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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Love stories / Romance
- Subject: Relationships
- Published: 01/17/2026
Wrong Email, Right Guy
Born 1978, F, from Fort Worth, Texas, United States.jpeg)
Kobra opened her email and saw a message from someone she didn’t recognize.
**Subject: Need an Escort for a Night**
“What in the actual—?!”
That was Kobra’s usual reaction to anything that immediately felt wrong or was unusual. Curious despite herself, she opened the email.
Hello Mandy,
My name is Thomas Michaels.
My friend Derek told me about you and suggested I contact you if I ever needed *company*. I’m attending a company party this Friday night and require an escort.
I need you to be dressed very presentably—not too conservative, but not too flashy or revealing. I want the standard date experience, with a little something extra afterward.
Let me know if you’re available.
Thomas Michaels
Kobra’s first instinct was to fire back a not-so-nice response. But after a moment, she took a breath and allowed a cooler temperament to prevail. It occurred to her that the man must have gotten the email address wrong. It wasn’t uncommon, after all.
Hitting reply, she wrote:
Hello Mr. Michaels,
Your email was sent to me by mistake. My name is not Mandy. My name is Kobra Daran, and I am not an escort.
She hit send and returned to reading the rest of her emails. However, just as she was about to close out her inbox, a reply from Thomas Michaels appeared. Against her better judgment, she opened it.
Kobra—that’s a sexy name. It sounds edgy. So Mandy is an alias. I should have known. Most escorts use aliases when they don’t want to use their real names. So why not just use your actual name?
Kobra raised an eyebrow.
“Either this man is a total moron, or he didn’t read my email at all,” she muttered.
Once again, she hit reply.
Sir,
I just told you that I am **not** an escort. Please do not email me again.
She hit send and closed out her email.
II
The next day, Kobra returned home from work, kicked off her shoes, and collapsed onto the sofa. All day, a nagging feeling had followed her. Her God-given heightened intuition was on high alert—about what, she didn’t know. She couldn’t tell whether it was something good or something bad.
After resting for a moment, she got up and checked her email.
What awaited her was not what she expected.
The same email thread from the night before.
Once again—against her better judgment—she opened it.
Look, Mandy or Kobra, whatever your name is.
I’m willing to pay you good money for your company. The least you can do is not jerk me around.
If you’re no longer an escort, then just say so!
Kobra was furious now.
Hitting the reply button, she typed:
Look here, Donkey!
I politely told you that I am **not** an escort and that your email was sent to me by mistake. Instead of behaving like an entitled jerk, how about double-checking the email address you were given?
She hit send. Not trusting that he would actually read it, she immediately blocked the email address. With that done, she turned her attention to making dinner.
◾◾◾◾
Thomas tried to reply but discovered that his email had been blocked. Furious, he called his friend Derek.
“Hello?” Derek answered.
“Mandy—or Kobra, or whatever her name is—she blocked me,” Thomas snapped.
“She blocked you?” Derek asked.
“Yes. Blocked me,” Thomas said.
Derek was silent for a moment before speaking.
“Tom, read back the email address I gave you.”
Thomas did.
“Now check it again and make sure you entered it correctly,” Derek said.
“I did!” Thomas insisted.
“Check anyway,” Derek replied.
As Thomas compared the two, he realized his mistake—he was off by two letters and a number.
“Crap,” Thomas muttered.
“Dude, relax. It happens,” Derek said. “Just email Mandy and don’t worry about the woman you contacted by mistake.”
“Alright,” Thomas said.
After finally emailing Mandy—and receiving her reply agreeing to be his date on Friday—a nagging feeling settled in. He felt guilty about mistakenly emailing the wrong woman and wanted to apologize, but he couldn’t. She had blocked him.
And yet, he couldn’t stop thinking about her.
Her name lingered in his mind...Kobra
It was unique. He had never known a woman with a name like that. It stirred his curiosity. He wondered what she looked like, what her interests were, what kind of woman carried a name so sharp and unapologetic.
Somehow, he found himself caught up in the mystery of a woman he had thoroughly pissed off. An image flashed through his mind—her scratching his eyes out if they ever met.
Oddly enough, the thought sent a shiver of excitement through him.
“Kobra Daran,” he said aloud. “Who are you?”
III
The date with Mandy went well—but she turned out to be boring. Even the *something extra* afterward felt uninspired. He compared the entire date to vanilla ice cream.
Thomas paid Mandy her standard rate along with a generous tip and watched as she exited his high-end condo.
Later, lying bare-chested beneath the covers, he turned his head toward the bedroom window. His mind drifted, lingering on one name—
Kobra.
Throughout the entire date, he had found himself imagining what she might look like. Her name had captivated him in a way he couldn’t explain.
“Kobra Daran,” he murmured aloud. “Who are you? What are you like? What makes you smile? What makes you sad?”
He shifted his gaze to the ceiling.
“Dear God,” he said quietly, “I know you and I don’t talk much. And you’re probably not thrilled about the escort I just slept with.” He paused, then continued. “But something has me curious. The woman—Kobra Daran. If I could just meet her… if you could somehow bring us together, I’d be grateful.”
As he lay there, sleep eventually claimed him.
In the depth of it, he heard a voice.
*I’m not the easiest person to deal with. One needs to be very patient and unusually understanding. If you are not that man… it’s best you tell me now.*
Thomas opened his eyes, the words echoing in his mind. There was loneliness in them. Uncertainty. Something almost heartbreaking.
“Whatever happens,” he whispered, “I will be patient and understanding.”
He didn’t know why he said it—only that it felt necessary, as though the words themselves mattered.
◾◾◾◾
Kobra sat in the Luxe Lounge, watching as her friends Claudia and Paloma danced with their husbands. She had accepted a few dance invitations herself, but the last man she danced with turned out to be a complete jerk—asking sexually inappropriate questions and trying to grab her breasts and backside.
She immediately walked away and returned to the table where she and her friends were sitting. Unfortunately, he didn’t get the hint. It wasn’t until Claudia’s husband, Rex, leaned in and quietly informed the man that he would need a surgeon to remove Rex’s shoe from his rear end if he didn’t leave Kobra alone.
That message landed and the crude gentleman quickly disappeared into the crowd.
That kind of nonsense was exactly why Kobra avoided places like the Luxe Lounge. She sat at the table, nursing a Fuzzy Navel until boredom settled in. Finishing her drink, she stood and made her way back to her friends, letting them know she was heading home. They tried to convince her to stay, but she was adamant.
Once outside the club, she flagged down a taxi, slid into the back seat, and gave the driver her address.
As the car moved through the city, she caught her reflection in the rearview mirror. A lovely woman looked back at her—light brown eyes, a slightly deep café-au-lait complexion, and long dark brown hair streaked sporadically with dark pink. Her figure was full and curvy—some might even say voluptuous. Yet she had always considered herself a plain Jane… well, maybe not entirely plain, given her slightly unusual style.
The taxi pulled up to her apartment complex. She paid the fare, thanked the driver, and headed inside.
Once in her apartment, she leaned against the door and looked up at the ceiling.
“Heavenly Father,” she said quietly, “the next time my friends talk me into a night out, please guide them to choose less sleazy places.”
Her gaze drifted to the framed hanging on the living room wall—a gift from her uncle.
