Page 52 of Desperately Seeking Kitty

I soon found out that finishing the edit would actually prove to be the easiest part of my day.

In record time, I finished the last pages I had left and sent them over to Mag. He texted back almost immediately.

Mag

About time, Armitage. Not like you to be riding a deadline.

Kitty

Not like me to be getting some dick either, but I guess that voodoo love spell I did last month actually worked.

Wait, what? I’m calling.

That was entirely unnecessary. I wasn’t into the phone. I’d talked to Clint against all sense and look where that had led.

To about a zillion orgasms?

Yeah, I couldn’t really fault that series of events.

I picked up on the second ring. “Mag, this isn’t like you.”

“I’m not the one getting random dick.”

“If you were, I’d allow you to discuss it via text.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not you. Who is this dick?”

“Do we have to do this? I’d prefer if we keep things professional.”

“Our daily work conversations involve sex acts, discussing manscaping stock photos, and if there’s too much crease in those jeans for the prudes at Amazon to let through. What part of that is professional?”

“I guess you have a point. Look, it’s not a thing. He’s just a guy.”

“You never leave your apartment. How did you meet a guy?”

He wasn’t wrong. I did leave it, just not often. “Online.”

He groaned. “Don’t tell me you turned to Tinder. I figured that bullet I sent you after you edited that toy biz book would satisfy your curiosity for a while.”

I tended not to think about the fact that Magnus sent me my bullet for purposes of research. I’d never even told him I didn’t know a thing about sex toys, but I supposed I must’ve sounded as clueless about what I was editing as I felt, because he’d sent it to me as a business deduction.

Sex toys as a work expense. My job was wild. And I loved it.

“He stole it, the bastard. But he returned it right after,” I added hurriedly when Mag growled.

I wasn’t used to dealing with growling men. Clint had very nearly growled over Mag too. Somehow I felt like a juicy piece of meat. It was oddly titillating, sure. But was this really my life?

I had to be dreaming.

“Oh, really.” Mag’s voice sharpened. “Speaking of keeping things professional, you sure didn’t object when I sent you that bullet, now did you?”

TWELVE

I wasspeechless for a full minute.

This was why I stuck mostly with interaction via screen or phone. I didn’t understand people, so minimizing contact with them was best.

Clearly.

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