How in hells grace can I feel like I’m oversexed when I’m not having any sex whatsoever? My blood hummed around the clock lately, my thighs hot, making them ache, my breasts tender all the freaking time, my poor nipples constant pebbles and my lower abdomen is all clutchy as if prepared for receiving something large and pleasurable. It’s as though I’m having continuous sex without the actual sex. It’s bizarre and annoying because if I have all the symptoms of overuse of my lady bits then I sure as heck want the pay-out first.
Annoyed, I pack my bag for the day, throwing in two apples, you know, for nutrition shit, followed by two packages of cookies.
Sex gave me the munchies, was the excuse I was sticking to.
I needed all my wits about me today, and that included all the coffee and plenty of snacks.
I made the blunder of telling Noah of the weird interaction with Gray on the phone last night. First, he’d been eerily silent. And then. “He’s old.” He’d informed.
“I don’t know. Early forties isn’t that old these days.”
“Too old for you, kitten.”
“Age is but a number.”
He’d snorted. “Did he take you home in his buggy and horse? Did he ask your daddy’s permission to kiss you goodnight? Tell me, kitten, did he offer you a dowry?” the amusement laced his voice and slid into my ears so erotically I had to swallow a groan. The conversation went in the same vein for twenty minutes.
On my way to work he messaged.
KingOfManhattan: Did the aging lover ask you for a second date?
SouthernBelle: It wasn’t a date! Also, he’s my client.
KingOfManhattan. Office romance. Don’t let him bend you over any desks, kitten.
SouthernBelle: Why not????? I like desks. I’m also incredible with floors.
KingOfManhattan: Noted.
KingOfManhattan: Did he ask you out?
SouthernBelle: A lady never tells.
I didn’t confess I failed at picking up Gray’s flirting. I was a masochist to put in front of him another man in hopes it made him jealous. Instead my ploy backfired with Noah’s joking. I swallowed a gulp of Coke and got my ass into the elevator.
KingOfManhattan: He’s an ass.
KingOfManhattan: An ancient one at that.
SouthernBelle: Hush. He’s handsome. We call old distinguished nowadays. And rich and very charming. And he has a cheek dimple!
KingOfManhattan: Nothing good comes from the boss wanting you to take dictation…
SouthernBelle: Ha Ha! You speak from experience.
SouthernBelle: If I’m late home you know I’m doing overtime… for the boss ;-)
KingOfManhattan: ……
SouthernBelle: On my knees. Oh, yes, sir. Whatever you want, Sir. ;-)
KingOfManhattan: Come home!
SouthernBelle: Ha. Ha. I’ve arrived at work. Later, lion. Xx
Nothing more personal happened with Gray. He brought me coffee and we chatted for a few minutes, other than that it was strictly business. I didn’t know whether I was pleased or disappointed. It felt like yet again I’d let a decent guy slip through my fingers because of the yearning for another.
I was seriously getting sick of my own self.
But, but, but. There’s always a but, isn’t there?
But what if I was brave enough to risk that conversation. Would Noah tell me friction was friction, Sena and any mouth would do? That would be the reasonable answer. The most painful answer.
I chose the coward’s way out and pretended like all is okay.
I better buck my fucking ideas at some point today, because I was heading to Inferno Palace tonight for its grand re-opening. Noah bought his first strip club and I had a fist full of dollar bills to tuck into hot guys G-strings.
Not to mention my bestie would be there, naturally, looking mean and moody lord of the manor and my ovaries were already screaming little bitches in anticipation of seeing him.
Oh, boy. Today was going to be a bundle of computer wizardry and nerves.