*Remember, no matter how small or insignificant the prayer… God hears them all.*
Reading it made her smile. It always helped keep her grounded—sane, even.
She moved away from the door and went into her bedroom, changing out of her fitted leopard-print dress and into a cozy green nightgown that brushed her ankles. After removing her makeup, pulling her hair into a ponytail, and wrapping it in a satin scarf, she climbed into bed. Reaching over, she picked up the book she’d been reading—a slightly kinky romance novel set in a fantasy world.
It stood out among her shelves filled with books on ancient civilizations and folklore, astrology and astronomy, a plain-English translation of Shakespeare’s plays, and an eclectic collection of graphic novels and single-issue comic books.
Kobra was complex—not complicated, just complex.
She didn’t fit neatly into any one category. She was emotional—sometimes too emotional. She imagined short scenarios inspired by songs and wrote them down. She watched movies ranging from drama and action to comedy and fantasy. Her taste in music spanned genres. She had no interest in politics, social media, or reality television.
She preferred small gatherings with people she knew. And when she had something to say, she said it.
Some people thought she was too timid. Too quiet. Too emotional. Others claimed she was naïve or not outgoing enough. Frankly, she was tired of hearing it all.
She just wanted to be herself—the outlandish nail-polish-wearing, pink-streaked-haired, cat-eye-glasses weirdo who loved celestial things and believed the universe was far bigger than most people ever imagined.
After reading for a while, she slipped a bookmark between the pages and set the book on the nightstand. She reached for her phone and scrolled through it before tapping on a new app called **Echo-Me**.
The app was a social interactive platform that allowed users to upload a photo, choose ten words that described or resonated with them, and select two songs that reflected their personality. The songs she chose were U2’s *I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For* and TLC’s *No Scrubs*.
She checked to see if anyone had left her a message, then scrolled through a few profiles. None of them really stood out. After a moment, she closed the app and placed her phone back on the nightstand.
Sliding beneath the covers, she lay down and turned off the lamp.
“Dear God,” she whispered, “thank you for all that you do. Please continue to walk with me and watch over my family and friends. Amen.”
She closed her eyes and drifted into sleep.
◾◾◾◾
Thomas sat on the sofa in his condo, tablet in hand. He had just signed up for **Echo-Me**. Unsure of what to expect, he uploaded a photo of himself. Once it was approved, he was prompted to choose ten words that described or resonated with him.
He selected: **Driven, Confident, Stubborn, Curious, Privileged, Charming, Restless, Protective, Reckless,** and **Single-minded**—at least, that’s what a few friends had pointed out to him.
For his music choices, he selected *Smooth* by Rob Thomas and Carlos Santana, and *Kiss from a Rose* by Seal.
Reviewing his profile, he smiled and tapped Save. Then he began scrolling through other profiles. Some were alluring—maybe too alluring. Others felt like exaggerated performances clearly fishing for the wrong kind of attention.
He even came across Mandy’s profile.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered.
He was about to close the app when something nudged him to keep looking. Scrolling a bit more, he froze.
There she was.
Kobra.
He tapped on her profile. The words she had chosen were: **Intuitive, Weird, Creative, Reserved, Resilient, Curvy, Friendly, Spirited, Nerdy,** and **Daydreamer**.
He listened to the songs she’d selected and read her explanations. *No Scrubs*, she wrote, reflected her low-to-zero tolerance for arrogant nonsense. That made him wince. His mind immediately flashed back to the email—how he had arrogantly assumed she was Mandy, and how dismissive he’d been when she politely corrected him.
The memory made him cringe.
When it came to *I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For*, she explained that while she prayed and believed in God, she wasn’t perfect—just a work in progress. She described herself as complex, though some might call her complicated.
At the end, she wrote:
*I’m not the easiest person to deal with. One needs to be very patient and unusually understanding. If you are not that man… it’s best you tell me now.*
Thomas felt his breath catch.
Those words.
They were the very words he had heard as he drifted to sleep.
He tapped the message button. The app allowed either text or audio. He chose audio.
Once ready, he spoke:
“Hello, Kobra. My name is Thomas Michaels. I believe we’ve met—unintentionally. I was the idiot who emailed you by mistake, thinking you were an escort. I wanted to apologize for that—and for my behavior afterward.”
He paused, then continued.
“I like your profile. You have beautiful eyes, and I like the dark pink streaks in your hair. After reading what you wrote, I’d really like to get to know you—maybe have lunch sometime. You have my word that I won’t be a donkey.” A small smile tugged at his mouth. “And lastly… whatever happens, I will be patient and understanding.”
He tapped Stop, saved the message, and closed the app.
“I hope she answers,” he said softly.
IV
Kobra awoke suddenly in the middle of the night.
She didn’t need to use the bathroom, so why was she awake? Turning on her lamp, she reached for her phone and saw the time: 4:04 a.m. Then she noticed a notification from Echo-Me.
Curious, she opened the app and saw she had received an audio message. She tapped it and listened.
**“Hello, Kobra. My name is Thomas Michaels. I believe we’ve met—unintentionally. I was the idiot who emailed you by mistake, thinking you were an escort. I wanted to apologize for that—and for my behavior afterward. I like your profile. You have beautiful eyes, and I like the dark pink streaks in your hair. After reading what you wrote, I’d really like to get to know you—maybe have lunch sometime. You have my word that I won’t be a donkey. And lastly… whatever happens, I will be patient and understanding.”**
When the message ended, she tapped on his profile and studied his picture. A smile curved her lips—she liked what she saw.
Dark blond hair, hazel eyes, a neatly kept goatee, and a medium-fair complexion.
She decided to send him a text reply.
*Hello, Thomas. Apology accepted. I’d like to meet you for lunch. How about Cantina Encanto? You can email me—I’ll unblock your address. Let me know.*
After hitting Send, she slipped out of bed, powered on her PC, and logged into her email. She removed Thomas’s address from the block list, then returned to bed and switched off the lamp.
“Dear God,” she whispered, “wherever this is going… let it be something wonderful. Amen.”
She closed her eyes and drifted back into sleep.
◾◾◾◾
The Next Morning — 9:59 a.m.
Thomas sat in his office at the accounting firm where he worked. It was a slow day. He opened his laptop and checked his email, then reached for his phone and tapped on **Echo-Me**.
A few messages waited for him. One was from Mandy, once again offering her services.
He sighed, deleted it, and skimmed past the rest—until he saw a message from Kobra.
She had answered him.
Smiling, he logged into his email and replied.
Hello Kobra,
I’m glad you got back to me. Lunch at Cantina Encanto works perfectly. I was thinking 12:30 p.m.—if that doesn’t work for you, just let me know.
Thomas
He hit Send and found himself silently hoping she would reply.
Two minutes later, an email notification appeared. He opened it immediately.
12:30 p.m. works for me. See you there… I’ll be wearing a dark purple shirt with moons and stars on it.
Thomas smiled.
◾◾◾◾
Thomas arrived at Cantina Encanto with his heart pounding. He smoothed his dark gray suit and checked that his white shirt was spotless before stepping inside.
His eyes scanned the room, searching for the outfit she’d described.
Then he saw her.
His pulse quickened as he casually made his way over.
“Kobra?” he asked.
She looked up.
“Thomas?” she replied.
He smiled and took a seat across from her.
