About Last Night (About Last Night #1)(8)
My phone shook in my hand.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: RE: Mmmm…brownie points.
Quinn,
Gah. I guess we had to get to that eventually, didn’t we?
Well, there’s not a lot to that answer. In total, I’ve dated two men. They were both in college and didn’t amount to much. There had been kissing and groping, a bit of fondling. One of those men treated my breasts like a wind-up toy, while the other thought squeezing my nipples really hard would get me going. It didn’t. It hurt like a bitch.
The first guy entered me with his fingers and thought shaking me up like a milkshake machine would make me come; the second tried going down on me.
I fell asleep.
I’ve touched a mangina. Never seen one up close though. I’d always insisted on darkness when doing such sinful things.
That’s about it.
Yikes. Now that I think about it, it’s kind of pitiful. Sorry.
Okay. My questions to you are:
1) What is your favorite sport to play?
2) Or, What is your favorite sport to watch?
Pathetically yours,
Maya
I winced multiple times through reading her email. The two men she’d been with sounded like a couple lady-killers. Poor girl. No wonder she never tried to lose her virginity. She likely thought sex was nothing special. It didn’t matter though. I’d show her everything she needed to make sure she’d have a healthy sex life.
Mangina.
I snorted a laugh and typed my response.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: RE: RE: Mmmm…brownie points.
My poor Maya,
I pity the fool who had you in his grasp and disappointed you so thoroughly.
I’d like to say that bedroom games come easy to most, but they don’t. Sex is an art, and if you aren’t taught the basics, you have no hope in hell of pleasing anyone. The key to sex is communication. Don’t ever be afraid to tell your partner what you like. If you don’t, they’ll have to guess, and men (or women) can’t read minds…unfortunately. How cool would it be if they could??
You aren’t pathetic. Not even close. Stick with me and we’ll work together to make you a phenomenal lover. That’s a guarantee.
In answer to your question(s), I love to play basketball. My best friend thinks he’s Jordan circa the early nineties, but he’s more Dennis Rodman circa…now. It’s sad. Really.
And you won’t believe it, but the sport I most love to watch is curling. Those damn Canadians sure know how to party, eh?
Now, as you can see, I’ve answered both your questions. How about we do it this way? Parties can either answer one, or both of the questions asked, depending on what they’re comfortable with.
My questions to you are:
1) What did you study at college?
2) Where are you most comfortable, a crowded city or alone on the beach?
Quinn
P.S. Don’t ever call my penis a mangina. Not ever. I feel completely emasculated by that horrible, horrible word. Great. Thanks. How will I ever do my job now?
I had things to do that day, but with every further email, my priorities faded into the background as new ones built themselves.
That should’ve been my first clue to end it.
Chapter Seven
Mia
“All I’m saying is that you should be careful. You don’t know anyone in your building, and it sounds like this Bill and Terry might be a little strange?” explained my brother Harry in an overly haughty tone.
I just finished telling him about the cute gay couple in their thirties who lived across the hall. I had come home from my run a sweaty mess, and walking up the stairs, I spotted Terry leaving a basket in front of my door. He heard me approach and looked up. He beamed at me. “You must be our new neighbor on account of I don’t know you.” Standing tall, he held out a muscled arm and took my sweaty hand, kissing it. “You are just adorable.” Calling over his shoulder, he yelled out, “Bill, honey, get out here and meet the little dish who is our neighbor! She’s adorable!”
Still in a daze, I looked over at the opening apartment door to find Bill, an equally tall, muscled, and attractive man coming at me. Where Terry had messy blond hair and green eyes, Bill had dark hair chopped into a crew cut and eyes so dark they could be classified as black. But then Bill smiled, and he wasn’t so scary anymore.
It was funny what a smile could do to a face.
Taking my free hand, Bill brought my knuckles to his mouth and kissed. “Hello there, sweetness. Welcome to the hood.”
Oh, God. Bill was English. As in, Jude Law, Hugh Grant, Jason Statham, take-me-right-now English. I always loved that accent. It was classy as f*ck and hotter than hell.
There I was, caught between two of the hottest men I’d ever had the opportunity to speak to, so I did what any woman would do. I groaned…loudly. “Just my luck. You’re so totally gay. Damn. That’s so unfair.”
For a moment, I’d been worried I might’ve offended them, but when I lifted my eyes to face them, they were both grinning. Hooking an arm through mine, Terry dragged me toward their apartment, leaving Bill in the hall. As soon as we crossed the threshold, Terry called back to Bill, “Shit, we are keeping this one. I love her already.”