For Authentication Purposes (6 page)

She looked at me in horror. “Feedback? From Count Cannabis and the Squirter?”

I couldn’t help but laugh as she looked out the window and muttered, “I don’t even know how that works.” Then she stared out of the windshield, not saying a word for the remainder of the drive to her apartment.

Once inside, she walked into her room and placed her things in a corner before poking her head out. “Um. What are we doing today?”

I sighed and sat down on her couch, leaning back and spreading out. “You’re gonna get off for me.”

“I need you to repeat that.” She squinted and cocked her head to the side as she looked at me

“Please tell me you know how to get yourself off.”

She snorted. “Bitch, please. I’ve been scratching records since I was ten.”

My brain shriveled a little with that information. “Let’s not talk about you doing those things that young, okay?” I adjusted myself on the couch, feeling dirty, and not in a good way. “I just want to watch you make yourself come. It’ll give me some insight.”

Dawn looked around the room and tugged at the sleeves of her shirt. “Here? Or in my bedroom?” All her bravado was fading right in front of me.

“Wherever you want.”

She nodded and looked around. “I guess the couch is as good as any place.” After a second of deliberation, she walked over and sat down next to me, scooting to the back of the couch. She closed her eyes and crossed her legs, letting her hands press onto her thighs.

“What are you doing?” I was confused as shit.

“I can just cross my legs and, you know . . .” Her face turned pink as she looked up at me.

“Are you being serious? You’re just going to cross your legs. Rub them together and get yourself off?”

She nodded.

“Like a cricket? Do you do this in class? Did you do this on the bus?” I leaned forward, enthralled. “Have I ever been around you when you’ve done it?”

Her head fell back, and she laughed, turning even redder. “Maybe. I’m sneaky.”

I exhaled and leaned back against the sofa. “Fine. We’ll start here. But sit in between my legs and rest back against me, okay?”

She agreed and shifted herself so that her back was secure against my chest and her ass was nestled between my thighs.
 

“Relax,” I whispered and pulled her in closer. She settled her head against my shoulder and licked her lips, letting her eyes drift closed.

My hands covered hers on her knees as she crossed her legs. Then I watched in awe as she squeezed her thighs closed, her legs pulsing just a small amount as she rubbed them together and flexed her muscles at the same time.

Her chest grew heated and red patches appeared on her cheeks as she let her lips fall open and inhaled a ragged breath. My fingers interlaced with hers while she wiggled in my lap, and I focused my concentration on her instead of the raging boner in my pants.

Dropping my face to her temple, I opened my lips next to her ear. “Who are you thinking of, Dawn?”

She sighed, and her cheeks grew redder.

I let out a low hmm. Taking one of her hands, I raised it to her breast and let it lie there until she gripped it by herself through her T-shirt. “Fuck, Dawn. I bet your pussy is getting so wet right now, isn’t it?” My hand dropped to the top of her jeans, and I let my fingers play over the exposed skin there as she started to move a little faster. “I can’t wait until you’re leaking all over my cock. Letting me taste you.” I moved her hair from her neck and flicked my tongue along her pulse. She was open mouthed now, her breaths shallow and fast when I wrapped her hair around my fist and pulled a little, allowing her head to fall to the side so that I could breathe beneath her ear. “I can’t wait to watch you come for real, Dawn.”

Her legs jerked as I wrapped my fingers around the front of her neck, letting them splay along her pulse. Slithering my other hand down her pants, my fingers came to rest outside of her panties where I could feel how wet she was. I left my hands there as she slumped back against me and counted.

“God.” She panted, letting her fingers uncurl from their spots on her body.

I moved my hands away from her and stood up, adjusting myself in my jeans. “Was that good?” It came out with more of a laugh than I intended.

She eyed me lazily “Yeah.”

I shook my head. “No. It wasn’t. Your orgasms are weak. Very weak. You need to work on that.” Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out some money. “Buy a vibrator. A real one. A rabbit. Turbo speed. Something. Because you need to get off. Bad.”

She sat up and glared in disgust. “I thought that’s what you were here for?”

I shook my head and started for the door. “Patience, remember? How am I supposed to please you if you don’t know how to work your own clit?”

Silence settled between us, and I had to hold my tongue, not wanting to give in so easy. I nodded toward her desk, before stepping to the door. “Maybe use that picture as inspiration.”

“You suck,” she yelled after me.

I peered back through the door and chuckled before it closed. “Maybe try to write tonight?” As soon as the click alerted me to the barrier between us, I doubled over and palmed my dick, cursing my hard-on. I wondered if I would have to jack off in the parking lot or if I could make it home.

Dawn

Iris stands alone on the beach watching the tide roll in as gusts of wind from the open sea tousle her long blond hair.

She’s glad she put a hole in Vlad’s boat before he sailed away. He deserved to drown in open water for leaving her in the first place.

. . .

I slammed my head against the desk as I closed my laptop in desperation. Not only was I frustrated over my writing, but also I was horny as hell, and it was all Warner’s fault. Plus, he’d left me stranded at my apartment without my freaking car so I had no way of getting anywhere except on foot. I was thankful it was a Saturday and I didn’t have to work with Frank. That reminded me that I had planned on sleeping with someone whose phone number I didn’t even have.

After a long shower and an attempt at getting myself off to no avail, I decided to try another route to get to Warner: Candace.

“Yello,” she deadpanned when she picked up on the third ring.

“Candace?” I was chewing the skin on my fingers so hard I was afraid I’d lose my fingerprints.

“
Eh, Candace es no aqui
.”

“Don’t be stupid, Candace, I know it’s you.”