Seeing her in person, he found her even lovelier than her photo suggested. His gaze drifted down to her hands. Her nails were long, as he’d expected—but the color caught him off guard: concrete gray, flecked with sparkles of pink, purple, and teal.
“I notice you’re looking at my nails,” she said.
Thomas lifted his eyes to her face. She was beautiful—her slightly oval face made an unexpected but perfect match with her cat-eye glasses.
“Yes,” he said. “And I can tell you like being unique—not just for the sake of shocking people.”
“I barely shock anyone,” she replied dryly, “unless they’re so uptight that anything would have them clutching pearls and screaming, *‘That’s just unthinkable!’*”
Thomas laughed.
“You clearly don’t have a high opinion of uppity people,” he said with a smirk.
“No, I don’t. And I’d say more—but I might offend you.”
Thomas smiled gently.
“I’m the one who offended you,” he said. “I should’ve double-checked the email address instead of being an arrogant idiot.”
That made her smile.
“You have a beautiful smile,” he said.
“Thank you—and you’re handsome,” she replied.
“Thank you,” he said, sincerely.
Over lunch, they talked about everything—family, childhoods, and life. Thomas listened as Kobra spoke about herself: her learning disability, her small circle of friends—most of whom were married and busy with their own lives—and her quirky interests that few people shared. She was candid about what she liked and unapologetic about what she didn’t.
The words he had spoken earlier—*whatever happens, I’ll be patient and understanding*—echoed in his mind.
Kobra wasn’t a woman overflowing with confidence. What confidence she had was often tangled with uncertainty. And yet, something about her captivated him. Maybe it was her quirky interests. He had never thought to pick up a fictional book set in some fantastical world or an offbeat urban fantasy rooted in everyday life.
She made him wonder if perhaps *he* was the plain one—the boring, predictable one.
She understood the importance of staying informed, she said, but also pointed out that even news outlets exaggerated or failed to tell the whole story, often colored by bias.
He couldn’t argue with that.
Once lunch was over, Thomas offered to pay, but Kobra insisted on covering her own meal. He realized she probably didn’t want to give him the impression that he was obligated to pay for her.
As they stood and walked toward the exit, Thomas finally got a full look at her.
She had been honest when she chose the word *curvy* for her profile. What he hadn’t expected were curves that were soft, sensual, and perfectly shaped. Out of nowhere, an image flashed through his mind—Kobra dressed in a black leather bustier, her pink-streaked hair framing her face, cat-eye glasses perched on her nose.
The image lingered a little too long.
A strange sensation washed over Kobra, and she glanced at him. He was staring.
“Hello,” she said, snapping her fingers in front of his face.
Thomas snapped out of his self-induced trance.
“Yes?” he said, shaking his head.
Kobra raised an eyebrow. “Do I even want to know what you were thinking?”
Thomas smiled bashfully, feeling his cheeks warm.
“I hope you won’t be offended by this,” he said. “I was imagining you wearing a black leather bustier.”
Kobra planted her hands on her hips, one eyebrow arching higher as a slow smirk crossed her face.
“Someone clearly has a hidden kinky side,” she joked, her tone laced with flirtation.
Thomas shifted uncomfortably. “Honestly, I’ve never had thoughts like that before.”
Hearing that stunned her.
“And here I thought you were the type who liked handcuffing a woman to the bed,” she teased.
Now it was Thomas’s turn to be stunned. The look on his face made that obvious—and Kobra burst out laughing.
“What do you want to know, Thomas Michaels?” she asked, crossing her arms and grinning.
“Have you actually…?” he began, then trailed off.
“No,” she replied. “But I’ve thought about it. I’ve even talked to a few dommes at the logistics company where I work. I’ve read a couple of books, too—not counting that trilogy that had women all over the world panting over a millionaire with control issues. I made it to book three, skipped to the end, and sold them. I’ve read better erotic fiction.”
Thomas stared at her, stunned once again—this time with his mouth hanging open.
Kobra smirked, clearly enjoying herself.
“I’m shocking you,” she said with a giggle. “And I’m not even trying.”
Thomas finally found his voice.
“I could tell you were unique—from your clothes, your hair, your interests. But the rest of this? I didn’t see coming.”
A question had been nagging at Kobra for a while. Finally, she asked it.
“What was your first thought about me—before we met in person?” she asked, curiosity threading her voice.
Thomas grinned.
“Before I even saw your face? After our little email exchange, once I realized my mistake?” He chuckled. “I imagined you wanting to scratch my eyes out. And for some reason… that turned me on.”
Kobra smiled and snickered, folding her arms.
“Dude, I wouldn’t scratch your eyes out,” she said. “Your back, though? That might get clawed up.”
She delivered the line with a knowing smile.
On cue, Thomas’s mouth fell open again. Kobra reached up, placed her fingers under his chin, and gently closed it.
“You don’t want people wondering why your mouth is hanging open,” she said.
“No,” he replied breathlessly. “I wouldn’t. But… wow.”
Kobra laughed.
“I need to get back to work,” she said. “You can call me later.”
She leaned in, kissed him on the cheek, and walked away.
Thomas stood there, shaking his head.
“Dear God,” he murmured, “I know I asked You to bring Kobra and me together. But now I’m asking—help me hang on for dear life. Because whatever comes next is going to shake things up… probably for good. And I hope it does.”
V
Three Months Later
Things were no longer the same for Thomas Michaels and Kobra Daran.
Thomas found himself joyfully immersed in books—urban fantasy, magical realism, and even a few kinky romances here and there. He began learning about astrology and astronomy, ancient history, and even developed an appreciation for Shakespeare.
Kobra, in turn, learned more about accounting. It helped her work through her delayed math skills and even picked up a few financial tips that added welcome numbers to her bank account.
She finally got to ride in a Ferrari when Thomas took her to a local dealership that included a private driving track. She also learned more about wine—something Thomas was pleased to discover she genuinely wanted to explore.
And Thomas, for his part, learned a few things from Kobra as well: the freedom of not always needing to be polished or pretentious, and the realization that being odd was simply another form of *normal*.
It was nighttime when Thomas arrived at a club called ‘Odd-Dream’. The moment he stepped inside, he understood exactly how it had earned its name.
The club was small—but not so small that it felt like a hole in the wall. At the same time, it was far from a mega-club, occupying only a single story. The interior was a deliberate mishmash of aesthetics: sophisticated whimsy blended with light industrial elements and Art Deco–neon accents. Unusual didn’t quite cover it.
Thomas immediately felt a little out of place in his dark gray blazer, white button-down shirt, and neatly tailored trousers—casual yet polished, but tame compared to the crowd around him.
Everyone else was dressed in a spectrum of styles that ranged from typical club attire to ensembles that leaned heavily into goth, vintage, and even bold combinations of 1920s flair fused with modern edge.
He scanned the room and finally spotted Kobra standing off to the side on a slightly raised platform. She was wearing a black lace and pink satin bustier paired with a fitted black leather skirt that hugged her knees, black ankle-strap block heels, and black fingerless, opera-length gloves. Her hair was styled in soft waves, reminiscent of the 1940s.
Thomas stood there in awe.
She was stunning.
Kobra turned, her smile widening the moment her eyes landed on Thomas. She hurried over and kissed him.
“Hey, darling,” she said.
