Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
He uses the damn jets.
The man is an evil genius.
After I sneak upstairs, shower, and dress, I do it. I set up my equipment, I call Meredith, and I record an episode right there.
Our second episode about Romeo.
The tale of the strange weekend getaway.
The story of the skilled sex worker.
The secrets I'm technically allowed to spill.
And I spill every one of them.
Chapter Thirty
Romeo
Cynthia stands in the hallway, in one of her oversized linen suits, a puzzled look on her face. "What's happening?" She motions to the door to Ivy's room.
"Are you listening to my girlfriend masturbate?" I shake my head with faux disapproval. She's not the type to eavesdrop. And she's not a voyeur. Not as far as I know. "Naughty."
"No. Unless she has that condition where you laugh when you come." She moves a little closer to the door.
I follow.
Sure enough, Ivy is cracking up. It's not the rich, throaty laugh I know. It's a gut-busting, full-on set of the giggles.
Like she'll never stop laughing.
"She's probably talking about my sexual abilities," I tease.
Cynthia smiles. "Please, Rome. Your number was written in the girl’s bathroom in high school. ‘For an orgasm call Romeo.’”
One of my high school girlfriends did write that. It only stayed up for a few days. Then teachers discovered it, removed it, and called me into the office to discuss appropriate use of language. Though I’m not sure what I was supposed to do. It’s not like I wrote it. "That's only because other high school boys didn't know about cunnilingus.”
She nods true.
"Maybe it went to my head." I tap. "And she finds it hilarious."
"I'm sure…" She stares at the door with curiosity in her eyes.
It is curious. But I like it too much to care. Ivy laughing until she can't breathe. That's almost as good as Ivy coming until she can't breathe.
Maybe it's better.
In a certain way.
Fuck. I must be in too deep if I'd rather make the woman laugh than come. But then again, I'm far better at making women come. It's not a challenge these days.
"Does it matter?" I ask.
Cynthia looks at me funny. "Does it matter, if your girlfriend thinks you're a terrible lay?"
"Does it matter why she's laughing?"
She steps away from the door. "Don't you want to know who she's talking to?"
I do. And I don't, too. I like the image of her laughing with a friend. Especially if it's about me.
But I don't want to hear every word, exactly. I like not knowing. I like the freedom to imagine whatever I want.
"Mystery is what keeps passion alive." It's an automatic response. A cliche. But the second the words fill the air, I know they're true.
"Isn't that what people say when they can't be honest with each other?" Cynthia asks.
"You live with Daniel," I say.
She nods obviously.
"Do you feel more passionate, seeing his laundry?" I ask.
"Sorta, but actually… can I talk to you about something?" she asks. "About us, actually."
Is there an us? "Sure." I play cool. "Is it a big deal?"
"No, I just… I never apologized for when we were kids and I, and we…" She clears her throat. "I didn't realize it then, but I was using you, to try something out. I knew I only had eyes for Danny, and I… I'm sorry. That was fucked of me."
"It's cool. It was good for my ego to deal with a little rejection."
She smiles. "You ever tell him?"
I shake my head.
"Would you mind if I did?"
"No." I don't know if she should, but I trust her instincts. I wonder what Ivy suggested. If this came from her. Which parts of it did. But I trust Ivy too. She wants the best for Cynthia. "If you think it will bring you together."
She nods. "How is everything with Ivy?"
"What did she say to you?"
"Not much. She's secretive."
She is that. "I like her. A lot. But I'm not sure if she's ready for all this."
Cynthia nods. "She did say the sex is good."
"And…"
Cynthia moves away from the hall, releasing her interest in Ivy, shifting it to me. "We used to talk about this kind of stuff, you know."
Yeah. Before we kissed. Before she stated dating my brother. "I'm not sure I want reciprocal information. I don't need details on my brother's skills."
"Please, you'd eat up every word."
"I would. But that doesn't mean I want them."
She laughs. "Well, I'm about to be a married woman. You know what that means? One dick, for the rest of my life. So, I want details. I want dirty stories. Whatever you've got."
How can I be honest without sharing everything? "There was a woman. Before Ivy. A regular."
Her brow furrows in confusion.
Right. That's not how we refer to people in our lives. "In my rotation."
"You had a harem?" she asks.
I suppose that's one way to put it. "Women who enjoy my company, who's company I enjoy, without any expectations of the future from either of us."