Temptation [h.s.] ✔

Chapter 4.

         My panties aren't wet.

        They should be. While I'm sitting across the table from Mr. Jackson Sands, my ex-boss, my panties should be dripping. And they're not.

        There's no sizzle. No boom-boom. No tingly spine or somersaulting stomach. Well, this is fvcking disappointing, isn't it? I've only crushed on the guy since he became my manager a year and a half ago. I've only wanted in his pants since he walked through the goddamn door. And now that we're on a date, that crush has disappeared, right along with my attraction. 

        Lost: one libido. If found, please return to my lonely, attention-deprived vagina. 

        I suppose I should be thankful that this is the end of the date—and that there is no attraction. Jackson doesn't strike me as a no-strings kind of guy. That doesn't wash with me. I hate strings. Strings make things sticky. 

        It's kind of a shame though. I mean, he wouldn't be a bad guy to have strings with. So what if his messy, dark-blond hair and pair of blue eyes are more fitting of California than Seattle? He's stable. Steady. On one course without any intention of veering off—unlike me.

        I get the feeling that, if Jackson hit a crossroads in his life, he'd know exactly which turn to take. Me? I'd dance around like a motherfucking fairy and change my mind ten times. 

        "So, I'll call you?" Jackson says, moving some hair from my face. 

        Damn. The 'call you' question. "Sure," I reply, trying to sound perky. Is it bad that I'm trying to work out how quickly I can change my number? Oh, god. It's so bad. So, so bad. 

        "Great." He smiles and dips his face toward mine before I can turn away. His lips touch mine, soft and warm but...boring. Huh. 

        I grip his shirt and step into him. Waiting, hoping, for something... Something sizzly. Sparky. Va-va-voomy. When, after a minute of brushing lips, my body is as flat as it was ten minutes ago, I move away. 

        "Thanks for tonight. It was fun." I smile and duck into my taxi before he can say another word. Oh, god. 

        What kind of person lusts after someone for a year and a half then suddenly doesn't? Me. 

        There's no reason I should be surprised. I bolt at the first sign of anything stronger than one night. I guess my hormones finally got that memo. 

        I lean back into the seat and stare out the window. Yes, it's for the best that my vagina forgot to clench and get all excited when he walked into the restaurant. After all, he was late. Who's late to a date? That's my job.

         I'm totally trying to justify this bullshit turn of events. 

        I throw a couple of bills into the driver's lap and get out of the car to his call of, "Thanks, darlin'!" I let myself into my apartment block and press the elevator button repeatedly. Stupid thing is so slow. 

        "Now, if you're home, I know that date was bullshit, darling."

         I turn at the sound of the disappointed voice and grin at Sean. "You have no idea. It's like having sex and getting no orgasm at the end of it." 

        "On the contrary, I think that's exactly what happened." 

        "What? No. I didn't have sex with him." I step into the elevator after him. 

        "Well, there's a first time for everything." He examines his reflection in the mirrored walls. I smack his arm.

         I smack his arm. "Are you calling me a slut?"