“Hey, babe,” he replied, staring into her eyes.
Kobra wrapped her arms around his waist, holding his gaze.
“This place…” he said, glancing around. “I can see why it’s called Odd-Dream.”
Kobra giggled.
“It’s one of the few places I actually enjoy coming to.”
“Well, it’s definitely different,” he said.
Just then, *React* by the Pussycat Dolls began to play. Kobra’s friends Claudia and Paloma made their way onto the dance floor, dancing seductively with their husbands as they sang along. Kobra turned back to Thomas, slid his blazer off his shoulders with a slow, deliberate motion, and set it aside. Taking his hand, she led him toward the dance floor.
Thomas went willingly.
As they danced close, Kobra gently trailed her black-and-pink striped nails down the back of Thomas’s neck. He shivered at the sensation, smiling as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer.
“Yes, darling,” Kobra purred.
“Kobra, baby… that purr,” Thomas said, his eyes gleaming, “it drives me wild.”
She smirked.
“I know. That’s why I do it.”
♦♦♦♦
By 11:35 p.m., Kobra and Thomas were stepping out of Odd-Dream.
Kobra had kicked off her shoes and carried them in one hand, her black clutch tucked under her arm. Thomas held his jacket while keeping an arm around her as they walked toward his car.
“I had a really good time, babe,” Thomas said.
“I did too,” Kobra replied.
“Although,” he added with a laugh, “I don’t think I’ll ever have a Zoom Bomb again.”
Kobra giggled.
“I *did* warn you—it’s mostly vodka.”
“Well,” Thomas chuckled, “now I know.”
“Thomas!” someone called out
Thomas turned his head and sighed.
“Oh God,” he muttered.
Kobra followed his gaze. Walking toward them was a slim, average-looking woman wearing a garish orange dress that barely covered her backside, paired with black pumps. Her long hair was badly dyed blond, and her makeup looked hastily applied—nothing about it polished or refined.
She was also very drunk.
“Uh, babe…” Kobra said quietly. “Who is that?”
“That would be Mandy,” Thomas replied flatly. “The escort I thought was you.”
Kobra choked as she burst into laughter, then shot Thomas a look.
Thomas grinned sheepishly. “Yeah. I know.”
Kobra shook her head, still giggling.
“Thomas, where have you been?” Mandy slurred, swaying slightly as she stopped in front of them.
“Living my life,” he said calmly. “What else would I be doing?”
“Oh… well, I thought maybe… you’d be… giving me a call back,” she said, her words tumbling over each other.
“Why would I call you back?” Thomas asked evenly. “You were paid for one night of company. Nothing more, nothing less.”
Mandy shrugged.
“Most of my clients do.”
Kobra desperately wanted to make a biting remark—but she held her tongue, storing the thought away instead.
“Mandy,” Thomas said, clearly done, “this is Kobra—my girlfriend. And we’re heading home.”
Mandy looked Kobra up and down, her expression sour.
“Where’d you meet *her*? The local dump?”
Kobra’s eyes narrowed.
Thomas was not amused.
“You did *not* just stand there and suggest that Kobra is trash—when you look like you crawled out of a dumpster in that slutty, hideous orange dress,” Thomas snapped angrily. “Badly dyed hair, ruined makeup… and not to mention, you’re drunk.”
“I’m just being honest,” Mandy slurred.
“No,” Thomas said coldly. “You’re showing your true colors—as a trashy woman who thinks that servicing high-end clientele somehow makes *you* high-end. It doesn’t. It just makes you highly paid trash. And if we’re being honest? You weren’t worth the money I spent. In fact, I overpaid.”
Kobra’s eyes widened as she bit back a laugh.
Mandy narrowed her eyes.
“Oh yeah?” she sneered. “And how much would *you* have paid?”
Kobra buried her face in her palm. She knew exactly what was coming.
“One dollar and five pennies,” Thomas replied evenly. “Because that’s what your ‘company’ was worth.”
Mandy’s eyes widened in outrage.
“Are you saying my performance was lousy?” she shouted.
Thomas sighed and shook his head, then pulled Kobra close to him.
“This conversation is over,” he said firmly.
They turned and walked away as Mandy continued shouting, her words dissolving into drunken swearing. Thomas and Kobra got into his car and drove out of the parking lot.
Kobra let out a low whistle.
“Wow,” she said.
“I know,” Thomas replied.
“When she said most of her clients call her back, I *really* had to hold back a comment,” Kobra admitted.
Thomas snickered. “Go ahead, babe. Say it.”
“Are you sure?” Kobra asked. “You *did* pay her for services.”
“And her services weren’t that good,” he said dryly.
Kobra burst into laughter, and Thomas quickly joined her.
“Just say it, babe,” he said.
“If her clients keep calling her back, it’s probably because she’s good at one thing,” Kobra replied with a shrug. “Certainly not because she has anything interesting to talk about.”
Thomas burst out laughing again as Kobra merely lifted her shoulders.
“I know—that was very unkind,” Kobra admitted.
“Yeah, it was,” Thomas said. “But on the other hand… it’s also true.”
Kobra sighed softly.
“I try not to be harsh or judgmental. I’m far from perfect myself.”
“That’s understandable,” Thomas said gently. “But that doesn’t give people the right to talk down to you or say ugly, unnecessary things. It’s admirable that you took the high road—but I wasn’t about to let her trash you like that. You did nothing to deserve it.”
Kobra reached over and took Thomas’s hand. He laced his fingers through hers and kissed her knuckle.
“Thank you, darling,” she said.
“You’re welcome, Lovely Eyes,” he replied with a smile.
“Lovely Eyes?” Kobra echoed, smiling back.
“Yes. You have beautiful eyes—one of the first things I noticed when I saw your picture,” he said.
“Well,” she said flirtatiously, “your eyes are quite handsome themselves. Very sexy.”
Thomas smiled. “I’ll tell you a secret—you’re the first woman who’s ever told me I have handsome, sexy eyes.”
Kobra giggled softly.
“Dare I ask what you’ve been told *is* sexy?” she asked.
“My voice. My body. The way I walk. The way I stand,” he replied.
Kobra grinned.
“Well,” she said, “they weren’t wrong.”
♦♦♦♦
Kobra found herself in awe of Thomas’s condo. She almost felt out of place, afraid to touch anything. Thomas noticed and smiled.
“Most of what’s in here came from a local furniture store,” he said. “Nothing too expensive—except for the mini grandfather clock on the wall.” He pointed to it.
Kobra studied the clock and smiled. It was clearly antique, or at least convincingly so, with a distinctly Victorian style.
“I like it,” she said, turning back to him.
“Thank you,” Thomas replied as he brought out two glasses of wine and set them on the coffee table.
Kobra took a seat on the plush burgundy couch. Thomas picked up the remote and turned on the stereo. One of her favorite classic jazz songs filled the room—*Take Five*. He sat beside her and handed her a glass.
“Thank you,” she said, accepting it.
“You’re welcome.”
“I hope Odd-Dream wasn’t too weird for you,” she said.
Thomas laughed. “It wasn’t that weird. I *was* surprised by some of the… naughty shenanigans, though.”
Kobra nodded. “That’s part of Odd-Dream’s charm. People can be a little naughty, as long as they don’t go too far. Add in the laid-back atmosphere, great music, and quirky people—it works.”
