Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 148962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 745(@200wpm)___ 596(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 745(@200wpm)___ 596(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
When he receives the message, he starts typing, then pauses several times before finally sending a response.
Eros415: Is that an invitation?
BiteSizedGabi: Yes.
Eros415: Maybe if you’re a good girl this week.
BiteSizedGabi: You’re really not coming over?
Eros415: Show me what I’m missing.
BiteSizedGabi: What do you mean?
Eros415: OOTD.
BiteSizedGabi: Have you been stalking my Instagram, too?
Eros415: I’m waiting…
I roll over onto my back and hold the phone up, angling it to get a shot of my outfit. Today I’m wearing a pink plaid mini dress with a cropped knit cardigan, white tights, and sneakers. I snap the pic and send it to him.
Eros415: You’re a walking distraction.
BiteSizedGabi: I’m not sure if that’s a good thing? Btw, you never sent me a GIF.
A minute passes before he replies, attaching a GIF of a masked man chasing a woman through the forest until he captures her.
Eros415: This what you want, little shark?
A shiver coasts down my spine as I watch it again. He couldn’t have chosen a better depiction of what I’d described when I told him all the things I want to try.
BiteSizedGabi: Enthusiastic yes.
Eros415: You won’t get scared?
I know he’s probably referencing the way I shut down the night we met. That happens in traumatic situations or when I get too overwhelmed. But I’m drawn to the idea of fear play because it’s structured. We’ve talked through what I want and what my limits are. So even if it’s unscripted, there are still parameters.
BiteSizedGabi: I’ll get scared, but that’s the point. As long as I know it’s you under the mask, I’ll be fine.
A few minutes pass, and I wait anxiously, wondering if he’ll turn me down. Things were tense between us last night as we skirted around the subject of Romeo, but I’m not the only one with secrets.
When I asked Eros why he chose his username, he deflected, questioning my interpretation instead. I wasn’t sure if it alluded to the contrast between Eros and Agape, or Eros and Psyche. The second possibility makes me think there must be someone in his past too, even if it never evolved into an intimate relationship.
The thought that he might love someone else makes me slightly nauseous, so I understand why it bothers him that I have a past with Romeo. But either way, it shouldn’t matter. What we are now is all we can ever be.
When he finally texts me back, I’m relieved until I see his message.
Eros415: I have some homework for you.
BiteSizedGabi: Okay?
Eros415: Take the rest of the week to think about it. Give me three reasons why you want me to be your first. Real reasons, not what you think I want to hear. Be brutally honest.
I stare at the screen, stroking Beppe’s fur as I consider it. Truthfully, I don’t know if he’ll even want me if I’m brutally honest with him. But I think that’s the point.
He’s not in this for immediate gratification. He needs it to mean more to me, and I can’t figure out why. As much as I want that too, it also scares me—because it can’t mean more.
BiteSizedGabi: I’ll think about it. Does this mean I won’t see you this week?
Eros415: You can see me anytime you want, Gabi. All you have to do is call me.
His assurance makes me feel better, and I’m tempted to do it right now. But I need to organize my thoughts, and I really should work on my project.
Eros415: Send me your POTN before you go to bed.
BiteSizedGabi: My what?
Eros415: Pajamas of the night.
I smile and shake my head.
BiteSizedGabi: You first.
A minute passes before a photo comes through. My gaze roams over the long, muscular legs sprawled across the bed—all the way up to his black briefs. The image is cropped, but I can just make out a hint of ink dipping beneath the waistband. And below that, the thick, hard outline of his cock.
“Dear universe.” I close my eyes and clasp my hands together. “Whatever I did to deserve this, thank you.”
BiteSizedGabi: Some morally gray god made you in his image.
Eros415: Deviant.
Eros415: Have your answers ready by Friday.
BiteSizedGabi: So bossy.
Eros415: You haven’t seen anything yet.
The weight of those words settles between my thighs, and I already feel neglected knowing I won’t see him this week.
BiteSizedGabi: I’ll be here if you’d like to demonstrate.
Eros415: I’ll demonstrate when you’ve done your assignment.
BiteSizedGabi: Fine.
I send him a pouting cat emoji and stretch out while I let my mind wander. It’s only a few minutes later that something occurs to me.
Why was he in bed in the middle of the afternoon?
The rest of the week passes slowly. After I ignored their demand to meet, Nate’s friends have been turning up everywhere. It could be a coincidence, but it doesn’t feel like it. I think they’re trying to send me a message.
Everywhere I go, people whisper and stare. I can’t even escape it in class, where Bethany and her friends make a point by paying me extra attention. Part of me hopes that if I ignore them, they’ll eventually leave me alone, but I’m not so sure.