Page 120 of Experiments in Offline Dating

“His fingers slide up the line of my quim as I tremble. I’m dripping with need for him and he smears it over his fingers.”

Shit fucking crap! Holy shit, what do I do? Do I stop this? I’ve got to stop this. Would that make it worse? Should I ask him? Do I need consent to press pause? I’m going to do it. Should—

“‘I am going to devour every part of you. Piece by piece.’ Eyes locked on mine, he sucks my slick from his fingertips.”

Suddenly, the narrator’s taunting voice was gone. My phone was ringing. It’s a fucking lifeline! I don’t care who it is! I grabbed my phone from the dash—Simone—and pressed answer in a desperate rush.

“I’m.” I had to clear my throat. My voice sounded hoarse, like after a night of too many screaming orgasms. “I have to get this. It’s work. Sorry.” Not sorry!

After this . . . very important phone call, I just won’t put the audiobook back on. I’ll change the subject or say I need a nap or something. Bless Simone, this perfect angel of a woman! She’s a treasure! She’s my savior!

I put the phone to my ear. “Hey,” I said shakily. But what I hadn’t realized was that my Bluetooth was still connected to the speaker. Because the universe was trying to kill me.

“Hey. So have you fucked the life out of Brick House Brian again yet or what? What are you two waiting for, that’s what I—”

I hung up.

My blood turned to ice, but my face was on literal fire. Like flames. I could smell the heat of my own shame crackling my hair away.

“Who was that?”

“Wrong number,” I said way too loudly. I shouted it. Totally normal.

He shot a glance at me and then back to the road. I chose not to notice it.

I am staring resolutely at the road. I am one with the road. Nothing else exists. Do not look at me. For I do not exist.

“Who is Brick House Brian?”

“No idea. Spam. That was spam. See?” I pressed random buttons. “Blocked! Blocked that number.”

The phone rang again.

“It says ‘Simone.’” He pointed at the screen. He didn’t need to. I pressed the red phone icon immediately and hung up on her again.

I typed wildly. Fuck off! Don’t call again! Ever! Hit send. But then, with Simone gone, the audiobook came back, the narrator’s voice ringing against the windows as if we were inside of a goddamn speaker at a filth festival.

“‘I don’t care if we both burn for this, but you are going to come around my cock so hard that I’ll have to piece you back together afterward.’”

I’m dizzy. I am going to faint. With any luck we both will, and then he can drive right off a cliff until we’re nothing more than a black, smoky, burnt smudge at the bottom of a ravine, and no one will remember this. Ever!

“He spreads me wide with his fingers, gliding against my opening, toying with me. He pushes so slowly into that first tight inch of me that I gasp at the delicious agony of how much I need him to fill every inch of me. I pant out his name as I stretch to fit him. ‘That’s it, honey. Good girl.’ He rubs slow circles against my clit with the pad of his thumb. ‘I’ll have you begging before I’m fully sheathed in this pretty pussy of yours.’”

Tadhg lets out a strained breath. “Okay. I’m going to need to. Pull over for a sec.”

I didn’t answer, because ghosts can’t talk.

“‘Please.’ My voice cracks around the word. ‘Please,’ I moan as he rocks back and then slides a little deeper. ‘Please. Fuck! Please, Valion.’” The narrator was yelling now! Panting in our Jeep. I swear, she’s having an orgasm and we’re listening to it. “‘Yes. More. I need all of you!’”

Tadhg jerked the car into a pull-off. He got out immediately and started pacing, filling his lungs with fresh, clean, non-smut-filled air. And I stayed in the car like a bad girl and disintegrated into a puddle of shame and lust and soaked into the carpets.

When he finally got back in, I had already turned off the book and closed Libby, and then I had turned off the Bluetooth and disconnected the USB as if dismantling a firearm.

“Fuck. Is this what you listen to every day?”

“Yeah.” My face burned. I crossed my arms, suddenly defensive. “Is there something wrong with that?”

“Yeah. There is.”