Sext God

When I'm done, I realize that I'm glad that she obeyed me, but I don't feel satisfied. Like a drug, I need more. It is just a taste, and that only makes me hungrier. Every time we communicate, it's just another morsel. Another tease… another taunt.

This is not the path to satisfaction, not like this. I need more. I'm not some pimply teenager who is going to be happy beating off to the fantasy of a girl. I need a real woman, the real satisfaction of a live woman underneath me.

When can we meet?

…

I scowl at the phone, waiting for her to answer.

What's your name?

Who is this?

She doesn't answer right away, and I set the phone down, counting to ten, then ten more, then ten more. I might be overreacting, but this is on my nerves. If it's Trina, the game has gone long enough. Even if it's anybody else, the game has gone on long enough.

Soon, she finally says.

Soon what?

Soon we can meet. I promise.

I want to throw the phone. What the fuck does soon mean anyway? It’s just one of those stupid things people say to each other, a fairytale about a meeting that doesn't actually exist. It’s not even a real time. Some made up word that means not right now.

Instead I close Instagram and scroll through my contacts, looking for Dahlia’s cell phone number. I find it and pause for a moment considering what to say to her. I do not want to come off badly, considering the foul mood that Melanie has put me in. But I need to take care of this, right away.

Chapter 15

Dahlia

As soon as I get back from the storeroom to my desk, my phone double vibrates, the alert for a regular text message. I assume it's going to be Bunny, but when I turn the phone over, the name on the alert stops my blood in my veins.

It's August. He's contacting me directly?

Heart pounding, I tap on the message to open it, but quickly flip my phone back over when Lori’s blonde hair catches my attention from the corner of my eye.

“I want to thank you for following up about Kirkman,” she starts, her eyes sweeping the room distractedly. I'm grateful that she's not looking at me directly, because I know that my cheeks are flushed, and she could probably see my heart beating like a cartoon right now if she looked at my chest.

“Oh, yeah, sure…” I croak, swallowing nervously. I can't get August out of my mind and I try desperately to push thoughts of him aside and focus only on Lori. I need to be in this moment right now.

“I got a hold of his manager, or whatever she is. Was she there too?”

“Manager?” I repeat, confused.

“Yeah, I figured it was Melanie. Anyway, she wasn't sure that there was an opportunity available there.”

“Oh,” I mutter, not sure what to say. The realization of what she's saying starts to sink in: she actually reached out to Kirkman to try to get this contract. She failed, but that's not really the point. I almost created a nuclear catastrophe. What if Melanie had said yes?

Another tidal wave of guilt washes through me as I remember that I've got an unanswered text from August sitting right here on my cell phone.

“So, anyway, I wanted to thank you for trying, Dahlia. It really means a lot,” Lori says distractedly. It seems as though she's giving me this speech out of obligation, as though it's an item on her to do list.

“Don't mention it,” I mumble in response, but I don't think she's listening. She knocks the top of the cubicle wall twice as a way of saying goodbye and then strides off, veering between the rows, looking at everyone like she's trying to pick her next prey.

A sick feeling sloshes through my stomach as I pick my phone up again. The message from August is right there, glowing from the small screen.

I need to speak with you. Please call.

My mouth is as dry as sand as I press the tiny phone icon and listen to the imitation ringing noise. He picks up before it completes.