19. Charlotte

19

CHARLOTTE

W hen I wake up in the morning, my head aches as if I have a hangover, even though I really didn’t drink all that much last night. I feel groggy and off, and I sit up slowly, running my hands through my hair and rubbing my fingers across my scalp as I try to gather my thoughts.

I had hoped that when I woke up, I’d see everything a bit more clearly. That I’d feel more rational about it all. But I can’t shake the leaden feeling in my heart every time I remember that Ivan was at the gala with another woman, even though he was so insistent that they weren’t really together. And then, when I remember seeing Nate there with his gorgeous date, there’s a sinking feeling added to that.

Scrubbing my hands through my hair again, I slide out of bed, going to the shower. Twenty minutes later, I emerge feeling a little less groggy and slightly more hopeful that Ivan and I will be able to talk this all out when we see each other in a few hours—and then I see my phone next to my bed, lit up with a series of messages.

Sarah: How are you feeling this morning, babe? Is everything alright?

Zoe: I want pictures of the dress. ASAP. I might use you for some marketing, if that’s ok. Also, how was the party??

Nate: I’m sorry, Char. If I’d known you would be there last night, I would have warned you. I promise, she’s just a coworker…

Nate: Char, c’mon. I know you want to talk after seeing me there last night. Just call me.

Jaz: Sarah told me Nate was there. Are you okay, babe?

Ivan: Charlotte, I’m so sorry. I’m not feeling well. I think I might have eaten something off last night. I can’t make our date today. But if you’ll text me back, we can reschedule?

The last message sends my heart plummeting to my feet, and I’m struck with the sudden urge to hurl my phone across the room as tears burn at the back of my eyes.

He was lying to me last night. He must have been. I sink down onto the edge of the bed, trying to control my rioting emotions and failing.

The truth is, I realize as I look over the texts, I’ve let myself get too invested in this budding romance with Ivan, too quickly. And I knew I would. That’s why I stuck to my guns so hard about the whole exclusivity thing. But even though I tried to set boundaries for myself and for him, I was jealous last night, when I had no right to be. And that, plus my reaction to him rescheduling, is a sign that I need to take a big step back.

I quickly text Sarah, letting her know that I’m fine and thanking her again for taking me, apologizing for leaving so early. I shoot Zoe a message promising her photos, and ask Jaz if she wants to meet for lunch. Nate’s messages I ignore. And then I sit there, rereading Ivan’s text, chewing on my lip as I type out a response.

Charlotte: It’s fine. Hope you feel better. Maybe next weekend.

By the time I’ve made myself coffee, my phone has buzzed a number of times. Jaz is down for lunch, although she’s clearly concerned about my canceled date, and I see a response from Ivan.

Ivan: I’m so, so sorry, Charlotte. You have no idea. I wouldn’t cancel if I could make it, I promise.

I want to believe him. I really do. But instead of answering, I just fire off a couple of lunch suggestions to Jaz, and curl up on my couch with a muffin and my cup of coffee, taking a couple of painkillers with it to ease my headache.

By one, I’m sitting across from Jaz at our favorite Thai spot, a steaming bowl of tom yum soup in front of me, the fragrant steam making me feel remarkably better before I’ve even started eating it.

“So he canceled?” Jaz looks at me sympathetically. “I’m sorry, babe. I know you were really excited.”

“I was.” I drag my spoon through the soup. “He says he’s too sick to make it, but I saw him at the gala last night, and he looked fine?—”

“What?” Jaz drops her fork, leaning forward with interest. “Sarah told me about Nate, but not about Ivan being there?—”

“I didn’t say anything about it,” I admit. “She was sure I was all shaken up about Nate being there with that woman, and I didn’t have the energy to explain the rest of it. I just wanted to go home by that point.”

“Understandable. But what was Ivan doing there?”

“I don’t know. I—-he’s wealthy, obviously. There must have been some connection.” I explain all of it to her—my escape up to the balcony, finding Ivan there, the woman that was with him. “He said they weren’t there together . Just that she was with him because his father wanted him to take her. And to be honest, she really didn’t seem to give a shit that I was talking to him?—”

“Well, I mean, if you were just talking —” Jaz gives me a pointed look, and I can feel my face flush a little.

“He kissed me.” I don’t think I need to elaborate; I’m pretty sure the look on my face and how red my cheeks are will tell Jaz everything she needs to know about that kiss. And from the smirk on her face, it has.

“Okay, so what’s the problem?” she shrugs, twirling noodles around her fork, and I sigh.

“The problem is that he canceled on me today. Claiming to be sick, when like—sixteen hours ago I saw him at a gala, with another woman , and he was perfectly fine.”

