The Boyfriend Designer - Christopher Harlan Page 0,64
on the iPhone their parents bought for them while living in the basement, don’t actually get women to sleep with them?”
He belly laughs. “You know I always wondered why we didn’t move as many of those. Now I know—mystery solved.”
“See those guys have the opposite of a pussy surplus.”
“You mean, like, a pussy deficit?”
“Exactly.”
“I like that. I think that’s the title of my next video. What do you think?”
“Hey, do you. I have no opinion on this one.”
“Well that’s a first.”
“Shut up,” I joke. “I’ll have you know, I don’t have opinions on a lot of things. Your lube just happens to be one of them. You still haven’t told me the best seller yet.”
“That would be the Alpha Shaver 5000. It’s a power manscaper. Top of the line.”
“My God. It’s like you want me to ridicule you. Say what now?”
“The Alpha Shaver. It’s to trim...”
“Yeah, I know what it’s supposed to trim. Wow—hairy losers with a pussy deficit who also use man wipes. Fascinating.”
“Don’t disparage my guys—I could look at your audience as bunch of. . . actually it doesn’t really work the other way around, does it?”
“I wanted to stop you, but you seemed so sure of yourself when you started that I just let you go.”
“I appreciate that, just like I’m appreciating that dress you’re wearing right now.”
He’s making the I-Wanna-Have-Sex face. It’s so unmistakable when guys do that. He was trying to hide it before, just looking for the right spot in the conversation to put it in—pun totally intentional.
“You know what you’ll appreciate even more?”
“What’s that?”
“When I take it off.”
Shoshana
I set my empty wine glass on the table and get to my feet. Standing in front of him, I nudge his knees slightly apart and place myself between them.
“Oh, is that right?” he asks, eyebrow raised.
“Don’t you trust me?”
“Oh course I do,” he replies, trying to put his hands on my hips to pull me onto his lap. There would be time for that, but first…
“Oh no, no touching, Mr. Alpha Man. Keep your hands to yourself,” I instruct, batting his hands away playfully.
He glares at me and I can hear the growl low in his throat. He can pretend to be frustrated and angry but I can see the desire building in his eyes, the green pools darkening with lust. “That’s not fair.”
“Now, who ever said that I play fair?” I tease. I lean down and give him a quick peck on the cheek. He turns his head to try to capture my mouth with his, but I pull away before he succeeds. I know he had a bad day and it was my intention to make him forget all about it.
He raises an eyebrow at me again but settles back against the couch to see what exactly I’m about to do. Standing back up, I turn away from him slightly.
“You said you like my dress?” I question innocently.
“You know I do.”
I start to hike my dress up my thigh, exposing my soft skin. Conor’s eyes leave mine and he follows my hand up as it exposes more and more skin. I’m almost to the top of my thigh when I drop the fabric back down again. He groans and I can’t help but giggle.
I reach for the top of my dress and undo two of the buttons across my chest, shrugging my bare shoulder out from the dress. “What about this?”
“Mmmmm, yes,” he says, his eyes now focused on the bare skin of my shoulder, a hint of the top of my breast showing as well.
I turn the opposite way and pull the dress up my other leg, pulling the fabric up just a little higher this time before dropping it again. He groans again while I giggle at his obvious frustration. I undo a couple more buttons on the front of my chest and shrug my other shoulder out from the fabric. His eyes go wide as more of my bare skin shows, the tops of both breasts barely covered by the fabric of my dress.
I undo the belt at my waist and drop it to the floor at our feet. Leaning forward slightly, I bring my right foot up to the couch and put it between his legs. I bend down and start to undo the buttons from the bottom of my dress up to my hip where the buttons stop being actual buttons. With each button I undo, the fabric falls apart and exposes more and more of my leg.