Pay-Per-Heart

by Grace McGinty

When God had been handing out beauty, I’d been finger-painting with boogers at the back of the line.

There were three things you shouldn’t skimp on in life: a new bed, hair appointments, and things that will give you countless years of orgasms. Pretty sure Nostradamus said that.

Actually, Pavlov’s dogs and my nether regions had a lot of similarities at that moment; apparently we’d both been conditioned to get a little moist around the lips on command.

So I would do what any smart, mature woman would do. I was going to ignore it and pretend it never happened, while secretly thinking about it late at night while I touched myself. Like a grown-up.

“Watch it, bitch,” he growled, and Dani’s cheeks flushed red. “You watch it, bitch. I didn’t know having a dick gave you automatic right of way,” she snapped back,