Mercy (Salacious Players Club, #4)(17)

But there’s something…fuck, what’s the opposite of intimidating? Unintimidating? Yeah, I guess there’s something unintimidating about her also being new to this.

God, what am I even saying? I am not interested in getting into anything kinky. Everything she said about me being as good looking as I think I am and getting pussy regularly was accurate.

But so was the part about not being satisfied.

But only a little unsatisfied. Sex is still sex. Even when it’s bad, it’s still good.

And that’s really what this is about, isn’t it? Sex. Neither of us are looking for a relationship or to be a part of the lifestyle. We’re just looking for sex compatibility.

In that case…why not? Why not just message her back, maybe meet up once or twice. Let it go where it wants to go and hey, if she wants to be a little bossy in the sack, then I’m down for that. I’d let an older woman ride me like a bull. Who the fuck wouldn’t?

Not to mention, I have a point to make here. She thinks I’m brainwashed into believing I can’t be the brat she needs to tame, well then, I’ll show her.

With my tablet in my lap, I open a new sketch. Then I let my fingers go wherever they want, and before I know it, I’m sketching a woman. Curvy hips, thick thighs, mousy brown hair, and round glasses perched on her face. I literally have no idea what this lady looks like, but in my imagination, this is her. I even draw on the black dress and red cardigan.

Then I pick up my phone and type up a message before I can change my mind.

You’re wrong.





It doesn’t take long before she replies.



Am I?





Yes.

You think I’m too stubborn to accept a woman being in control. But I can.





Is that so?





Don’t believe me?





Not really.





So, let me prove it.





This time, there’s a long pause before she says anything else.



My age doesn’t bother you?





You’re thirty-four, not eighty.

Stop trying to make it a problem.





I’m not sure I’m ready for a real date.





I’m not talking about a date.

I’m talking about fucking. Just a hookup.

You’ll be in control.

You can tell me to do whatever you want.

Use me.

You want me to lick your pussy for two hours straight, I will.

You want to strap me to your bed and ride my dick like a bicycle, you can.





Okay, stop.





Why? Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable?





A little.





You need to get over that.

Come on.

Tell me right now what you would do to me.





No.





Why?





Because I don’t know you.





So.

I just told you I’d lick your pussy.

It’s not that hard. Come on.

If you could have your way with me right now, what would you do?





The typing bubbles bounce for a few minutes before she finally responds.

I hate being on top. And I don’t really want you to lick my you-know-what for two hours.





I smile. There’s something about this woman I like. And I might be crazy for trying to meet up with her and willingly let her do what she wants with me when I haven’t even met her, but I can’t help it. She intrigues me.

Okay. So what do you like?





I don’t know.





Sounds like you just haven’t been with the right guy.

Give me a chance.

I’m literally giving you my body so you can use it to get off.





Why would you do that?





Chances are I’m going to enjoy it.

And I’d like to prove a point.

And maybe experiment a little.





Okay, I have an idea.





I’m listening.





There’s a sex club. Salacious.





My fingers freeze over the screen. Oh god, please don’t suggest we go there. This woman has no idea my dad is the owner, and she’s never going to find out.

I know it sounds crazy, but they have a masquerade night once a week. You don’t have to be a member to go. It’s like an open house. We could meet there. And if we want…we can rent a room.





Do you go there?





No.

I just saw the announcement.





When is it?





Friday night.





Fuck. My dad’s engagement party.

What time?