A Perfect Ten by Linda Kage

  Before I could stop myself, I dug my phone from my backpack, brought up my new Google number and tapped out a message.

  Maybe we should call off tomorrow night, I wrote and pushed send before I could stop myself. A pinch formed in my chest, and suddenly I wanted to cry. Was I really never going to share another intimacy with him again?

  My phone dinged, and I drew in a shuddered breath. Half praying he was going to beg me to meet him anyway, I opened the message and stared blankly at his response.

  Maybe, was all he said.

  Maybe? Wait, what? He was supposed to want me no matter what. Why didn’t he want me? Something was definitely wrong with him. Or maybe I was destined to be rejected by him in whichever identity I used.

  I didn’t like that. Ire rose inside me. So why don’t YOU want to meet? I demanded to know.

  Why don’t YOU? he shot back.

  I asked first.

  Well, you started this entire fucking discussion, so you have to answer first.

  Damn it. I gritted my teeth. I don’t know. Where do you want me to start? I feel cheated, I guess. They say you only do it in the dark and from behind. But what if I want more? What if I want to run my hands up your chest and into your hair? Or dig my nails into your ass while you pound into me. I want your breath, hot and heavy, in my ear whispering all these dirty things while our chests bump together.

  Oh my God. Why did I keep typing this shit to him? Probably because I just couldn’t help myself. My fingers suddenly had word vomit.

  I want to roll you onto your back and crawl onto your lap, and just...ride you until you come inside me. But I’ll never be able to do that, will I? If you only do it from behind, I mean. I’ll never get to face you and kiss you senseless when you’re inside me. I’ll never get to go down on you. I’ll never get to do ALL KINDS of things I’m craving to do to you.

  What I told him was all true, but it was just a smokescreen for what I really craved. Most of all, I was upset because I’d never get to have a real relationship with him.

  My phone dinged, causing my pulse to lurch. I was almost afraid to read his message. I hate to break it to you, sweetheart. But whichever THEY you’ve been talking to are wrong. I do it in ALL kinds of positions. Your worries of NEVER are completely unfounded.

  Fudge nuggets. Now I was picturing him in...all kinds of positions, especially the ones I’d named. My breathing picked up. I was once again tempted to tell him tomorrow night was back on.

  I sank down onto the first bench I passed and clamped my thighs together because I was wet and pulsing.

  What about the dark? I hedged in my next text. Do you do it with the lights on too, then?

  As I recall, it was YOUR idea to keep the lights off for this next round. Do you want them on?

  No. I don’t.

  Well then, princess, maybe now I’M feeling cheated. Maybe I want to watch your titties bounce or your pussy all wet and stretched while it’s holding on to my cock. Maybe I want to know what color your eyes are, or your hair, or if your cheeks get flushed when you’re aroused, if you have pink nipples or brown.

  I groaned and bent at the waist, my thighs clamped so hard together I was a little afraid I might not get them pulled apart again.

  You can never see me, I told him.

  Why not? he instantly flipped back.

  I swallowed and glanced up at the trees overhead. For some reason the buds of newly blooming leaves gave me the courage to answer honestly. I’m afraid you won’t like what you see.

  Impossible. You felt beautiful to me.

  A lump formed in my throat, and I couldn’t swallow it down. I loved what he said, and yet, I didn’t love knowing he would write something so sweet and pure...to another woman. A hard laugh blurted from my chest because I realized I was freaking jealous of myself.

  This was getting more and more ridiculous by the moment.

  Needing to keep him from saying anything else that might make me jealous of myself, I said, So your turn. Why don’t you want to meet? Did I cause a trigger last time?

  Trigger? He was obviously clueless, which made me smile and instantly loosen my tense stomach muscles.

  You told me about your sister’s death, I reminded him. Maybe you didn’t like exposing so much of yourself to me. Or maybe you didn’t like how I kept calling you Oren. Maybe you let me get too emotionally close and that made you uncomfortable.

  I don’t know why I said any of that. Anything he responded with would probably hurt. If he told me he hadn’t felt anything for me during our encounter, I’d die. If he said he’d liked how he’d opened up to me, I’d get jealous of myself...again.