“Yeah,” Thomas said, smiling. “Though I think some were a little *more* quirky than others.”
Kobra raised an eyebrow. “Explain.”
“Well,” he said, “while you were in the ladies’ room, a woman and her husband approached me. They asked if you and I would be interested in a foursome—or if I’d be comfortable watching you have sex with her husband. Or vice versa.”
Kobra stiffened slightly. “What did you tell them?” she asked cautiously.
“Don’t worry, babe,” Thomas said, pulling her closer. “I told them you don’t share—and neither do I. Besides, the things you do to me? I prefer those to be just between us.”
Kobra smiled and shifted closer to him.
“Same here,” she said softly. “I love the way you command me in bed.”
Thomas raised an eyebrow.
“Kobra, behave,” he said in a playfully commanding tone. Thomas’s deep voice made Kobra shiver.
“And if I don’t?” she asked, her voice playfully seductive yet defiant. “Are you going to spank me?”
Thomas raised an eyebrow.
“Koko, baby… don’t push it,” he said in a tone that was playfully menacing.
Kobra sipped her wine, deciding—for now—to behave. Thomas knew it was only a matter of time before she challenged him again. It was one of the things he’d discovered about her and liked—the way she poked and prodded at him just enough to keep him on edge. It also awakened a side of him he hadn’t realized existed… a kinky side.
Thomas took a sip of his wine, waiting for her next move.
Kobra set her glass down. “So… anything new at work?” she asked.
“Two new clients,” he replied, placing his glass on the table. “One of them is a tech startup.”
“What about you, babe?” he asked.
“Same old thing,” she said. “Except it sounds like some drama is brewing. I don’t know all the details, but apparently a few coworkers forgot the golden rule—don’t mix business with pleasure.”
Thomas nodded. “Have you ever dated or flirted with a coworker?”
“No,” she said. “There were a few I found attractive, but I was never brave enough to act on it. Plus, my job has a strict no-dating policy. And honestly, I care more about my job than getting laid.”
Thomas smiled.
“What about you?” she asked.
He cleared his throat. Kobra raised an eyebrow, smirking.
“There was one woman at the accounting firm,” he said. “Very attractive. Every guy wanted to ask her out. I happened to be one of the ‘lucky’ ones who actually got a date—she turned most of the others down. We went out a few times. One night, she invited me back to her place and… well, you know.”
Kobra continued to smile. “So what happened?”
“I eventually realized she was the hunter,” Thomas said sheepishly, “and we men were the prey. She knew exactly who she wanted to take to bed—and who she didn’t.”
Kobra burst out laughing.
“So… you had a Huntress among you,” she said with a smile.
Thomas laughed. “Yeah—and when the other men and I realized it, we were thoroughly humbled.”
Kobra burst into laughter, collapsing back onto the couch. Thomas couldn’t help but laugh along with her. Eventually, she calmed down, though she stayed sprawled there, smiling.
“That was funny,” she said.
“Well, I’m glad you got a laugh out of it,” he replied with a chuckle, his gaze lingering on her.
God, she was beautiful—just lying there.
Kobra lifted her feet and placed them in Thomas’s lap. He began to massage them, and she let out a soft moan. The sound sent a shiver through him.
“Baby… that moaning,” he murmured. “Oh, God.”
Kobra smirked and deliberately moaned again. So much for behaving—she had clearly resumed her playful challenge.
Thomas gently but firmly grasped her feet. The look in his eyes—desire, heat, unmistakable intent—made her breath hitch.
“Oooh… am I in trouble now?” she asked playfully.
Thomas took her hand and pulled her close. Kobra giggled as she wrapped her arms around him.
“Are you going to spank me?” she teased seductively.
“I’m going to do more than that,” he said with a wicked grin.
Nothing more needed to be said. Thomas and Kobra made their way to his bedroom, where the night unfolded in warmth, laughter, and shared passion. By 1:00 a.m., they drifted into a peaceful sleep, Kobra resting comfortably in Thomas’s arms.
Epilogue
Seven months later
Kobra and Thomas were now married. The wedding was small but beautiful, with just the right touches of eccentricity. The bride wore a fitted hot-pink swing dress with gold polka dots and black gloves, while the groom wore a black leather tuxedo jacket over a bright red button-down shirt and dark jeans. The ceremony was held at a venue that included both a chapel and a reception hall. While neither Kobra’s family nor her friends batted an eye at what the bride and groom wore, many of Thomas’s colleagues were completely floored.
After their honeymoon, they settled into a one-story, three-bedroom house.
On a quiet Saturday afternoon, Thomas and Kobra relaxed in their backyard, stretched out on an outdoor canopy bed as soft jazz flowed from a stereo resting on a wicker table beside them. Kobra’s head was nestled against Thomas’s chest.
“So,” Kobra asked, “what did Derek have to say? I saw the two of you talking at the reception.”
Thomas scoffed.
“Some BS about you being too unusual and not fitting in with ‘elite’ people. I reminded him that those people aren’t my friends—just clients. And that I’ve found real friends… the kind I found when you and I fell in love.”
“Wasn’t he the one who gave you Mandy’s email address—the one you mixed up with mine?” Kobra asked.
“Yeah, he was,” Thomas said. “Funny thing is, when I told my mother how we met, she laughed and said it wasn’t a mistake at all. She said God intended for us to meet—that He has interesting ways of introducing people.”
Kobra giggled. “She’s right.”
“I know. Every day I find myself thanking God for bringing us together—even if it started out… not so great,” Thomas said.
“Honestly, when you think about it, it’s kind of comical how we met,” Kobra said. “Paloma and Claudia laughed themselves silly when I told them. Paloma even looked up at the sky and thanked Him. Claudia said only God would use something so ridiculous to bring two people together who otherwise never would have met.”
Thomas laughed, and Kobra joined him.
“I guess that proves God has a sense of humor,” Thomas said.
“He’s always had one,” she replied. “Sometimes it’s the humorous things that bring people together.”
They looked at each other, smiled, and leaned in for a kiss.
**Subject: Need an Escort for a Night**
“What in the actual—?!”
That was Kobra’s usual reaction to anything that immediately felt wrong or was unusual. Curious despite herself, she opened the email.
Hello Mandy,
My name is Thomas Michaels.
My friend Derek told me about you and suggested I contact you if I ever needed *company*. I’m attending a company party this Friday night and require an escort.
I need you to be dressed very presentably—not too conservative, but not too flashy or revealing. I want the standard date experience, with a little something extra afterward.
Let me know if you’re available.
Thomas Michaels
Kobra’s first instinct was to fire back a not-so-nice response. But after a moment, she took a breath and allowed a cooler temperament to prevail. It occurred to her that the man must have gotten the email address wrong. It wasn’t uncommon, after all.
Hitting reply, she wrote:
Hello Mr. Michaels,
Your email was sent to me by mistake. My name is not Mandy. My name is Kobra Daran, and I am not an escort.
She hit send and returned to reading the rest of her emails. However, just as she was about to close out her inbox, a reply from Thomas Michaels appeared. Against her better judgment, she opened it.
Kobra—that’s a sexy name. It sounds edgy. So Mandy is an alias. I should have known. Most escorts use aliases when they don’t want to use their real names. So why not just use your actual name?