Jaz frowns, stabbing a piece of chicken. “Look, Charlotte, you know I’m never one to give men the benefit of the doubt. But he seemed really into you. That first date went great, and from the look on your face, that kiss was pretty great, too. So maybe he really is sick. Maybe he drank too much and got a bad hangover. Maybe he really did eat something that didn’t agree with him.” She gives me a lopsided smile. “It’s worth giving him a chance, Charlotte. He seems like a pretty good guy.”

“Yeah, he does.” I let out a sigh, taking a bite of the coconut lemongrass soup and letting it soothe me. “I’ll let him stew on it a little and then reschedule the date.”

“Attagirl.” Jaz grins. “Now, what are we doing with the rest of the day, now that you’re all mine for it?”

Jaz and I end up going to a movie instead and grabbing dinner after, and then I drift home, trying not to think about what Ivan and I could be doing right now if he hadn’t stood me up. The urge to text him is strong, but I do my best to resist it, focusing on other things instead. Catching up on TV shows, drinking a cup of tea, taking a hot bath. Anything that I can do to relax and unwind instead of thinking about how last night, and Ivan’s subsequent cancellation of our date, makes me feel.

Feeling rebellious, I pour myself a glass of wine after my bath, and sit down at my laptop, logging onto the chat site. I haven’t gotten onto it in days, because I felt guilty after my date with Ivan. Now, I feel like I need something to remind me not to get so caught up in him. He’s already disappointed me once, and I don’t want to count on him so much that I miss out on getting to explore. That’s what I wanted out of my dating life for a while post-Nate, after all—exploration.

I bite my lip as I log on, seeing Venom’s name in bold, telling me he’s online. A hot flare of jealousy licks through me, wondering if he’s talking to someone else, and I quickly click on his name before doing anything else. All I want right now is for him to talk me through the pleasure that I want to lose myself in.

I want to feel that adrenaline rush, that feeling of doing something bad that I’ve never allowed myself before.

CuriousDove24: What are you doing tonight?

A moment goes by, and my chest tightens, wondering if he really is busy talking to someone else. Or maybe watching someone else’s video on the site. Maybe he doesn’t think of me as soon as he logs on, the way I think of him every time I think about this site.

And then his name pops up—and a second later, a picture.

Venom69xxx: I wasn’t really doing anything. Just hanging around, thinking about you. But now that I know you’re here ? —

The picture is dark, but it’s unmistakably his hand wrapped around his hard, exposed cock. And he’s fucking huge . Long and thick, bigger than any dick I’ve ever seen. I swallow hard, my mouth going dry, staring at the picture for so long that when the wind picks up outside, smacking a tree branch against my window, I jump and let out an embarrassing squeak.

I’m glad he wasn’t actually here to hear that.

Venom69xxx: Did I scare you off, dove? I’m sorry if that was too much, but I thought you’d like to see what you do to me.

Venom69xxx: Just thinking about you gets me this hard. I can’t imagine how it would feel if you were here in front of me.

CuriousDove24: No, I just—you caught me off guard. It’s so big.

Venom69xxx: Mm, that’s what every man wants to hear, dove. I wish I could hear that from your lips. Telling me while you’re on your knees how big my cock is. Looking up at me with those pretty eyes, all worried you won’t be able to fit it all in your mouth.

The next image that comes through isn’t an image at all. It’s a brief, few-second clip of his hand, sliding up and down his length. I can hear the wet sound of him stroking, and my thighs squeeze together, as I can’t help but imagine that sound is coming from my mouth around him, or from him thrusting into me.

I play the clip again, biting my lip as I rub my fingers over the outside of my panties, teasing myself. His hand is covered in tattoos, but the picture is dark and angled in a way that I can’t really tell what they are. I imagine it’s on purpose—this is supposed to be anonymous, after all. But I can’t imagine he’s actually anywhere near me. He probably lives in an entirely different country. The possibility of me running into him is astronomical.

Venom69xxx: Did you really save your Saturday night for me, dove?

I start to tell him that yes, I did. It’s not true, but this is all a fantasy, and I feel strange admitting that I actually had plans to spend it with someone else. Venom is hardly someone who would care, but I don’t want to tell him he was my second choice.

Before I can stop myself, I start to type out the truth. It’s not sexy, and it’s not a part of what we’re doing here—-but I can’t bring myself to make up the story that I should. What’s wrong with me? I feel like something is. Like I’m obsessing over someone’s feelings who couldn’t care less what I was really going to do tonight, who doesn’t know who I am, who is barely real to me and me to him. Just like I was jealous over Ivan, when he’s not mine to be jealous of.

