Page 87 of The Fed Sex Man

“What is it?” I gave him a cross look. “It better not be a spider.”

“It’s not.”

I held out my hand, but quickly retracted it. “What is it?”

“It’s for you,” he said with a nod. “Trust me.”

According to Jenny, men couldn’t be trusted. I placed my upturned palm under his hand and prayed she was wrong. He opened his fist. A key fell into my hand.

“What’s this?” I asked.

He nodded toward my hand. “A key to my house.”

I was flattered. Flattered and somewhat confused. More confused than anything, really. As I gazed at the key, not quite understanding what was going on, he handed me a small sheet of folded paper.

“That’s my address, and the code to my alarm system,” he said. “There’s a pad on the edge of the left garage door frame. Just like it says on the paper, press the number, then the pound symbol. The alarm will disarm. The asterisk symbol will open the garage door, and the key will open any door that goes into the house. They’re all keyed the same.”

“Uhhm. Okay.” I looked at the items, and then at him. “Are you planning on going somewhere?”

“No, I just wanted to, I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I wanted to be as transparent as possible. You can come over any time. I’ve got nothing to hide.”

I had no idea why he was doing what he was doing, but I liked it. I struggled not to giggle. “Okay. Thank you.”

He slid his phone across the desk. “Look at that.”

“I’ve seen it. It’s the new Samsung. It’s pretty.”

He pointed to the phone. “Look at it. Swipe the screen and have a look.”

“At what?”

“My contacts,” he blurted. “Or, my lack of contacts. I took all the women out of my phone that I’ve…that I…” He gestured toward the phone. “Let’s just say that there’s no women’s numbers in my phone except for my insurance agent, my doctor, and maybe a few other that are clearly professional.”

“I believe you.” I pushed the phone toward his hand. “I don’t need to look at it.”

Using the tip of his finger, he flicked it to the center of my desk. “I want you to look at it. I deleted pictures, too. About three thousand of them.”

I choked out a laugh. “Of what?”

“I don’t know. Stuff. Girls tits and shit like that.”

“You had pictures of three thousand women’s boobs?”

He raised his brows and shrugged. “Some were duplicates.”

“Still, that’s a lot of boobs.”

“Well, they’re gone. I just wanted to stop by and let you know that I’m truly devoted to this. I want everything to work out between us. I’m not trying to be sappy or a pussy or anything, but I want to be honest. It’s important that you know I’m being straightforward. I want you to trust me.”

“I do,” I said. “I want you to trust me, too. I don’t have any dick pictures or guy’s numbers, though. I do have a lot of porn sites saved to my favorites on my laptop, but I don’t communicate with those guys, I just look at their dicks.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and lifted his chin a little. “You watch porn?”

If he was going to be transparent, so was I. Honesty was the key to our relationship surviving long-term.

“Yeah. Pretty much nightly,” I admitted. “I think I might have a problem with it, but we can discuss that some other time.”

“That’s cool,” he said. “I’m okay with you watching it. I think.”