Page 9 of Savage in the Sheets
“So, what is it like for you?” Angela asks.
“Huh?”
“Sex, if you ask me, it’s fair game that I ask you. You’ve always been so uptight about talking about it before, but now it’s fair game.”
God, how did I get myself into this. I don’t often talk about my sex life, mostly because my lovers are few and far between. Nothing memorable.
She eyes me critically. “Do you turn off the lights?”
“Yeah, sometimes. Not always, though.”
“Missionary?”
“Ninety-percent of the time.”
“Blowjob?”
“Ten-percent.”
“Anal?”
“Zero-percent.” I twitch my nose to the side. “There was an oopsie anal situation, once.”
“God—those are the worst!”
“He was drunk and going way too slow. I just wanted to get it over with, so I yelled at him to hurry up. It got sloppy.”
The retail worker is glaring daggers at Angela, who pays her no mind. Of course, they’d never say anything directly to her. Not with her being the heiress to a hotel chain.
Because I feel guilty by association, I pick up some of the casually discarded garments, and by some, I mean fifty. Angela really is a hurricane.
It’s then that I notice Angela giving me an odd expression.
“Do you even like sex?” she asks.
I blink, trying to think of what to say.
“You don’t, do you?”
“Of course, I like sex. What person doesn’t?”
“Do you just not have a sex drive? Do you not want it at all? Are you asexual?”
“No, to all of those things. I mean, I like it. I really do.”
“Have you ever had an orgasm?”
Again, I blink, stunned by the casual way she asks me these questions, in front of a retail attendant nonetheless.
“You haven’t, have you?”
“Of course, I have.”
Her brow furrows. “But never with a man?”
I see no point in lying to her. “Correct.”
“Has any man cared to try?”