She huffed. “Why do people do that? You dialed my number. You know I answered. Why do you ask if it’s me like some other girl with my voice will answer my phone?”

I imagined her sitting on her orange couch in her apartment with her feet up on her boyfriend’s lap. She was most likely chewing off the split ends on her dark brown hair while Nolan was busy beating the last level on Candy Crush. Or looking up code to hack into the UN’s database. The two of them were such a weird couple that they made complete sense. And they were both so tiny. If they ever procreated, their kids would be pocket sized and might have little blond ’fros like their dad. Add in the dry humor plus the sarcasm and their family would end up being a reality TV show one day.

“God, your entire family is just full of asses.” This was exasperating.

Candace was quiet for a second. “I take it you’ve seen Wardo?”

Nolan piped up. “She saw Wardo?”

“Yes, didn’t I just say that? What is wrong with you people?” Candace snapped back.

“Shut up, you two.
Damn
. Listen to me. I need Warner’s phone number because we have a class together this semester and he’s my lab partner. So can I please have his cell number to contact him about our, um, fruit fly project?”

“She’s says she has a class with him and they’re studying fruit flies.”

Nolan made a weird sound. “I
love
fruit flies. Ask if I can come watch their experiments.
 
It’s only an hour drive. It’ll be worth it.”

“Uh, Nolan . . .”

“Oh my God! Just put the damn thing on speakerphone. I can hear you both, and it’s driving me insane!”

There was a click and hum and then Nolan cleared his throat. “Hey. Hey, Dawn. Can I come watch your fruit fly experiments?”

“No,” I told him, irritated beyond belief. “Please just give me Warner’s number before I end up in jail for manslaughter from climbing through the phone to strangle you both.”

“Yeah, that’s not physically possible.” Candace was dead serious.

“Okay, I’m hanging up now. Text me his number.” I resisted the urge to throw my phone and instead waited, chewing my nails until the text came through. Less than a minute later, I was calling his phone, not even the least bit surprised that it went to voice mail.

“Uh, Warner. It’s Dawn. Yeah, you brought me home last night, and I don’t have a car here. So I’m going to need you to come pick me up. Please. And thanks.” I started to put the phone down and stopped. “Oh, and this is my number, obviously, since I just called from here. You can call me back. I mean. Do. Call me back. I’m getting dressed now. Bye.”

Shaking my head, I put the phone down and realized that I had pretty much told him I was naked. Just like my mom did all those years ago. It got me thinking about the past few days, the conversations and revelations that had unfolded. Who did Warner think he was to teach me about sex anyway? Did he have some kind of sex therapy degree that I didn’t know about?

My heart stopped for a second.

Was he a gigolo?

I wouldn’t have put it past him to have been out selling the goods for the past few years. But the thought made my stomach queasy for some unknown reason and I didn’t like it.

It’s not that I didn’t know about sex. My great - grandmother had an entire basement full of those damp, old romance novels that she read in a day and never threw away. She ordered them from some mail service where she could get, like, ten of them for a dollar. They were short and sweet and filled with, well, filled with ripping bodices and wet folds.

I used to disappear down in that cellar for hours, taking the books and setting the spines on the table to see where the pages were bent the most. That was always the spot that had the hottest sex scene in it. I knew because the pages were bent more there from the clutching that Great Gram’s hands did as she read. So I could sit down there for hours and read just the smutty parts. Cross my legs. Do my thing. Whatever.

Maybe that’s why I didn’t feel it was all that necessary to have sex. Or that losing my virginity wasn’t that big of a deal. I’d read all about it for years. And I could handle myself just fine.

When I got older, I would go spend summers with my aunt. She had this kickass house on a lake, with a boathouse and a full-size swimming pool. Her entire downstairs was a rec room that had a pool table and big screen TV in it. It also had a library where I would get lost in books all day every day for the entire summer.

I’d devour three books at a time, making sure to take one trashy novel for every two suspense books I found. That way she wouldn’t think I was a total perv. She had some of the really good stuff that had threesomes and spanking or whips in it. I am serious. I learned a lot over the course of those summers. I used to imagine when I was swimming by myself or catching up on movies with my cousin at night, that there was a boy just about my age that was watching me from across the lake.

It would both excite and scare me at the same time to think about the possibility of having a secret admirer. I guess that’s why I loved her old collection of films from the ’80s. They spoke to me in a way that movies my friends were watching didn’t. It was like everything that a little girl could ever fantasize about was right there, written by a man, on the television. The nerdy, book-loving girl who was pursued by just about everyone. I wanted that to be me.

But maybe Warner was right. I’d lived my life vicariously through rom - coms that had nothing to do with my own existence.

What a sad, sad epiphany.

With that on my mind, I made myself go into the bathroom to blow-dry my hair and think over what I’d just discovered about myself. Turning off the dryer, I tilted my head to check my hair in the mirror and screamed bloody murder.

Warner was standing in my bathroom doorway, wearing a shit-eating grin.

“Holy shit!” I screamed and clutched my robe in my fist, thinking I was going to have a heart attack.

He held up a brown bag. “I brought breakfast.”

Terror gave way to fury as I stared at him in disbelief. “How the hell did you get in here?”

A shrug. “You have one of those key magnets under your tire that you didn’t take with you this time. I’ve seen you do it before when you thought you were being sneaky. You seem to be flustered around me a lot. Very forgetful.” The bastard laughed.

I shoved my way by him and turned back to address him once I reached the bed. “I need to get dressed. Can you please take me to my car? I have stuff I have to do today.”

He reached into the brown bag and pulled out a muffin, taking a slow bite as he settled himself in the comfy chair I had in the corner of my room. “Where ya goin’?”