Misbehaving(9)By: Tiffany Reisz
“Beep,” Beatriz said.
“Hi Bea, it’s Claudia,” Claudia began. Bea often faked her own answering machine, especially when she knew who was calling for the sole purpose of annoying them. That’s okay. Claudia knew exactly how to get her revenge. “I just wanted you to know that Ben was into you during college, and he still is. Henry asked him not to pursue you because of me. That’s all. No need to call me back. Bye. Oh, and if you ask him to have sex with you this week so you can work on your book report thingie, he probably would go for it.”
Claudia hung up the phone. Immediately her hotel phone rang. She didn’t answer it. She heard a buzzing from her purse—Beatriz calling her cell. She ignored that call as well.
Five minutes and fifteen unanswered phone calls later, Henry walked back in the room. Claudia lay naked on the bed. She rose up on her elbows and looked at him with a cocked eyebrow.
“So?” she asked.
“He’s on his way to her room right now.”
“Good,” Claudia said. “Now we can have sex.”
Ben stared at the door to Beatriz’s hotel room. She was there, behind that door. Right there. The last time he’d seen her she’d been completely naked and standing in his dorm room. That was five years ago. So much had happened since then. He’d gotten his first real job working for Google, gotten promoted and almost gotten engaged. This could have been his wedding weekend, but thankfully he realized his girlfriend wasn’t in love with him, only with the idea of being married. Neither of them cried over the breakup. A good sign that breaking up was the right thing to do. He’d moved three times since college and changed jobs twice, but during all that he’d held on to one constant—Beatriz.
She probably didn’t know he read her Miss Bea Haven column she wrote for The Daily Cocktail. He’d messaged Claudia on Facebook last year and asked, as casually as he could, what Beatriz was up to. Living in Spain, Claudia said. She had a great job working as a translator for a European publisher. Oh, Claudia added in the P.S., Beatriz also wrote a column for a big website that acted as the repository of all things sex on the internet. Beatriz reviewed sex toys and sex books. Nice work if you could get it, Claudia joked. Just a joke. Ben had likely broken some sort of internet record for fastest ever Google search. He found the column and read every single post Beatriz had written. He hadn’t read them all at once. He had to take a break—or two or three—between articles. Beatriz wrote in detail about her experiences with different types of vibrators—what worked for her, what didn’t, how she used them, how they made her feel. He could just see that beautiful woman lying naked on her bed pleasuring herself for hours on end. Who needed porn when he had these sex toy reviews? Knowing Beatriz, she’d stop every few minutes to take notes—vibrator in one hand, notepad in the other.
Ben even had whole sentences from her reviews memorized. He hadn’t tried to memorize them. He wasn’t that much of a desperate, horny stalker. But certain sentences had burned themselves into his mind.
The Lady Angel vibrator was a comfortable fit for a woman who enjoys deep penetration and a wide shaft as much as I do.
The orgasm the Black Prince produces makes your PC muscles buck like a stallion. My partner’s tongue provided the clitoral stimulation. The resulting orgasm was a top ten moment.
The G-spot massager from the Sirena series should come with a warning—don’t use on a day you actually need to get out of your bed. I had so much fun with it that I had ten orgasms in one day and had to change my sheets twice.
He’d never been so jealous of sex toys in his life. What he wouldn’t give to curl up in bed with Beatriz while she did her work, watching her come over and over again. He’d happily lend a helping hand. Or two. And once she came she would be so wet he could slide right inside her and stay there all day and all night long.
“Down, boy,” Ben said to his erection. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself. He still couldn’t believe he was doing this, standing outside Bea’s door. But Henry had been annoyingly insistent.