  But instead of either of those responses, he said, You’re totally whack.

  As I laughed and shook my head, he added, But that’s okay. I dig crazy chicks. I don’t mind that you’re a complete stalker or that you probably even know what color my panties are right now. I think your obsession with me is hot.

  I laughed again, this one bordering on an outright giggle. You’re not wearing panties, I wrote, because they were probably boxers or briefs, or oh yum, my favorite: boxer briefs.

  Damn, you’re good.

  Reading his response made my grin widen, but a second later, I sobered. So if my creeper traits aren’t scaring you off, you don’t mind that I want our meeting in total darkness, and I didn’t hit any triggers, then why were you so quick to call tomorrow night off?

  Baby, you’re the one who called it off.

  I rolled my eyes. Was he really that dense? But you agreed IMMEDIATELY.

  Oh I’m SO sorry, was I supposed to beg you to let me back into your pussy again?

  With a frown, I pounded out my response. YES, DAMN IT!

  Jesus, fine, he shot back. Please, my mysterious midnight visitor who feels like heaven around my cock, would you be so kind as to let me back into your pussy again?

  Oh my God. What a douche. Fuck you.

  That’s the plan, sweetheart. I want to fuck you until you can’t walk straight the next day. So are we on or not?

  That would be a hell no. You don’t want me.

  You are definitely a confusing fucking woman. FUCK! I do want you. Okay? I want you, and THAT’S the problem. I want you, but I want someone else, and I’m all fucked up in the head, feeling like I’m cheating on you both, when honestly I don’t really have either of you, do I? So any kind of cheating would be literally impossible, wouldn’t it?

  I pulled back, staring at his words in a strange kind of shock. But he’d just admitted to wanting...someone. Was it me? Immediately, I wondered if it could be. Zoey seemed to think he cared about me. Occasionally between all his foulmouthed sluttiness, I caught a flicker of interest, but...I’d never been completely certain.

  My mind raced. Could I actually make him feel guilty about sleeping with me because he thought he was betraying...well, me? Damn, that was as messed up as me feeling jealous of myself.

  Are you saying you’re currently sleeping with another woman? I asked, purposely misunderstanding him, because I needed to gain more intel here. But I think the question irritated him a little.

  Jesus! No. I just TOLD you, you’re the only person I’m fucking right now. I’ve never fucked the girl I want. I will never fuck her. I can’t.

  My breath caught in my chest, but holy shit. It was me. He was talking about me. He had to be!

  She’s forbidden to you? I pressed.

  Bingo. And when you came along, in the dark with no name, no face, it was easy to picture HER.

  And...here came more jealousy of myself. Or—if I was wrong, and he was as crazy for another woman as I was for him—then here came a load of jealousy for that fucking bitch who stole his heart, whoever she was.

  YOU DICK! You imagined you were with ANOTHER woman when you were with me? I bit my lip, not really as upset as I made the message sound, but I had to know how he would answer that.

  Fuck. I really am losing it. I cannot believe I admitted that to you. Can you pret
end you never read that? Please.

  Okay, that wasn’t exactly an apology, but he did sound contrite. I wasn’t sure what to make of it all, so I asked, What’s her name?

  That would be a hell to the big fucking no, I will never tell you her name.

  Again, I wasn’t sure how to feel. If he was talking about me, I was pretty smug that he felt so protective. But if he was referring to someone else, I wanted to bawl. “Bet I can make you cry it out when you come inside me tomorrow night.”

  Holy Christ. Why had I said that?

  Maybe because I was more certain that he’d cry out my name than someone else’s, and oh...my poor ovaries. The idea of him saying my name when he came was more than I could take.

  So we’re back on for tomorrow night? Oren asked with his next message. Even after everything I just confessed to you?

  I bit my lip. Was I saying that? Oh, hell. Yes, I was. Thinking he might want me that much was impossible to resist. So I answered, I can handle knowing you’re picturing me as someone else if you can handle always taking me in the dark.

