The Ex (18+ Only) [COMPLETED]

2: In Which She Gets Stuck in an Ele-Elevator

2: In Which She Gets Stuck in an Ele-Elevator

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It was huge.

Bigger than I’d ever seen.

At my wide eyes, Cat gave me a knowing look. “I call this one The Mammoth,” she said in mock-awe. “Buy it, love. You won’t be disappointed.”

It was a shocking-pink and displayed like a trophy. Actually, I thought, glancing around the single room that made up The Gift of Touch, they’re all displayed like trophies.

Cat blinked at me. “Well?”

She looked at home among the gaudy sex toys, like a mammal in its natural habitat. Her auburn hair was cropped short, emphasising the high crests of her cheekbones and the jut of her pointy chin. It was freezing outside yet she appeared to be none the wiser in an electric-yellow mini and black strappy sandals. If anyone could recommend a sex toy, it was the sexy Cat Baker.

Fixing her azure eyes on me, she said conspiratorially, “I deal with a lot of first-timers who don’t understand that pleasuring oneself is an activity best taken advantage of. Díldos and vibrators were made to be enjoyed, not feared. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“I’m not afraid of the damn thing,” I muttered defiantly, glancing at the magazine display stand by the door. I’d never seen so many copies of Hustler since I’d stumbled into my pervy cousin, Edward’s bedroom when we were teens. “I’ve just never used one, is all.”

“Do you mastúrbate?”

“What?”

“Do you at least use your hand?” she amended with a grin, clearly enjoying my discomfort.

Every single night, I mentally admitted.

“I suppose so,” I said to her, shrugging even when I felt like covering my face and hiding in the nearest corner. “Doesn’t everyone...use their hand?”

Cat shook her head. “Nope. Some of us have a Mammoth.”

I snatched the box from the shelf. “Ring this up, then.”

Despite her brazen attitude, she put the toy into a discreet brown paper bag before handing it over. To the outside world – especially the old busybodies of Parishville who would certainly have a field day with such knowledge – it would look like an everyday shopping bag. Sliding my shades on, I practically sprinted outside and collided head-on into a boulder of a person. The bag split at the bottom and the sex toy unceremoniously fell to the ground.

“The Gift of Touch?”

The stars are conniving against me.

Konstantin stooped low, snatching the box up before handing it to me, a slow, teasing smile spreading across his face. “Please tell me that this is a gift for one of your bored, sexually frustrated friends. This thing looks like it could do some real damage.”

I reddened. “Have you moved into town or something?” Two sightings of Konstantin in less than a month were too much for me. My sex-starved brain wasn’t going to last.

I mean, I couldn’t ignore how good he looked. No one in Parishville wore suits or any other kind of formal wear, even the businessmen. Konstantin’s black waistcoat and flamboyant pea-green silk shirt were utterly out of place against the backdrop of our bland town. I didn’t want to analyse how the bright flash of colour accentuated his olive skin. Or how much I wanted to run my hands over the shimmering fabric and…