When Annabelle finds Derrick's homemade porn, their relationship as roommates changes forever. (And for the better.) Called "the mistress of literary erotica" by Violet Blue, a "literary siren" by Good Vibrations, and "hot and honest" by Publishers Weekly, Alison Tyler knows her kink.
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“You found my tape,” he said.
I looked at him, into his mesmerizing eyes, and then looked away. Yes, I’d found his tape. That was obvious. But then I thought, Why should I be mortified? He’d left the movie in the machine, the toys on display. If anyone ought to be embarrassed, it should have been Derrick. I stared at him. He didn’t look embarrassed. He leaned back and regarded me carefully. There was no hiding what I’d been doing—watching his amateur porn and touching myself.
Almost as if this situation occurred to us every day, he asked, “So what did you think?”
“What did I think?” I echoed. What did I think? It was clear to both of us, wasn’t it? He’d caught me masturbating in our living room as if I no longer had any semblance of self-control. There was no need to staple words to the image, was there?
Derrick settled back. He seemed perfectly at ease to wait for my response.
“I was shocked,” I told him truthfully.
“You don’t look shocked.”
“I mean, surprised,” I countered.
“Nope, not that either.”
“Well, I was,” I said pointedly. “I didn’t know you were kinky.”
“You never asked.”
I pondered that for a moment. No, I hadn’t asked him. Because who does things like that? “Coffee’s ready, and oh, by the way, are you kinky? Do you tie your dates up? Do you make them beg you for spankings?”
“I know you’re kinky,” he said, and I felt my cheeks get even warmer...
###
“You found my tape,” he said.
I looked at him, into his mesmerizing eyes, and then looked away. Yes, I’d found his tape. That was obvious. But then I thought, Why should I be mortified? He’d left the movie in the machine, the toys on display. If anyone ought to be embarrassed, it should have been Derrick. I stared at him. He didn’t look embarrassed. He leaned back and regarded me carefully. There was no hiding what I’d been doing—watching his amateur porn and touching myself.
Almost as if this situation occurred to us every day, he asked, “So what did you think?”
“What did I think?” I echoed. What did I think? It was clear to both of us, wasn’t it? He’d caught me masturbating in our living room as if I no longer had any semblance of self-control. There was no need to staple words to the image, was there?
Derrick settled back. He seemed perfectly at ease to wait for my response.
“I was shocked,” I told him truthfully.
“You don’t look shocked.”
“I mean, surprised,” I countered.
“Nope, not that either.”
“Well, I was,” I said pointedly. “I didn’t know you were kinky.”
“You never asked.”
I pondered that for a moment. No, I hadn’t asked him. Because who does things like that? “Coffee’s ready, and oh, by the way, are you kinky? Do you tie your dates up? Do you make them beg you for spankings?”
“I know you’re kinky,” he said, and I felt my cheeks get even warmer...
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