Kobra raised an eyebrow.
“Either this man is a total moron, or he didn’t read my email at all,” she muttered.
Once again, she hit reply.
Sir,
I just told you that I am **not** an escort. Please do not email me again.
She hit send and closed out her email.
II
The next day, Kobra returned home from work, kicked off her shoes, and collapsed onto the sofa. All day, a nagging feeling had followed her. Her God-given heightened intuition was on high alert—about what, she didn’t know. She couldn’t tell whether it was something good or something bad.
After resting for a moment, she got up and checked her email.
What awaited her was not what she expected.
The same email thread from the night before.
Once again—against her better judgment—she opened it.
Look, Mandy or Kobra, whatever your name is.
I’m willing to pay you good money for your company. The least you can do is not jerk me around.
If you’re no longer an escort, then just say so!
Kobra was furious now.
Hitting the reply button, she typed:
Look here, Donkey!
I politely told you that I am **not** an escort and that your email was sent to me by mistake. Instead of behaving like an entitled jerk, how about double-checking the email address you were given?
She hit send. Not trusting that he would actually read it, she immediately blocked the email address. With that done, she turned her attention to making dinner.
◾◾◾◾
Thomas tried to reply but discovered that his email had been blocked. Furious, he called his friend Derek.
“Hello?” Derek answered.
“Mandy—or Kobra, or whatever her name is—she blocked me,” Thomas snapped.
“She blocked you?” Derek asked.
“Yes. Blocked me,” Thomas said.
Derek was silent for a moment before speaking.
“Tom, read back the email address I gave you.”
Thomas did.
“Now check it again and make sure you entered it correctly,” Derek said.
“I did!” Thomas insisted.
“Check anyway,” Derek replied.
As Thomas compared the two, he realized his mistake—he was off by two letters and a number.
“Crap,” Thomas muttered.
“Dude, relax. It happens,” Derek said. “Just email Mandy and don’t worry about the woman you contacted by mistake.”
“Alright,” Thomas said.
After finally emailing Mandy—and receiving her reply agreeing to be his date on Friday—a nagging feeling settled in. He felt guilty about mistakenly emailing the wrong woman and wanted to apologize, but he couldn’t. She had blocked him.
And yet, he couldn’t stop thinking about her.
Her name lingered in his mind...Kobra
It was unique. He had never known a woman with a name like that. It stirred his curiosity. He wondered what she looked like, what her interests were, what kind of woman carried a name so sharp and unapologetic.
Somehow, he found himself caught up in the mystery of a woman he had thoroughly pissed off. An image flashed through his mind—her scratching his eyes out if they ever met.
Oddly enough, the thought sent a shiver of excitement through him.
“Kobra Daran,” he said aloud. “Who are you?”
III
The date with Mandy went well—but she turned out to be boring. Even the *something extra* afterward felt uninspired. He compared the entire date to vanilla ice cream.
Thomas paid Mandy her standard rate along with a generous tip and watched as she exited his high-end condo.
Later, lying bare-chested beneath the covers, he turned his head toward the bedroom window. His mind drifted, lingering on one name—
Kobra.
Throughout the entire date, he had found himself imagining what she might look like. Her name had captivated him in a way he couldn’t explain.
“Kobra Daran,” he murmured aloud. “Who are you? What are you like? What makes you smile? What makes you sad?”
He shifted his gaze to the ceiling.
“Dear God,” he said quietly, “I know you and I don’t talk much. And you’re probably not thrilled about the escort I just slept with.” He paused, then continued. “But something has me curious. The woman—Kobra Daran. If I could just meet her… if you could somehow bring us together, I’d be grateful.”
As he lay there, sleep eventually claimed him.
In the depth of it, he heard a voice.
*I’m not the easiest person to deal with. One needs to be very patient and unusually understanding. If you are not that man… it’s best you tell me now.*
Thomas opened his eyes, the words echoing in his mind. There was loneliness in them. Uncertainty. Something almost heartbreaking.
“Whatever happens,” he whispered, “I will be patient and understanding.”
He didn’t know why he said it—only that it felt necessary, as though the words themselves mattered.
◾◾◾◾
Kobra sat in the Luxe Lounge, watching as her friends Claudia and Paloma danced with their husbands. She had accepted a few dance invitations herself, but the last man she danced with turned out to be a complete jerk—asking sexually inappropriate questions and trying to grab her breasts and backside.
She immediately walked away and returned to the table where she and her friends were sitting. Unfortunately, he didn’t get the hint. It wasn’t until Claudia’s husband, Rex, leaned in and quietly informed the man that he would need a surgeon to remove Rex’s shoe from his rear end if he didn’t leave Kobra alone.
That message landed and the crude gentleman quickly disappeared into the crowd.
That kind of nonsense was exactly why Kobra avoided places like the Luxe Lounge. She sat at the table, nursing a Fuzzy Navel until boredom settled in. Finishing her drink, she stood and made her way back to her friends, letting them know she was heading home. They tried to convince her to stay, but she was adamant.
Once outside the club, she flagged down a taxi, slid into the back seat, and gave the driver her address.
As the car moved through the city, she caught her reflection in the rearview mirror. A lovely woman looked back at her—light brown eyes, a slightly deep café-au-lait complexion, and long dark brown hair streaked sporadically with dark pink. Her figure was full and curvy—some might even say voluptuous. Yet she had always considered herself a plain Jane… well, maybe not entirely plain, given her slightly unusual style.
The taxi pulled up to her apartment complex. She paid the fare, thanked the driver, and headed inside.
Once in her apartment, she leaned against the door and looked up at the ceiling.
“Heavenly Father,” she said quietly, “the next time my friends talk me into a night out, please guide them to choose less sleazy places.”
Her gaze drifted to the framed hanging on the living room wall—a gift from her uncle.
*Remember, no matter how small or insignificant the prayer… God hears them all.*
Reading it made her smile. It always helped keep her grounded—sane, even.
She moved away from the door and went into her bedroom, changing out of her fitted leopard-print dress and into a cozy green nightgown that brushed her ankles. After removing her makeup, pulling her hair into a ponytail, and wrapping it in a satin scarf, she climbed into bed. Reaching over, she picked up the book she’d been reading—a slightly kinky romance novel set in a fantasy world.
It stood out among her shelves filled with books on ancient civilizations and folklore, astrology and astronomy, a plain-English translation of Shakespeare’s plays, and an eclectic collection of graphic novels and single-issue comic books.
Kobra was complex—not complicated, just complex.
She didn’t fit neatly into any one category. She was emotional—sometimes too emotional. She imagined short scenarios inspired by songs and wrote them down. She watched movies ranging from drama and action to comedy and fantasy. Her taste in music spanned genres. She had no interest in politics, social media, or reality television.
She preferred small gatherings with people she knew. And when she had something to say, she said it.
Some people thought she was too timid. Too quiet. Too emotional. Others claimed she was naïve or not outgoing enough. Frankly, she was tired of hearing it all.
She just wanted to be herself—the outlandish nail-polish-wearing, pink-streaked-haired, cat-eye-glasses weirdo who loved celestial things and believed the universe was far bigger than most people ever imagined.
After reading for a while, she slipped a bookmark between the pages and set the book on the nightstand. She reached for her phone and scrolled through it before tapping on a new app called **Echo-Me**.
