hookups on an app called Cuffd, and he’d clearly signed up as a “dominant,” since that was the only way he could’ve seen my letter to Santa. And if he was the type who needed someone to call him Daddy just to get off…
Well, I mean, fine. I could do that. Just for one hookup, I mean. Obviously, since it wouldn’t go any further than that. But he was clearly into me, since he’d messaged first. And staring at his pic, I was starting to get horny, so...
“I could type out a reply for you, or you can just click the autoresponder,” Nichol said, grinning like a maniac as that stupid little kitten she was holding crawled up on her face and muffled her next words. “That red button says ‘naughty,’ and the green one is ‘nice.’ I think we both know which one you should use.”
“That thing looks annoying,” I said when the cat batted her nose. “You should make Scott return it.”
“You’re stal-ling,” she said in a sing-song voice.
“Did you even check if he’s a top?” I asked, definitely stalling. “Because you know—”
“That you’re a needy little bottom who only hooks up with guys who promise to fuck you into the mattress, and you keep dreaming that one day someone will come along who does it so well that you finally find the holy grail of orgasm and come hands-free,” she interrupted. “Yes, yes, I know, Jordan. Read his profile already.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Shut up, you know what I mean,” she said.
“Oh, that’s going to make him sound sexy,” I said sarcastically. “You know the text-to-speech bullshit on this thing is annoying. It sounds like a fucking robot.”
My knee started to bounce.
“No, it doesn’t,” Nichol said, pinning me with a hard stare that came through the screen loud and clear. She knew I was still stalling, and she was going to make me answer this guy anyway, wasn’t she? “But if you’re that against using basic technology today,” she went on. “I can always read his profile to you.”
I kind of wanted her to, which was a bad sign. It was just that smile of his. It was fucking with my head. Didn’t matter, though. If I did message him—if—and if he was actually DTF tonight, then I didn’t actually care about whether he liked long walks on the beach or what the fuck ever else he’d put in his profile.
“No one actually comes hands-free outside of porn anyway, bitch,” I said, my stomach fluttering as I moved the mouse up to the reply buttons.
“Bet you’re wrong,” Nichol said.
“Dude, you don’t even have a prostate,” I said, hovering the cursor over the red button.
“No, but I’ve pegged a few,” she said, smirking. “Click it.”
My stomach fluttered. “He’s probably a total dick.”
“Does it matter, if you just want to ride it?”
I glared at her. “Why am I fucking doing this, again?”
“Because I told you to,” she said. Then her eyes went all soft, just like that stupid kitten’s fur looked, as she added, “And I love you. And I could be wrong, Jordan, but I think he might be exactly what you need.”
I snorted, looking away. “You’re definitely wrong.”
But I did what she’d told me to anyway, because even if it wasn’t the way she probably meant it, I did need something tonight. And maybe—I mean, probably not, but maybe—it would turn out to be this guy.
Even if I did have to call him Daddy to get him to fuck me.
5
Andy
I tapped my pencil on the edge of my desk, staring blankly at the textbook in front of me. I was pretty sure I had all the material down and would ace the final, just like I always did, but it never hurt to go over it again. And besides, it beat re-reading Jordan’s letter to Santa on the app for the millionth time.
Then again...
“Move,” I said to Ellen.
She ignored me, but I managed to pull my phone out from under her stomach anyway. Why she had to lie on top of it when there was an entire desktop of empty space available to her, I had no clue, but at least while she’d been using it as a cat bed, I hadn’t been obsessively checking Jordan’s profile status every five minutes… which, for the record, had been consistently “offline” every time I’d looked, just like it had been ever since I’d bitten the bullet and sent the app’s “have you been naughty or nice” autoresponse to his letter