  That’s messed up.

  Thought you just said you liked crazy. Truth is—though it was completely a lie—I want you again, and I’m willing to listen to you cry out another woman’s name to get you to fuck me like you did on Friday.

  Damn it, now I’m hard.

  Well I’ve been soaking wet for a while, so I have no sympathy.

  Tomorrow night can’t come soon enough. Are we really doing this again?

  We’re both fully aware of what we’re walking into now, so sure, why not?

  Sweet. Lick you later, baby.

  I shook my head and slipped my phone back into my bag. I loved talking to him, whether it was arguing, our strange version of flirting, or just commenting about the weather. Any byplay with Oren Tenning left me exhilarated. I swear it was his presence in my life that had brought me back to life after Sander had left me pregnant and alone. And quite frankly, I was going to gobble up any chance to be with him that I could steal. I craved the vivacity he put in me that much.

  Someone stick a fork in me. I was crispy-fried and well done. Lounging on the mattress beside my midnight visitor, I blew out a breath and flopped my arm over my forehead as my breathing finally settled and evened out. But... “Fuck,” I breathed out. That had been...yeah. Mind officially blown.

  She’d remembered her threat to sniff test my dick, because she’d attacked me first thing after she’d walked into my room and shoved me against the door before yanking at my pants and going down on me. I guess I must’ve passed muster, because the blowjob that followed left me so weak-kneed I almost couldn’t carry her to the bed after that to perform my own sniff test.

  God, I loved the scent of a woman’s arousal. And the taste. And the softness of her inner thigh against my cheek.

  Now she lay snuggled against my side in the dark. I closed my eyes and kept my lashes fused together, because it wasn’t like I could see anything anyway in this pitch black darkness. Then I just enjoyed the quiet contentment of the moment.

  Curling against my side, she rested her head on my shoulder. Her breathing had also slowed, but her leg sliding over my thigh was still warm and damp. Just the way I liked to leave my woman: hot and sweaty and well ridden.

  A triumphant smile curved up my lips as I palmed her hip to keep her attached to me. Damn, we were good at this together. Everything that had been bugging me yesterday and forcing me to stress draw cowered off into a distant part of my brain. All I could focus on was how amazing my post-coital glow was.

  I expected her to start praising me any second. But what I heard sounded a lot more like, “Yuck. Eww. What is that?”

  Wasn’t quite the, Wow, you’re the best I’ve ever had, I’d been expecting.

  “Huh?” My cocky grin died a tragic, disappointed death. Stunned by any kind of negative review, I whipped onto my side so I could face her, even though I couldn’t read her expression in the dark. “What the hell are you talking about? That was fucking awesome.”

  When I reached her, she was arching her back off the mattress and wiggling as if trying to escape something under her.

  “Wha...eww. Oren Michael Tenning, have you been eating crackers in bed?”

  “What? No.” She knew my middle name too? I wasn’t surprised. “What kind of dork eats crackers in bed?” I sniffed at her nerve for even suggesting such a pathetic idea. “They were potato chips. Cool Ranch Doritos.” Because I was a cool guy.

  She let out a big, disappointed sigh as if she thought I was hopeless. “Lovely. I have cool ranch crumbs coating my butt right now.”

  “Mmm.” That actually sounded hot. “The better to lick off you, my dear.”

  I reached for her to do just that, but she swatted my hand away, grumbling about the crumbs. As she sat up, I could hear her dusting herself clean, so I reached over to blindly slap some of the crumbs off the mattress.

  “There,” I offered as valiantly as possible. “All gone now.”

  Her answer was a disbelieving sniff. “You need to clean these sheets before I visit you again.”

  I was so busy drifting off into a daze, thinking about the phrase, “visit you again,” and liking the idea of more encounters with her, I rattled off one of my habitual Ten answers. “What? And give up all the slut cooties I’ve accumulated over the years?” I even gave an audible gasp and set my hand against my heart, because fuck, that’s just how I rolled.

  She stilled. When I actually felt a cool draft waft off her, I realized, shit, I’d just fucked up big time.