The app was a social interactive platform that allowed users to upload a photo, choose ten words that described or resonated with them, and select two songs that reflected their personality. The songs she chose were U2’s *I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For* and TLC’s *No Scrubs*.
She checked to see if anyone had left her a message, then scrolled through a few profiles. None of them really stood out. After a moment, she closed the app and placed her phone back on the nightstand.
Sliding beneath the covers, she lay down and turned off the lamp.
“Dear God,” she whispered, “thank you for all that you do. Please continue to walk with me and watch over my family and friends. Amen.”
She closed her eyes and drifted into sleep.
◾◾◾◾
Thomas sat on the sofa in his condo, tablet in hand. He had just signed up for **Echo-Me**. Unsure of what to expect, he uploaded a photo of himself. Once it was approved, he was prompted to choose ten words that described or resonated with him.
He selected: **Driven, Confident, Stubborn, Curious, Privileged, Charming, Restless, Protective, Reckless,** and **Single-minded**—at least, that’s what a few friends had pointed out to him.
For his music choices, he selected *Smooth* by Rob Thomas and Carlos Santana, and *Kiss from a Rose* by Seal.
Reviewing his profile, he smiled and tapped Save. Then he began scrolling through other profiles. Some were alluring—maybe too alluring. Others felt like exaggerated performances clearly fishing for the wrong kind of attention.
He even came across Mandy’s profile.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered.
He was about to close the app when something nudged him to keep looking. Scrolling a bit more, he froze.
There she was.
Kobra.
He tapped on her profile. The words she had chosen were: **Intuitive, Weird, Creative, Reserved, Resilient, Curvy, Friendly, Spirited, Nerdy,** and **Daydreamer**.
He listened to the songs she’d selected and read her explanations. *No Scrubs*, she wrote, reflected her low-to-zero tolerance for arrogant nonsense. That made him wince. His mind immediately flashed back to the email—how he had arrogantly assumed she was Mandy, and how dismissive he’d been when she politely corrected him.
The memory made him cringe.
When it came to *I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For*, she explained that while she prayed and believed in God, she wasn’t perfect—just a work in progress. She described herself as complex, though some might call her complicated.
At the end, she wrote:
*I’m not the easiest person to deal with. One needs to be very patient and unusually understanding. If you are not that man… it’s best you tell me now.*
Thomas felt his breath catch.
Those words.
They were the very words he had heard as he drifted to sleep.
He tapped the message button. The app allowed either text or audio. He chose audio.
Once ready, he spoke:
“Hello, Kobra. My name is Thomas Michaels. I believe we’ve met—unintentionally. I was the idiot who emailed you by mistake, thinking you were an escort. I wanted to apologize for that—and for my behavior afterward.”
He paused, then continued.
“I like your profile. You have beautiful eyes, and I like the dark pink streaks in your hair. After reading what you wrote, I’d really like to get to know you—maybe have lunch sometime. You have my word that I won’t be a donkey.” A small smile tugged at his mouth. “And lastly… whatever happens, I will be patient and understanding.”
He tapped Stop, saved the message, and closed the app.
“I hope she answers,” he said softly.
IV
Kobra awoke suddenly in the middle of the night.
She didn’t need to use the bathroom, so why was she awake? Turning on her lamp, she reached for her phone and saw the time: 4:04 a.m. Then she noticed a notification from Echo-Me.
Curious, she opened the app and saw she had received an audio message. She tapped it and listened.
**“Hello, Kobra. My name is Thomas Michaels. I believe we’ve met—unintentionally. I was the idiot who emailed you by mistake, thinking you were an escort. I wanted to apologize for that—and for my behavior afterward. I like your profile. You have beautiful eyes, and I like the dark pink streaks in your hair. After reading what you wrote, I’d really like to get to know you—maybe have lunch sometime. You have my word that I won’t be a donkey. And lastly… whatever happens, I will be patient and understanding.”**
When the message ended, she tapped on his profile and studied his picture. A smile curved her lips—she liked what she saw.
Dark blond hair, hazel eyes, a neatly kept goatee, and a medium-fair complexion.
She decided to send him a text reply.
*Hello, Thomas. Apology accepted. I’d like to meet you for lunch. How about Cantina Encanto? You can email me—I’ll unblock your address. Let me know.*
After hitting Send, she slipped out of bed, powered on her PC, and logged into her email. She removed Thomas’s address from the block list, then returned to bed and switched off the lamp.
“Dear God,” she whispered, “wherever this is going… let it be something wonderful. Amen.”
She closed her eyes and drifted back into sleep.
◾◾◾◾
The Next Morning — 9:59 a.m.
Thomas sat in his office at the accounting firm where he worked. It was a slow day. He opened his laptop and checked his email, then reached for his phone and tapped on **Echo-Me**.
A few messages waited for him. One was from Mandy, once again offering her services.
He sighed, deleted it, and skimmed past the rest—until he saw a message from Kobra.
She had answered him.
Smiling, he logged into his email and replied.
Hello Kobra,
I’m glad you got back to me. Lunch at Cantina Encanto works perfectly. I was thinking 12:30 p.m.—if that doesn’t work for you, just let me know.
Thomas
He hit Send and found himself silently hoping she would reply.
Two minutes later, an email notification appeared. He opened it immediately.
12:30 p.m. works for me. See you there… I’ll be wearing a dark purple shirt with moons and stars on it.
Thomas smiled.
◾◾◾◾
Thomas arrived at Cantina Encanto with his heart pounding. He smoothed his dark gray suit and checked that his white shirt was spotless before stepping inside.
His eyes scanned the room, searching for the outfit she’d described.
Then he saw her.
His pulse quickened as he casually made his way over.
“Kobra?” he asked.
She looked up.
“Thomas?” she replied.
He smiled and took a seat across from her.
Seeing her in person, he found her even lovelier than her photo suggested. His gaze drifted down to her hands. Her nails were long, as he’d expected—but the color caught him off guard: concrete gray, flecked with sparkles of pink, purple, and teal.
“I notice you’re looking at my nails,” she said.
Thomas lifted his eyes to her face. She was beautiful—her slightly oval face made an unexpected but perfect match with her cat-eye glasses.
“Yes,” he said. “And I can tell you like being unique—not just for the sake of shocking people.”
“I barely shock anyone,” she replied dryly, “unless they’re so uptight that anything would have them clutching pearls and screaming, *‘That’s just unthinkable!’*”
Thomas laughed.
“You clearly don’t have a high opinion of uppity people,” he said with a smirk.
“No, I don’t. And I’d say more—but I might offend you.”
Thomas smiled gently.
“I’m the one who offended you,” he said. “I should’ve double-checked the email address instead of being an arrogant idiot.”
That made her smile.
“You have a beautiful smile,” he said.
“Thank you—and you’re handsome,” she replied.
“Thank you,” he said, sincerely.
Over lunch, they talked about everything—family, childhoods, and life. Thomas listened as Kobra spoke about herself: her learning disability, her small circle of friends—most of whom were married and busy with their own lives—and her quirky interests that few people shared. She was candid about what she liked and unapologetic about what she didn’t.
The words he had spoken earlier—*whatever happens, I’ll be patient and understanding*—echoed in his mind.
