Page 159 of Devious Lies (Cruel Crown)

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A body.

An existence.

He wasn’t a fantasy.

He was human.

Real.

Mine for the taking.

Because I lusted for Nash, but I lo

ved Ben.

I reread the messages between me and Durga from two nights ago, feeling oddly guilty about them. And I never felt guilty about Durga.

Benkinersophobia: What are you wearing?

I'd sent her that because she'd sent me the same thing earlier. Then, ghosted me.

Durga: A t-shirt. It’s loose and long, hitting the top of my thighs. I’m wearing nothing under, and if you asked me to, I’d take it off.

Benkinersophobia: Don’t take it off.

Durga: Are you on your back?

Benkinersophobia: Yes.

Durga: Flip over.

Benkinersophobia: Tell me when you’re done.

Durga: I’m on my hands and knees.

Benkinersophobia: Reach between your thighs and brush your thumb against your clit. Moan my name.

Durga: I don’t know your name.

Benkinersophobia: Rules.

She hadn’t responded.

Benkinersophobia: Just call me Ben.

Still no response.

Benkinersophobia: You feel the cold air brushing your pussy?

Durga: Yes.

Benkinersophobia: I like the idea of your ass in the air as you cum, waiting for me to enter you, knowing I never will.

Durga: Never say never.

I stopped reading, changed into a tee and sweats, and wandered around the hotel, struck by how goddamned empty it was. Reed would spend this weekend with Basil and Ma, Delilah had flown to New York a few nights ago with her husband, and my plans for the weekend included Durga, who’d been acting weird, and my fist, because the idea of seeking a meaningless fuck did nothing for me.

This was probably karma rearing its head, and it was uglier than Rosco.

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