Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 65913 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65913 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
* * *
Xoxo
* * *
Your Friendly Neighborhood Virgin
* * *
I hit post, then click to other questions, where I find a common theme.
Fantasies.
Seems Bellamy was onto something.
I close the laptop, set it on the balcony, then put my pooch down too, so I can stand and take my phone from my pocket.
Moving to the railing, I hit record, closing my eyes as the words form.
* * *
I Had a Dream About You . . .
* * *
Show of hands. Ever had a dirty dream about someone and then seen them the next day?
Oh, sure. It’s just me.
C’mon, we’ve all done it. In the light of day, you feel a little shy, a little transparent. Wondering things like . . . Can everyone tell that Bob O’Malley from accounting ate me out on the copier last night in my sleep? Or maybe you’re all pink in the cheeks because Daryl Mayberry in legal did a striptease for you in the break room to “I Dreamed a Dream,” and you still shouted for him to take it all off even though Fantine was dying.
You woke up embarrassed, maybe even confused, but definitely turned on.
Look, I’m still raising my hand. (And yes, those are dreams I dreamed once upon a time, though names have been changed to protect the innocent.)
Those dreams made me wonder what I craved. But my daydreams and my bedtime fantasies drive me to think about my wishes and wants too.
I want a guy to say to me . . . tell me what you want.
And I’ll tell him. Because I’ve got a list, starting with my top-five fantasies.
* * *
1. Speak up. If we’re kissing all hot and heavy, and you’re making these rough, growly noises, I’ll know how much you’re enjoying yourself. Give me sounds, murmurs, and sweet, dirty words, please.
* * *
2. Make me laugh. Sex is funny if you think about it, from the positions to the squeaks to the sheer mechanics. If you can make me laugh during sex, I bet the nookie will be better.
* * *
3. Spank me, pull my hair, push me down. I’m not a doll, so don’t treat me like one. I’m a grown woman. I won’t break. Bite me, hard, there, right there.
* * *
4. Be in the shower one night when I get home. Let me find you by following the sound of pattering water. I’ll walk in on you. Only, you’re not getting clean. You’re getting dirty . . . and I’m getting wet.
* * *
5. Tell me you thought about me all day, and I’m yours.
* * *
So, dear reader, I encourage you to make your own list. Write down your dirty dreams, and then decide if you want to find out how much you like sex on a copy machine.
Or not.
For now, I have a date with my Just for Her Diamond Flicker, and I’m going to pick something from my top-five menu.
* * *
***
* * *
Before I can sign off, a high-pitched bark rips through the air.
My eyes pop open and find StudMuffin, sniffing sage in a pot on the deck. But I know he didn’t bark—the sound came from below. I peer over the railing, and my breath catches when I find the culprit.
That’s my boss on the sidewalk, and his dog is barking at me.
Think fast.
I hit end on the recording, so I don’t lose my work, then I wrack my brain.
What do I do now?
Act innocent. It’s the best defense. Besides, did he even hear me?
Time to find out.
“Hi, there,” I say at the same volume as I dictated my column. “I was recording some thoughts on my favorite flowers and whether every day should be National Pizza Day. Yup, just working late on brilliant ideas.”
Totally not dictating a sex column.
Milo shakes his head and cups his ear, the universal sign for I can’t hear you.
Thank goddess!
Trudy tugs insistently on her leash. He points to her and then waves, and when he walks into his building next door, I do believe I’ve been saved by a dog.
Whew. That was close. I go inside and clean up the dinner dishes, both because I need to and because I need a distraction to get Milo out of my head.
My column won’t do a damn thing to get his hotness off my mind.
When the sink is spick-and-span, I dry my hands, then head to the kitchen table to clean up my transcription. Before I can start, my phone pings.
Oh!
It’s Milo texting. I click on his note as I head into my bedroom to read it.
* * *
Milo: Hey! Sorry if Trudy scared you. We’d just come home from drinks with my brother, and she must have spotted you on your balcony and wanted to say hi.
* * *
Aww, his dog likes me.
* * *
Veronica: Your dog has excellent taste.