  “Please do not tell me you’ve had other women on this bed since the last time you cleaned your sheets.”

  Double, triple and quadruple fuck.

  “Um...sure.”

  “Oh, sick. Oren!” She started to climb off the side. I knew if she left now, there was a good chance she wouldn’t be coming back, so I dove after her and tackled her under me.

  “No. Wait.”

  She growled as I rolled her onto her back. Then she shoved at my shoulders. “Get off me. Now! I can’t believe you—”

  I kissed her silent.

  I have no idea how I knew that would work, but shit, it actually did. She accepted the thrust of my tongue and even kissed me back. Then she went and wrapped her legs around my waist and dug the heels of her feet into the base of my back as her nails sank into my shoulders.

  I broke off the kiss, panting hard, and pressed my forehead to hers. “Don’t go. Not yet.”

  Her answer was just as breathless. “Why not?”

  “Well...” Shit. I had nothing. Talking from the top of my head, I said, “One. You know I’m an asshole. I don’t...I mean, I’m not ever going to think of shit like...like cleaning sheets and wiping away all the past women. I’ll probably always be inconsiderate and...and...you know me! You’re my stalker. You know my work schedule, how to get into my cell phone, my middle name, what kind of fucking soap I use. Don’t tell me you don’t know what an ass I am, too.”

  She seemed reluctant at first, but she finally said, “Okay, you have a point.”

  “Damn right, I do. And two...”

  “Two?” she prompted when I didn’t come up with a two fast enough.

  “Shit. You know me. I’m an asshole.” Really, why did I need a two when one seemed to cover it all?

  She laughed, and my pulse settled some. “Don’t go,” I said more softly and reached out to find her cheek. Her breath caught and it caused something massive to shift in my chest. “Stay.” I leaned in to nuzzle my nose up the side of her neck. “Just a little longer.”

  “Why?” Her voice was raspy and soft; it caused my thoroughly exhausted dick to stir. “You’ve already had your way with me.”

  I didn’t tell her I was ready to have it again. There was a vulnerable little hitch in her voice, as if she thought sex was the only thing we had going, when actually it was supposed to be. But I didn’t like thinking my soft-skinned, dirty-minded midnight visitor was h
urt.

  I took my mouth off her delectable throat. Turning onto my side, I faced her, resting an elbow on my pillow and my cheek on my hand. With my free hand, I found her hip and began to crawl my fingers up her side. “Let’s do something, then. What do you want to do?”

  “I don’t know.” The question seemed to take her by surprise. “We could maybe...talk, I guess.”

  “We’re talking right now,” I reminded her. When I leaned in and tried to skim my mouth up her jawline, because I just couldn’t stay away, she turned her face to the side and evaded me.

  With a groan-like growl, I buried my nose in her shoulder. “What do you want to talk about?” I asked, my voice muffled against her amazing-smelling skin.

  “I don’t know.”

  I laughed a little derisively. Of course, she wouldn’t know. “Okay, fine.” I lifted my face and stared through the dark in her direction for a good five seconds, my mind completely blank of anything to say.

  My wandering hand finally found her breasts. When her nipples hardened under my touch, my cock went from half hard to full-on ready for deep penetration.

  I swallowed a moan and shifted my hips back so she wouldn’t know how aroused I was. But I couldn’t stop myself from circling her nipple with my finger, because the damn thing kept taunting me with its erectness, making my mouth water and my tongue tingle until it wanted to do nothing else but lick, and lick, and lick...

  She drew in a breath and arched her breasts out to me, loving the attention. I knew she was getting wet, and it made my erection throb for release.

  “How old were you when your breasts started to grow?” I asked.

  She let out a couple pants before she hauled off and slugged me in the shoulder. “Damn it, Oren.” She jerked up into a sitting position. “That’s not the kind of conversation I was talking about, and you know it.”

  “Well, then you better pick the topic,” I snapped back, sitting up too, “because all I can think about is sucking those hard, succulent berries into my mouth and rolling my tongue across them, and then jerking your legs up and diving that same tongue as deep into your pussy as it’ll go.”