JAKEandNotASNAKE really caught my attention. He talked to me like I’m a person. Not a widow. Not a rape victim.
Not a little sister of dangerous men, or a platonic friend, but like I’m someone he is actually interested in.
We’d been dancing around the idea of meeting for a bit and I’m the one that pushed, finally. I’m going to meet him for a drink Saturday night.
We hadn’t gotten overly sexual in our discussions but he got a little bit descriptive late one night after a long few hours of constant texting. He told me he’s a dominant and likes to be bossy in bed. When he’s with someone, he likes to give orders around sex, around what she’ll wear, whether or not she gets to touch herself, etcetera. I got very excited about the etcetera part, got squishy in my panties just thinking about that notion.
I was honest, said I had only been with one man, it had been very vanilla, and that I was curious about the spicier side of things.
I hope that’s not a mistake. I hope Jim would understand.
***
I sat at the bar for about half an hour. Maybe Jake-not-a-snake saw me and something about me made him wanna leave. Maybe he thinks he’s not attractive enough for me.
Don’t hate me for sounding like a conceited bitch. I’m not a ten out of ten. I hate my chin and I’m too short. My hips and my J-Lo ass are too big, too. But as far as blind dates go, unless something about me really hits a nerve, a guy is probably gonna at least wanna talk to me.
I sat at the bar. A gorgeous redheaded guy with a bit of a Michael Fassbender vibe approached.
“How are you doin’ this fine evening?” he asked me, sidling up close.
“I’m good. I’m meeting someone,” I said.
He looked me over and shook his head, “Shame. That doesn’t work out, I’ll be here a bit.”
I flushed red a little bit. I was flattered. It felt good to have someone appreciate me appearance-wise.
But after a few more guys tried to pick me up, and one of them kind of creepily, I decided that maybe Jake couldn’t make it. Or, saw me and was disappointed. So, I was going to leave.
But someone, a guy who’d tried to pick me up in the bar, tried to grab me in the parking lot and force me into a car. It was a replay of the nightmare that got me raped and I was seeing my life flash before my eyes, when someone yanked the guy off me and beat the snot out of him and called the cops.
Zack Jacobs saved me.
And then, while he held the guy until the cops got there, Zack admitted he was Jake. I was furious, thinking my brothers were having me tailed, spying on me, but Zack explained he was still getting some intel from when he was investigating my brothers and part of that intel included our internet search history. Seriously? Get a good security program for your computer. You never know who is paying attention!
He had intended to stop the practice but caught the pattern on my usage and said he was concerned. I think he was nosy. And being a perv. I was looking up some crazy terms and it was embarrassing to think about someone knowing about that.
He tried to convince me that he actually was interested in me. I gave him the finger and took off.
He followed me and tried to ask me out by Luc’s door. That didn’t go real well.
“Tessa, please believe me,” Zack pleaded, “C’mon. Let me take you out to dinner.”
“Fuck you.”
“Can I text you for a bit? Keep talking, then? Maybe you’ll change your mind.”
I stood there and malfunctioned. He saw his opening.
He grabbed his phone and was doing something. I was standing against the door of my sister Luc’s house. She was babysitting my boys.
My phone made a noise. I lifted it from my pocket.
The screen was filled with silly emojis.
I rolled my eyes. He was really good looking. Tall, clean cut, but rugged. Sexy. Built.
“I’ll text you. Grovel for a week or two. Maybe then you’ll let me