been a fluke, an experiment. Jackie had successfully set up something Marten never would’ve organised for himself and now the sane thing was to withdraw, to gather her memories like photographs and put them in a box.
Tony wasn’t their friend. He was a guy in a video online who’d happened to put up with her company for a few would-be rendezvous. That he was good in bed she’d already figured out before he’d even taken off his clothes. It was no doubt in the job description. The rest was just—water under the bridge. No harm, no foul.
There were no text messages on her phone, but when she fired up her laptop, Jackie was surprised to find, among all the spam and useless Facebook updates, a singularly important email waiting in her inbox. She recognised the address as Tony’s. When Marten called to ask what he should pick up for dinner, she was rereading the email for a third time. “You sound strange,” he noted astutely. “Everything okay?”
“What? Yeah.” She was only listening with half an ear. “Totally. Listen, how would you like to go out tonight?”
“I’m a little tired,” Marten temporised.
Jackie didn’t give him a chance to bolster a negative with further evidence. “Tony is asking us out on a date,” she blurted out instead, scrolling down to that part of the email with the odd sensation of butterflies fluttering in her belly.
“He is?” Vocal denials morphed into strange wonderment. Marten hadn’t been expecting this any more than she had.
“Yeah. Tonight.”
“Should we go?”
Jackie hesitated. “If you want.” Her cheeks felt hot, a pleasant tremor coursing through her body to pool in her nether regions. She couldn’t help remembering the worshipful glide of Tony’s tongue between her folds, or the heat in his eyes when he’d looked up at her—or, better yet, the grounding weight of him when he had eased his hard cock into her. So much for boxing up those memories .
“Do you want to?” Marten pressed her. “Because if you want—”
“Yes?”
“I think we should go.” His voice was small on the other end of the line, like he wasn’t entirely sure he was giving the right answer. Was that really the case or was Jackie just trying to bolster her own desire to see Tony again by hoping it was shared?
“Marten, if you don’t want to…”
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him,” her boyfriend blurted out, voice hushed although he was probably alone in the car, with no one to overhear his confession.
“Oh, thank God,” Jackie breathed out, relieved, “me too.” Her shoulders sagged against the backrest of the couch. “I didn’t want to say anything.”
“Me neither. Because I think about you, too,” Marten insisted.
“I know.”
“And I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Jackie assured him. “So…yes to dinner tonight?”
They agreed to meet Tony at the restaurant. Jackie was tasked with typing out the reply even though her fingers were shaking and she kept hitting the wrong keys. By the time Marten came home, she was doing up her hair, trying to look more put together than she had practically every other time she’d met Tony.
“Should we change the sheets?” Marten wondered as he changed his shirt and shoes. He was wearing Calvin Klein. Jackie smiled—the shirt had been her gift to him last Christmas and the dark burgundy really contrasted nicely with his skin. As for the sheets—
“Isn’t it a bit presumptuous?”
“Probably,” Marten agreed, looking sheepish.
They changed them as a precaution, just before leaving the apartment. Tony hadn’t complained the last time he’d been here, if he had even noticed the general, methodical state of disarray all across the apartment, but tonight, for reasons passing understanding, they were apparently trying to make a good impression. Jackie fidgeted with her skirt as she slid into the front seat. Marten had joked about crotch-less tights, she worried that could make her
Tony wasn’t their friend. He was a guy in a video online who’d happened to put up with her company for a few would-be rendezvous. That he was good in bed she’d already figured out before he’d even taken off his clothes. It was no doubt in the job description. The rest was just—water under the bridge. No harm, no foul.
There were no text messages on her phone, but when she fired up her laptop, Jackie was surprised to find, among all the spam and useless Facebook updates, a singularly important email waiting in her inbox. She recognised the address as Tony’s. When Marten called to ask what he should pick up for dinner, she was rereading the email for a third time. “You sound strange,” he noted astutely. “Everything okay?”
“What? Yeah.” She was only listening with half an ear. “Totally. Listen, how would you like to go out tonight?”
“I’m a little tired,” Marten temporised.
Jackie didn’t give him a chance to bolster a negative with further evidence. “Tony is asking us out on a date,” she blurted out instead, scrolling down to that part of the email with the odd sensation of butterflies fluttering in her belly.
“He is?” Vocal denials morphed into strange wonderment. Marten hadn’t been expecting this any more than she had.
“Yeah. Tonight.”
“Should we go?”
Jackie hesitated. “If you want.” Her cheeks felt hot, a pleasant tremor coursing through her body to pool in her nether regions. She couldn’t help remembering the worshipful glide of Tony’s tongue between her folds, or the heat in his eyes when he’d looked up at her—or, better yet, the grounding weight of him when he had eased his hard cock into her. So much for boxing up those memories .
“Do you want to?” Marten pressed her. “Because if you want—”
“Yes?”
“I think we should go.” His voice was small on the other end of the line, like he wasn’t entirely sure he was giving the right answer. Was that really the case or was Jackie just trying to bolster her own desire to see Tony again by hoping it was shared?
“Marten, if you don’t want to…”
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him,” her boyfriend blurted out, voice hushed although he was probably alone in the car, with no one to overhear his confession.
“Oh, thank God,” Jackie breathed out, relieved, “me too.” Her shoulders sagged against the backrest of the couch. “I didn’t want to say anything.”
“Me neither. Because I think about you, too,” Marten insisted.
“I know.”
“And I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Jackie assured him. “So…yes to dinner tonight?”
They agreed to meet Tony at the restaurant. Jackie was tasked with typing out the reply even though her fingers were shaking and she kept hitting the wrong keys. By the time Marten came home, she was doing up her hair, trying to look more put together than she had practically every other time she’d met Tony.
“Should we change the sheets?” Marten wondered as he changed his shirt and shoes. He was wearing Calvin Klein. Jackie smiled—the shirt had been her gift to him last Christmas and the dark burgundy really contrasted nicely with his skin. As for the sheets—
“Isn’t it a bit presumptuous?”
“Probably,” Marten agreed, looking sheepish.
They changed them as a precaution, just before leaving the apartment. Tony hadn’t complained the last time he’d been here, if he had even noticed the general, methodical state of disarray all across the apartment, but tonight, for reasons passing understanding, they were apparently trying to make a good impression. Jackie fidgeted with her skirt as she slid into the front seat. Marten had joked about crotch-less tights, she worried that could make her
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