Fuck. Is he testing me? Did Jorie tell him we talked? Had lunch? Do I lie? Do I tell him the truth that we did, in fact, hookup but not for lunch. We hooked up and fucked all night.
“Um… no,” I say, throwing caution to the wind and lying my ass off. “She didn’t.”
I wince and wait for Micah’s next words, my entire frame feeling weak with the guilt for what I’m doing. I’m not always a good guy, but I am loyal and forthright with my friends. Especially Micah.
Always with Micah, actually.
Until I fucked Jorie.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“Well, you might want to give her a call,” Micah suggests, and I exhale so hard in relief my lungs almost completely deflate. “I think she’s been a little down since all this shit with Vince. It would be nice for her to see a friendly face.”
Like friendly as in my face between her legs? Because she’s seen that plenty.
“Yeah, sure thing, buddy,” I say as I walk into my bathroom, then move to change the subject. “What’s up with you?”
“Aren’t you going to ask for her number?” Micah asks.
More guilt… a punch to the gut that I’m doing something Micah would go ballistic and would probably sever our friendship over. “I’m getting ready to jump in the shower and don’t have anything to write it down with. Just text it to me,” I say easily.
“Will do,” he returns. “So, I’m working on an updated design for a power dildo.”
I laugh, relieved to be talking about dildos with my best friend. “What’s the concept?” I ask as I turn on the shower and step back to let the water warm up. I lean against the marbled vanity as I listen to Micah explain.
The man is a brilliant engineer and founded a premier firm in San Francisco almost five years ago. He’d started out in Michigan after graduating from college, soaked up as much knowledge on the business side as he could, and moved to northern California after Jorie turned of age.
But despite his success and money, he’s turned a kinky hobby into a business concept that might have some legs. He started dabbling in these sex machines just to get his girlfriends’ rocks off, but Jerico paid him good money for that dildo machine and the chance to try it out, and a niche business suddenly looks to be feasible. Micah can certainly do it on the side and still maintain his professional business.
“What do you think?” he asks me solemnly after he tells me about the concept.
Let’s see… he envisions a contraption that will hoist a spread-eagled, tied-with-rope woman in the air and drill a mechanical power dildo into her from above?
“Fucking fantastic idea,” I tell him, and my dick gets rock hard as an image of Jorie in that contraption erupts within my mind.
Christ. My hand goes to rub myself through my gym shorts, but then my erection starts to fade when Micah says, “Thought you’d like that. But listen… I got to go. I’m texting you Jorie’s number. Maybe take her out to lunch or breakfast or something, okay? Help get her mind off that asshole husband of hers.”
“Okay,” I say hoarsely as a wave of shame from my deception threatens to render me impotent forever.
That’s it. Decision made. I absolutely cannot do this with Jorie.
“Thanks, man,” he says. “You’re the best.”
“Back at you,” I mutter, and we say our goodbyes.
I turn and set my phone on the vanity, the shower now emitting steam from behind me. Morose eyes stare back at me from the mirror. There’s a woman I want more than anything in the world, and I absolutely cannot have her.
Micah made sure of that three years ago after my divorce finalized with Renee.
It was a time to get together with my best friend and confidant. To mourn the loss of my marriage, or perhaps it was to celebrate since it started a new chapter in my life. Micah never came to Vegas because he hated the glitz and touristy nature. He had no family left at all except for Jorie, and she was in Los Angeles living her life. I often chartered a plane to San Francisco to party with Micah, so it was the logical place for me to go the weekend after I got the divorce papers filed.
We got drunk.
Well, I got supremely drunk that first night.
I woke up in his apartment, in the guest bedroom with a naked woman on top of me. I remember raising my throbbing head off the pillow and looking at her with bleary eyes, not recognizing her or remembering a damn thing about what we did.
After I rolled her off me, I stumbled into Micah’s kitchen, jonesing for some coffee and promising myself I’d never drink again. My stomach was threatening to rebel. My headache was so intense everything was blurry.