Page 6 of Accidentally Matched

Chapter Four

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TIERNEY

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“How do I look?” I askand attempt to motorboat my own boobs, presently fighting for their lives to stay in the cups of the bustier I’m wearing. They’re pushed up so high I can rest a cup of tea on them. Even my chin can almost brush against them.

Okay, enough about the pink bustier with its pink ribbons and bows; the matching panties, on the other hand, are so, so tiny there’s like a wisp of silk covering my nether area, and the only thing holding my bum cheeks up is a thin piece of frilly string.

I decide to go with pink high heel pumps even though I desperately want to wear my pink thigh-high boots, which would have made the outfit go from seductress to femme fatale. But I don’t want to kill them, just fuck them, so the pumps win.

My makeup is artful. I skip foundation since I plan to work up a quick sweat, and I don’t want my makeup dripping off me. My hair, unfortunately, is acting up, so I chucked it all into a ponytail and made that look work instead.

“Well,” I say again when my two best friends just stare at me with their mouths open. They better be gaping at me in awe and not with a silent, You’re wearingthat?

“Like you’re going to get your brain banged out by three hunky ranchers," Clementine Williams says, whistling. Clem is stunning. Strawberry blonde hair, hazel eyes, and the cutest dusting of freckles on her shoulders. Her mom is Puerto Rican, and her father is British. Her parents own a string of luxury hotels.

“Excellent,” I say, pleased with myself. “I do lookbangable.”

“Bangable is one thing, and that you are, but are you bendable?” Haley Jensen asks, her black hair gleaming like a river of silk under the chandelier in my bedroom. Her great-grandmother was Indian, and her mom is Norwegian. She’s a shipping heiress.

“I mean, they’re like, what, six-three, six-four? And you’re only five four at that. I’m worried you might not make it out alive,” Haley continues.

“It works in romance novels. It’ll work in real life,” Clem says with a straight face. Reading romance novels is part of our job. How freaking lucky are we?

“Honestly, I’m sure I’ll be fine,” I say. “I have a bag full of lube, and I’m not afraid to use it.”

“At least stretch before you...” Haley says, then leans in closer to me. “Wait. Are those dick earrings?”

“When in Rome,” I say cheekily, proud of my novelty find. Yes, pink dicks littered with diamantes hang from my ears. Unapologetically. They were right there on a rack in the front at the cashiers ofWe Got Lube. The place was a treasure trove of things, and I wondered why I hadn’t gone there sooner.

When I told Kala, the salesperson, about my situation, she directed me to theFuck Around and Find Outsection. How perfect. That is now literally the title of mysexcapade.

“Oh,” I say, remembering I also bought gifts for my friends while I was there. I hand them each bright, pretty pink gift bags. “For you. May your orgasms be long and hard, even if they’re solo for now.” I got them each a pink bullet vibrator. Best seller three years in a row, apparently.

“Thank you,” they both chorus excitedly.

“You shouldn’t have,” Clem says.

“It’s a thank you gift for also looking after Sweetpea.”

I lean down and pick up my soulmate, her white fur utterly luxurious, her brown eyes stunning and pink is definitely her color too. She loves the little pink ribbon in her hair and her pink tutu skirt. I nuzzle her neck, and whisper how much I love her. She’s going to be spending the night with Honeypot and Cass, and I know she’s going to have a blast.

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