Prologue
Seven Years Ago
Maggie
“So, I had a fistful of her hair in my hand, and we were all in the moment when I looked her right in the eye and said, ‘Suck my cock like a good little girl.’ The next thing I knew, she reared back her fist and clocked me straight in the face.”
I nearly choke on my Chardonnay. Across the table, my friend, Emerson, entertains us with his most recent bedroom trauma. It’s always something with these guys. Every Thursday, we meet up for drinks and everyone shares some outlandish sexcapade story to regale us with while I sit silently at the end and wonder how the hell I got here.
While the men all react with winces and curses, I quietly find the words to add to the conversation.
“I don’t think she liked that,” I say with forced laughter, and naturally, they think I’m joking, responding with their own sarcastic replies.
“You think?” Emerson shoots back with a pained smile, using his beer like an ice pack against his bruised face.
I met Emerson a few years ago when I organized an event for his failed startup. After that, he started working for this company and begged me to join him. Unlike most men I work with, Emerson doesn’t see my assertiveness as a threat. He seems to appreciate me for all the things that others like to berate me for having.
I’m a control freak. I’m great at both delegating and giving orders. And I don’t let others push me around or make me feel stupid. Which is exactly why I took the job with Emerson.
Do I despise the company we work for? Absolutely. It’s a mess, unorganized, corrupt, and run by complete imbeciles.
But I love working with these three. Emerson, Garrett, and Hunter are rare. They don’t talk over me or belittle my ideas. They actually listen to me, and as is apparent tonight, they treat me like a friend. Even though I can’t exactly join in on their crazy sex stories.
I mean…they’re three single men in their prime. I can’t exactly say I’m surprised.
“I thought we were getting along great,” Emerson says, looking genuinely despondent after his failed attempt to be the slightest bit adventurous in the bedroom. “She seemed kinky enough, and she definitely appeared into it, but I guess I was wrong. Not a fan of a little sexy degradation, apparently.”
I take a sip of my wine without responding to that last comment. Maybe I should explain to Emerson that not all women like to be degraded. There’s a good chance she’s been humiliated so much she’s grown a defense to it. Or I could let Emerson in on the little secret that women ‘appear into it’ more often than they actually are.
In this case, I bet shewasinto it. Emerson is handsome and confident and is probably great in bed. But if a man ever grabbed my hair and spoke to me like that, I’d slug him in the face too.
“Fuck, man,” Garrett says with a scowl. “It’s bullshit that there isn’t a way to match people up by the kinky shit they like to do in the bedroom.”
As the guys laugh at him, I stare in contemplation.
“I’m fucking serious. How nice would it be if you could meet up with someone who likes the same weird shit you do? You wouldn’t have to hide it or be embarrassed by the kinks that get your panties wet.”
This time I do laugh because this whole thing with Emerson could have been avoided with a simple conversation with his partner, and the fact that Garrett seriously thinks an app will solve that problem for him is laughable.Men.
“You’re fucking crazy, Garrett,” Hunter says with his girlfriend, Isabel, by his side.
“I am not,” Garrett argues. “Who here doesn’t have some freaky bedroom desires you’ve always wanted to do but are too afraid to ask? I mean, obviously, Emerson isn’t afraid to ask.”
There’s more laughter and jeering, teasing Garrett because they take everything he says as a joke. And I guess, so do I because what he’s proposing is easy to imagine—from a man’s perspective. No shame. No fear. No creepy assholes waiting to take advantage of you. In a perfect world, an app like this would be awesome. But we don’t live in a perfect world, and Garrett has no clue what it would be like for women.
“Come on. I’m serious,” Garrett replies. “Out of all the shit you’ve done, what is the one thing you wish you could ask for? You know you have something. So let’s hear it.”
“You first,” I say, knocking the ball back in his court.
“Fine.” After straightening his spine, and mustering his courage, he announces, “I like to watch.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Of course, he does. No one can be surprised by that. But the guys still show their interest and I sit back and smile. When it comes around to Hunter, he deflects, naturally. But it’s the demure redhead on his right that proudly announces her taste for group activities, whichreallystirs up the conversation. I give her props for owning up to that.
But when their eyes all fall on me, I shake my head vehemently.
“Don’t look at me,” I announce.
“Come on, Mags,” Hunter says with a smile.