CuriousDove24: I was supposed to go on an apple orchard date today. But he stood me up. I guess I was lonely.

Venom69xxx: He’s an idiot, then. I can tell you what I’d do if you asked me out on a date like that, dove.

I have a feeling that whatever it is, it won’t be as innocent as the date that I was supposed to have with Ivan. But I ask, anyway, because now I’m too curious to back out.

CuriousDove24: What would you do?

Venom69xxx: Well, for one, I wouldn’t screw it up like that guy. We’d go on the date, dove. Pick apples together like a cute little couple. But then, later that night, we’d sneak back in. When it’s dark and quiet, and there’s no one else there but us. And then ? —

The screen goes quiet for a moment, and I swallow hard, the wind outside of my window making my skin prickle. I’m suddenly nervous, jumpy, as if I really am outside in a dark orchard with this man that I don’t know. My heart is beating faster, and I feel that ache between my legs intensifying, the need to touch myself building until I don’t know if I can take it much longer. But I wait, wanting the tease. The torment. And I know what I’m really waiting for is for him to tell me to do it.

CuriousDove24: And then, what?

A picture comes through. It’s like the one he sent me last time, of him from the chest up, that mask on his face. Once again, it’s dark and blurry enough that I can’t really make out any of the tattoos on his chest, but what I’m focused on is his face. That mask, obscuring his features. And when he sends me a second picture, once again of his hand gripping that thick cock of his, I have a feeling I know what he’s going to say.

Venom69xxx: I’d tell you to run, dove. Run through the orchard while I chase you. Until I catch you, and eat you, just like I promised.

Venom69xxx: I imagine you taste sweeter than the apples.

My hand is under my panties, sliding between my folds, dragging through the wet heat as I find my swollen clit and start to rub. I can imagine all of it, exactly what he’s saying, and the fact that it turns me on so much, that I want it, makes me feel guilty and ecstatic, all at once.

Before I can stop myself, I do something I’ve never done before.

I reach for my phone, angling it so that I get a shot of my hand inside my panties, making sure there’s nothing identifiable in the picture. And then I take another of just my fingers, wet and glistening.

CuriousDove24: I wish you could taste me right now. I’m so wet.

Venom69xxx: Oh fuck, dove. You look so good. I want those fingers in my mouth. I’m already so close.

Venom69xxx: Fuck, I just need to come. I can’t wait. Imagine me pinning you down in the grass with my cock inside you, and come for me too.

I gasp as I shove my hand back into my panties, too turned on to go and get one of my toys. I need to come, too, and the idea that I’ve gotten him so worked up that he can’t wait has me on the edge. I feel myself getting closer and closer, and then another clip flashes up into the chat. I reach out with my left hand, clicking on it as my fingers rub frantically over my clit, and let out a shaky moan as it plays.

I watch as his cock stiffens in his hand, his fingers rubbing in quick, sharp strokes over the tip, and I hear him groan as cum arcs from it, his hips thrusting upwards as he comes all over his hand, spattering his fingers as he grips his shaft and strokes himself harder through the orgasm. It sends me over the edge, too, and I play it again as I feel my muscles tense, the pleasure bursting through me as I cry out, a long, whimpering moan spilling from my lips as I come hard to the sight of Venom coming for me.

Breathless, I sit there for a second, coming down from the high. I can still feel the aftershocks quivering through me when I reach out to tell him how good that was—and see, to my disappointment, that he’s already logged off.

I bite my lip, trying to shove the feeling away. It’s an Internet chat site for getting off, Charlotte, I tell myself firmly. And he got off. What do you think he was going to do, sit and virtually snuggle afterwards?

I need to get my head on straight. I’m disappointed that a faceless man online logged out abruptly after getting what we were both there for, and while I know it’s probably tied to having also been let down by Ivan earlier, I know I’m being ridiculous.

Shoving my chair back, I strip out of my clothes and go to clean up, changing into my pajamas afterward. I make myself a cup of tea, downloading a dating app while I do, and slide into bed, signing in and starting to flip through the profiles of the men signed up there.

Nice, normal men, I tell myself firmly, as I look through them. Men with golden retrievers and pictures of them hiking. Men who have jobs they can tell me about. Men who will suggest apple-picking dates themselves—that don’t involve stalking me through them at night and fucking me in the grass.

I ignore the jab of disappointment I feel at that thought, and swipe right on a few. Attractive guys, the type that looks like the sort of men I’ve always dated. Nice, and safe. Men who probably won’t rock my world in bed, but who also won’t let me down.

The fantasies have been fun. But it’s time I start thinking about where my love life is going after the fantasies have been explored.

Before I get in too deep, and can’t climb back out.