Hotline Fling

25: Office Inspirations

Juneau's POV

Despite how Damian's voice coaxed three orgasms out of me in one phone conversation, I went out with Kevin two more times, Saturday and Monday. I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. Both times we had a great date, easy-going conversations with definite flirty chemistry, and ended back at his place.

On the first date, we went to Central Park. I was worried that he planned to ride in one of the horse-drawn carriages. While they looked romantic, the view and smell of the horse's ass weren't. I was so relieved that I kissed Kevin when we arrived at the ice skating rink. Uncoordinated, I still appreciated that he brought me to the first opening night of the flooded outdoor rink, and he held my hand or arm while my ankles wobbled. I liked that we were both only children, giving a different perspective than people with siblings.

We went to The Museum of Ice Cream in SoHo for our second date, where I held back tears at its three-story pink exterior. Understandably, Kevin was confused. "No?" His hopeful expression, sparkling brown eyes, and the adorable dimpled smile faded. "You don't like ice cream? Or are you lactose intolerant?"

"No." I clutched his arm and smiled. "My ex would've never come here, that's all."

Quite an understatement. The gym rat and I met when he almost ran me over outside the locker rooms at Krank Brooklyn, a strength-training gym. I was suckered in with –what else– a free seven-day coupon pass and muscular arms. Sloan worked there as a personal trainer, and his near-perfect, ridiculously ripped body had me at first gasp. The constant picks at my appearance and lifestyle choices, not so much.

After both dates with Kevin, we entered past his condo's entrance. He wasn't saddled by student loans. His one-bedroom condo in SoHo had a spacious, modern kitchen and living area, and all the décor was sleek and masculine, including his gigantic bed.

During the first –and only– redo attempt, I was built up and left high and too dry. We tangled up in each other's arms, with hot and heavy petting and kissing, and Kevin again finished much sooner than me. Even with foreplay, edging, and different positions, he shot his load fast and hard. He fell asleep over me, so I tucked my legs around his waist, rolled him onto his back, and slid off. I tidied him up, tossed the condom out with my dignity, and tucked him into bed. With a sigh, I slipped back into my tornado-strewn clothes and snuck out in a walk of shame I hadn't done since college.

After the ice cream museum, I kissed him goodbye at his building and made an excuse for why I couldn't stay. With burning cheeks, I nodded at his building's doorman and walked to the nearest subway station home. What that man must think of me.

Despite my decline, Kevin was the most oblivious guy. He asked to see me again every day for the next few days. I declined with one lame excuse after another, but the entire situation left me frustrated in more ways than one.

In a pleasant surprise, because I was open about Kevin, I spoke with Damian more frequently. He called me every night at nine pm, late enough when he was off work. I couldn't imagine what his phone bills were so we texted during the day.

Once my usual rush of guilt from oversharing subsided and Damian hadn't freaked out, a warm, calm sensation came over me. While I looked forward to his calls before, hearing from him was my favorite time of day. While we got into the dirty talk and avoided severely personal details, Damian was sweet. Talking to him became the favorite part of my days.

I wasn't beneath admitting that I developed a little crush on Damian. The more I learned about him, the more I liked him. My breath hitched every time my work phone lit up, and that anticipation always crashed when the caller wasn't him.