Page 41 of The Boyfriend Experience

Maybe I should keep him for myself? I mean, I did buy him for two weeks. I could just pretend this is a game for her and make it mine, couldn’t I?

I bite my lip as I think about this. I already broke my no-sex rule. He probably thinks I’m an easy slut.

No, he said I was sweet and delicious. That has to count for something. And while I don’t have a great recollection of him getting off last night, I know he did.

I know he did.

Didn’t he?

Shit. What if I passed out before he got his turn?

I chew on my lip as I think about that. And while I’m doing that, I hear my phone ding an incoming text from… somewhere.

I look around, find my purse on the side of the couch, and dig around inside to find my phone.

Unknown number: Did you follow instructions?

Me: Who is this?

Obviously it’s Law, but I feel like being silly for some reason.

Unknown number: Look out your window to the east and find out.

I get up, walk over to the window, open the slider, and step outside.

Lawton Ayers is waving at me from his terrace looking hot as fuck in a pair of tan cargo shorts and nothing else.

“Hey!” he yells.

Which makes me giggle and walk over to the edge of my terrace to look down and see if anyone can hear him.

There’s a few people gawking up at him from the alley, but fuck it. I yell back, “I have one question for you.”

“Shoot, Oaklee.”

Jesus. I laugh. Because shoot and Oaklee—that’s kinda funny. “Did you…” But I can’t bring myself to yell it across the city.

“Did I come?” he yells back.

I put a hand on my forehead and feel the heat creeping up my cheeks.

“Yes,” he calls. “Twice.”

I nod my head and smile. “Good.”

“You look sexy in that, by the way. And I’m not trying to be a dick or anything, but if you’re still wearing that nightie that means you didn’t follow instructions.”

“I was just about to,” I yell.

“Hop to it, Oaks. It’s already eleven thirty and I’ll be there at one. On the dot.” Then he waves at me and goes back inside his apartment, closing up his slider behind him.

Someone whistles at me from the alley below, so I back away and go inside, closing my slider behind me too.

I don’t know what to think about this. I just twist the cap on the first bottle of coconut water and take a long gulp. Then I walk back over to the window and look out at his terrace, picturing that whole interaction in my head. Hell, who am I kidding? I’m reliving the whole goddamned night.

Freak. He is a freak in bed. Who’d have thought, right? This fancy-suit real-estate guy could rock my entire world. Seven. Times. In one night.

I absently walk back over to the kitchen island and pop the two ibuprofen in my mouth, then swallow them down with the coconut water and head to my gym. Because working out is a time to think for me.