzes, I rush to grab it – then hate myself a little. I’ve never been the kind of woman who runs for a man. But something about Mr. Big Dick makes me want to.

Dean: Hey, mystery lady. How was your day?

I sit on my futon, staring at my phone for a full four minutes before I allow myself to answer. Yes, it’s petty and juvenile – and I don’t usually play games with guys – but then again, this interaction is just a game to him. I know full well that he intends to bang me and then forget I exist.

Dick pic guys always do.

Mia: Just finished working out. How’s your day?

Liar! I just finished eating a chocolate bar as I poured over numbers from TBA’s latest victim. Thank God for a high metabolism and a city that requires me to walk a million miles every day.

Dean: Show me.

Mia: What?

Dean: I want to see you in your workout gear.

Mia: I thought you wanted to see me naked and underneath you.

Dean: That, too, but for now, I’ll take you in a little spandex. And I’m hoping it’s very little.

Crap! I pull my thousand-year-old Goo Goo Dolls concert tee over my head.

Mia: Glutton for punishment, are you?

Dean: I thought you’d be better at following orders or do you just like giving them?

Mia: I can do both. It depends on my mood.

I text while shimmying my sweatpants down my legs, thanking the stars that I usually wear a sports bra and matching cotton panties. Not super sexy, but comfortable and workout-worthy.

Dean: You realize that it’s rude to refuse when I’ve asked so nicely. I usually don’t.

Mia: I just took my spandex off.

Dean: Even better.

Mia: In the interest of fair exchange, what do I get?

Dean: What do you want?

Mia: Surprise me. But! It has to be of equal or greater value.

Dean: What are you, a BOGO saleswoman?

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