Page 36 of Blindsided
Cookie: Oh! I should tell you that I don’t take birth control pills, so do I need to buy condoms or something? Don’t I need to know your size? Do you have one of those flexible craft tape measurers? If not, I can come over and measure you.
Me: …
Cookie: Mac?
Me: …
Cookie: Mac? Are you measuring right now?
Me: …
Me: Freya, I’ve never in my life had a woman ask me to measure my cock, and I’m not sure I’m okay.
Cookie: What? Is that weird? I thought it seemed responsible.
Me: For starters, men should buy the condoms. It’s literally the least we can do. Secondly, if I don’t know the size of my cock by now, I’m not doing this bloke thing right. And thirdly, if you ever come at my dick with something that has the word “craft” in it, I’ll never have a hard-on again.
Cookie: Fine, no need be dramatic about it.
Me: When it comes to my cock, there’s no messing about. Got it?
Cookie: Got it. So when are we doing this?
Me: I’ll pick you up at 5 tomorrow.
Cookie: Tomorrow? Why don’t you just come over here tonight and get it over with?
Me: Cookie, I’m taking your maiden tag to make it special, not to just get it over with. I need time to give you an epic, craft -free memory. Just trust me, all right?
Cookie: Okay…What should I wear? That dress you bought me?
Me: If Santino touched it, burn it. Just…surprise me.
Cookie: Okay…see you tomorrow. Xx
Me: xx
Is this the right outfit to wear on the night you’re going to lose your virginity?I wonder to myself as I stare at my reflection in the full-length mirror propped inside my bedroom. I purchased an obscene number of potential options for tonight, but the black velvet mermaid-shaped dress I found in a vintage shop refuses to be ignored.
It hits me mid-calf like all the other things I love to wear, but it’s formfitting, so I’m hoping Mac will approve. He’s still technically my love coach, right? So I guess this means I want to please him. Plus, the gorgeous crisscross halter bustline certainly accentuatesallmy more favourable assets.
I even splurged on some new black lace knickers for the evening because the thought of Mac seeing me remove my Spanx is a humiliation I’d like to avoid for the rest of my life if at all possible. Black Mary Jane heels finish off the chic look along with my red sweeping curls that I’ve gathered around onto one shoulder. I feel good. I feel ready and prepared to pass my maiden tag off to my good friend, Mac.
Now if only I knew what we were doing tonight.
Part of me wishes Mac would just show up and do me right away. Get it over with so I can stop fretting. But then part of me thinks it might be fun to pretend this is a real date with a real man who might actually fancy me as more than a friend.
There I go with myHeartlandfantasies again. Mac is no Canadian cowboy, and I’m not riding down the aisle on a pony to marry him at the end of all this. This is a realistic means to an end. Nothing more.
A knock on the door sends Hercules sprinting for my bedroom, and I get an overwhelming sense of wrestling kittens niggling in my belly. I quickly slick on my matte red lipstick, ignoring the kittens and grabbing my green handbag off the counter. When I open the door, my heart skips a beat because it’s not just my friend standing on the threshold in his normal casual wear.
It’s my friend standing there looking really sexy. He’s wearing freshly pressed black trousers and a white dress shirt cuffed at the sleeves showing hints of his tattooed arms. It’s sophisticated with a touch of edge. A heady combination.
He’s had his hair cut too, leaving a good amount of his ginger length intact, but it’s lost the shapeless flop it had before. I finally look him in the eyes and am flabbergasted when I realise Mac isn’t looking at my face. He’s looking at my body.
And the way his dark gaze sweeps every square inch of my curves is positivelyindecent.
I clear my throat and touch the smooth velvet of my skirt. “I know it’s not showing off my legs but—”
