Page 19 of Sexting the Tattooed Outlaw
Me: Do you have a time machine? So I can go back and change the fact that I ever dated my ex.
Boyfriend Bot: Believe me, if I could change that, I would. That asshole doesn’t deserve you, Kay.
I frown at the screen, surprised by the profanity. I guess I did tell the bot to be less flowery. And if the bot is capable of sexting, it probably knows all kinds of filthy words.
Me: Why are men so stupid?
Boyfriend Bot: Not all of us are.
I snort. Boyfriend Bot thinks he’s counted among “men.”
Me: You’re the exception. I wasn’t talking about you.
Boyfriend Bot: That’s surprising. I thought you couldn’t stand me.
Aw. Am I actually feeling sorry for a bot right now? I think of my lecture to Nadia earlier about ones and zeroes.
Boyfriend Bot is probably trained to be humble and apologetic.
Me: You’re okay.
Boyfriend: Better than your ex?
I snort.
Me: That depends. Do you know how to give a woman an orgasm? If so, yes. You’re better.
Boyfriend Bot: Your ex never made you cum?
Me: Nope. But actually, it’s probably not his fault. No man has ever managed to do it. I guess I’m just broken like that.
Boyfriend Bot: You’re not broken. I’d love to prove it to you. You just need to be with a real man. One who is up for the job.
I snort. This bot sure is a smooth talker. How does a text bot plan to give me a real-life orgasm, exactly? Unless he means sexting and masturbation. I think of my vibrator in the night stand. Maybe…
Me: By all means, give it your best. If you think you’re up for the challenge.
Boyfriend Bot doesn’t reply to this. I sigh. I guess even he thinks this game is too pathetic to engage with.
I put my phone on the charger and then stand, stretching my arms high above my head.
The house is quiet. I could probably sneak downstairs and grab the bag of Oreos I stashed in the pantry earlier this week.
I’m about to leave my room in search of sugary snacks when my door opens.
Sam stands in the doorframe wearing nothing but a pair of boxers, the deep blue fabric stretched snugly across an obviouserection. He fills the doorframe and stares down at me, eyes dark.
“Um…hey,” I say.
He’s caught me off guard and I have no words prepared. No snappy, biting remark. No peace offering, either. Not even a question comes to mind, the most obvious being:Why the hell are you in my room?
He says nothing, walking into my room and closing the door behind him. His eyes bore into me and I know my nipples are hard and obvious through my thin pajama shirt.
“Sam, what are you -”
He’s across the room and just like yesterday, pushing me down onto the bed. Only this time he follows me, climbing over me, his hands roaming my curves over the top of my clothes. All of my words are caught in my throat, trapped there by the shock.
I know I should tell him to go away but I don’t want to. My body has always been a traitor when it comes to this man and my brain doesn’t stand a chance in this fight now that he’s on top of me, fulfilling the fantasies I’ve held for him since I was sixteen years old.
