digs like her vacation rental? “Before you explained it, I would have thought it was just slapping on some makeup and talking to the camera but—”
Her laugh interrupts me. “It used to be. Now I have an upload schedule people count on. So I sometimes film multiple videos a day, which means changing outfits, washing off the makeup I just put on, and starting over again. Then add on hours of editing video, responding to comments on existing uploads, not to mention growing Instagram, Pinterest, Twitch…”
“Could you speak English, please?”
She shakes her head with a self-conscious laugh. “I’ll stop boring you.”
“You’re not. Seriously, it’s fascinating, even if I don’t totally understand.”
“Now I know you’re BSing me.” She rolls her eyes. “Guys like you don’t find makeup interesting.”
“Not the makeup itself. You’re right. I’m lost about all that. But the way you juggle product, filming, social media, and outside ventures to grow your passion into a self-supporting business. That’s amazing.”
“Didn’t you do the same with boats?”
“Kind of. But I don’t have to…apply any craftsmanship to make the boat different. I just sail her as is.”
“Maybe you don’t need to apply craftsmanship because your boat is naturally prettier than mine,” she teases.
“Ha! Floating heaps of fiberglass are downright ugly compared to you. Trust me on that.”
“But you love your boats, don’t you?”
“Yep.” I stop and turn to her again, this time cupping her cheek. “That should tell you something about how gorgeous I think you are.”
She frowns. “You don’t have to ply me with compliments or try to seduce me. I already said yes.”
“So…what? You don’t need me to be nice to you?” I’m trying to follow her logic, but it doesn’t make any sense. “Seems like you’ve had enough of someone who didn’t properly appreciate you. Even if we only have tonight, I want you to feel better about yourself when I leave here.”
She wraps her fingers around my wrist. They’re small and gentle. And chilled. “I only need your honesty.”
“Honey, I don’t know how to be any more honest than that. When I first saw you, I was talking to Harlow and literally lost my train of thought. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t breathe. I could only think about how beautiful you were.” And still are.
For a moment, her eyes soften. Then abruptly she rolls them and starts walking again. “Okay, Casanova.”
I grab her arm and urge her back. “I’m serious. Thom may have made you feel less than desirable for some fucked-up reason that served his interests. I have no reason to lie. Like you pointed out, you already said yes. But if you want me to teach you how to be better in bed, the first step is to be confident. That means you need to know your worth. You’re a diamond, honey. Don’t ever let a man tell you any different.”
She blinks up at me with big, questioning eyes. Maybe I shouldn’t cup her cheek again, but I can’t keep my hands off her. Hell, it takes all my self-control not to kiss her senseless and prove just how interested I am. But she’s not ready for that. Not yet.
At least she’s listening. It’s a start.
“I thought you’d tell me everything I’m doing wrong—not to be a dead fish while we’re having sex or that my blow job technique is terrible. I never imagined you’d be…nice. Why?”
I’m not even sure how to answer her question. I could say that Thom already put her through enough, but I’ve said it. Reminding her would only give her the impression I’m with her out of pity. What I’m feeling has nothing to do with that. Would I like the chance to have a man-to-man with Thom? Yes. Self-centered pieces of shit like him don’t really grasp anyone’s needs but their own. I know that firsthand.
I could also tell Masey that I’m typically a nice person. I prefer to get along with others. I don’t have much of a temper. Throwing down isn’t a sport for me. In fact, it often seems really fucking juvenile. I have other ways to make my point than with a fist. But that’s not really what she’s asking.
“What you want is beyond sex. You want intimacy.”
Before I’ve even finished speaking, she’s shaking her head. “No, I—”
“Yes. You’ve had detached, one-sided sex. I don’t need to show you anything about that; you could probably write a book. What you want—and need—to know is what it’s like when two people in bed together are fully engaged and