Page 123 of The Art of Almost Losing It
“Yes, Daddy.” I do my best sexy baby pose. “Because I want you to tie me up and treat me like your sex doll.”
“You—” He can’t even get the words out.
I pull out the ball gag.
“I know what your kink is,” I taunt him.
He slaps it out of my hand, and it bounces to the floor.
My eyes widen.
“I’m not doing that with you.”
“Why?” I’m not ready to give up. I use the breathy voice Gran made me practice while we were waiting for the Uber. “Did you know I’m not wearing any panties? I came over here as a present just for you.”
I see it in his eyes then—the flash of desire, the way his nostrils flare, the way he shifts his weight, sizing me up.
He reaches out.
I brace for the weight of his hand on my waist, the vise of his grip on my neck.
I want his hand on my throat while he fucks me.
My thighs are coated as I shift my legs, feeling uncomfortably warm and achy.
But he doesn’t touch me.
He presses the down button.
“Go home, Dani.”
“No… wait… um… God, what was my line?”
He’s scowling at me now.
“Just wait…” I dig through my purse, which is basically a bucket. “Hah!” I pull out the dildo and brandish it. “If you don’t want me, that’s okay. I’ll just stand here and get myself off, because my pussy is craving a cock, and—” I struggle with the packaging. “Why are these things so hard to open? What if you have arthritis? I should have brought a knife.”
I chew on the top of the plastic packaging, trying to tear it open.
“Do you have a knife?” I ask him. “Also some ginger ale? I feel a little nauseous.”
Vroom!Somehow I hit the on button on the dildo. It jumps in my hands and bangs me on the chin.
“Ow!” I yelp, and of course then the clamshell package opens.
The dildo swan-dives out of my hand and twitches on the floor like a dying squirrel.
My face burns as I scoop up all the sex toys that I do not—and never will—know how to use and try to stuff them back in my bag.
It’s humiliating.
Embarrassing.
I feel like I’ve never left middle school, like I’m still that dumb, awkward teenage girl who just wants the cute boy to like her the way he likes all her friends.
“You’re fucking pathetic.” The deep voice curls around the small marble-clad room.
“God, screw you.” I look up at his face.