Kobra wasn’t a woman overflowing with confidence. What confidence she had was often tangled with uncertainty. And yet, something about her captivated him. Maybe it was her quirky interests. He had never thought to pick up a fictional book set in some fantastical world or an offbeat urban fantasy rooted in everyday life.
She made him wonder if perhaps *he* was the plain one—the boring, predictable one.
She understood the importance of staying informed, she said, but also pointed out that even news outlets exaggerated or failed to tell the whole story, often colored by bias.
He couldn’t argue with that.
Once lunch was over, Thomas offered to pay, but Kobra insisted on covering her own meal. He realized she probably didn’t want to give him the impression that he was obligated to pay for her.
As they stood and walked toward the exit, Thomas finally got a full look at her.
She had been honest when she chose the word *curvy* for her profile. What he hadn’t expected were curves that were soft, sensual, and perfectly shaped. Out of nowhere, an image flashed through his mind—Kobra dressed in a black leather bustier, her pink-streaked hair framing her face, cat-eye glasses perched on her nose.
The image lingered a little too long.
A strange sensation washed over Kobra, and she glanced at him. He was staring.
“Hello,” she said, snapping her fingers in front of his face.
Thomas snapped out of his self-induced trance.
“Yes?” he said, shaking his head.
Kobra raised an eyebrow. “Do I even want to know what you were thinking?”
Thomas smiled bashfully, feeling his cheeks warm.
“I hope you won’t be offended by this,” he said. “I was imagining you wearing a black leather bustier.”
Kobra planted her hands on her hips, one eyebrow arching higher as a slow smirk crossed her face.
“Someone clearly has a hidden kinky side,” she joked, her tone laced with flirtation.
Thomas shifted uncomfortably. “Honestly, I’ve never had thoughts like that before.”
Hearing that stunned her.
“And here I thought you were the type who liked handcuffing a woman to the bed,” she teased.
Now it was Thomas’s turn to be stunned. The look on his face made that obvious—and Kobra burst out laughing.
“What do you want to know, Thomas Michaels?” she asked, crossing her arms and grinning.
“Have you actually…?” he began, then trailed off.
“No,” she replied. “But I’ve thought about it. I’ve even talked to a few dommes at the logistics company where I work. I’ve read a couple of books, too—not counting that trilogy that had women all over the world panting over a millionaire with control issues. I made it to book three, skipped to the end, and sold them. I’ve read better erotic fiction.”
Thomas stared at her, stunned once again—this time with his mouth hanging open.
Kobra smirked, clearly enjoying herself.
“I’m shocking you,” she said with a giggle. “And I’m not even trying.”
Thomas finally found his voice.
“I could tell you were unique—from your clothes, your hair, your interests. But the rest of this? I didn’t see coming.”
A question had been nagging at Kobra for a while. Finally, she asked it.
“What was your first thought about me—before we met in person?” she asked, curiosity threading her voice.
Thomas grinned.
“Before I even saw your face? After our little email exchange, once I realized my mistake?” He chuckled. “I imagined you wanting to scratch my eyes out. And for some reason… that turned me on.”
Kobra smiled and snickered, folding her arms.
“Dude, I wouldn’t scratch your eyes out,” she said. “Your back, though? That might get clawed up.”
She delivered the line with a knowing smile.
On cue, Thomas’s mouth fell open again. Kobra reached up, placed her fingers under his chin, and gently closed it.
“You don’t want people wondering why your mouth is hanging open,” she said.
“No,” he replied breathlessly. “I wouldn’t. But… wow.”
Kobra laughed.
“I need to get back to work,” she said. “You can call me later.”
She leaned in, kissed him on the cheek, and walked away.
Thomas stood there, shaking his head.
“Dear God,” he murmured, “I know I asked You to bring Kobra and me together. But now I’m asking—help me hang on for dear life. Because whatever comes next is going to shake things up… probably for good. And I hope it does.”
V
Three Months Later
Things were no longer the same for Thomas Michaels and Kobra Daran.
Thomas found himself joyfully immersed in books—urban fantasy, magical realism, and even a few kinky romances here and there. He began learning about astrology and astronomy, ancient history, and even developed an appreciation for Shakespeare.
Kobra, in turn, learned more about accounting. It helped her work through her delayed math skills and even picked up a few financial tips that added welcome numbers to her bank account.
She finally got to ride in a Ferrari when Thomas took her to a local dealership that included a private driving track. She also learned more about wine—something Thomas was pleased to discover she genuinely wanted to explore.
And Thomas, for his part, learned a few things from Kobra as well: the freedom of not always needing to be polished or pretentious, and the realization that being odd was simply another form of *normal*.
It was nighttime when Thomas arrived at a club called ‘Odd-Dream’. The moment he stepped inside, he understood exactly how it had earned its name.
The club was small—but not so small that it felt like a hole in the wall. At the same time, it was far from a mega-club, occupying only a single story. The interior was a deliberate mishmash of aesthetics: sophisticated whimsy blended with light industrial elements and Art Deco–neon accents. Unusual didn’t quite cover it.
Thomas immediately felt a little out of place in his dark gray blazer, white button-down shirt, and neatly tailored trousers—casual yet polished, but tame compared to the crowd around him.
Everyone else was dressed in a spectrum of styles that ranged from typical club attire to ensembles that leaned heavily into goth, vintage, and even bold combinations of 1920s flair fused with modern edge.
He scanned the room and finally spotted Kobra standing off to the side on a slightly raised platform. She was wearing a black lace and pink satin bustier paired with a fitted black leather skirt that hugged her knees, black ankle-strap block heels, and black fingerless, opera-length gloves. Her hair was styled in soft waves, reminiscent of the 1940s.
Thomas stood there in awe.
She was stunning.
Kobra turned, her smile widening the moment her eyes landed on Thomas. She hurried over and kissed him.
“Hey, darling,” she said.
“Hey, babe,” he replied, staring into her eyes.
Kobra wrapped her arms around his waist, holding his gaze.
“This place…” he said, glancing around. “I can see why it’s called Odd-Dream.”
Kobra giggled.
“It’s one of the few places I actually enjoy coming to.”
“Well, it’s definitely different,” he said.
Just then, *React* by the Pussycat Dolls began to play. Kobra’s friends Claudia and Paloma made their way onto the dance floor, dancing seductively with their husbands as they sang along. Kobra turned back to Thomas, slid his blazer off his shoulders with a slow, deliberate motion, and set it aside. Taking his hand, she led him toward the dance floor.
Thomas went willingly.
As they danced close, Kobra gently trailed her black-and-pink striped nails down the back of Thomas’s neck. He shivered at the sensation, smiling as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer.
“Yes, darling,” Kobra purred.
“Kobra, baby… that purr,” Thomas said, his eyes gleaming, “it drives me wild.”
She smirked.
“I know. That’s why I do it.”
♦♦♦♦
By 11:35 p.m., Kobra and Thomas were stepping out of Odd-Dream.
Kobra had kicked off her shoes and carried them in one hand, her black clutch tucked under her arm. Thomas held his jacket while keeping an arm around her as they walked toward his car.
“I had a really good time, babe,” Thomas said.
“I did too,” Kobra replied.
“Although,” he added with a laugh, “I don’t think I’ll ever have a Zoom Bomb again.”
Kobra giggled.
“I *did* warn you—it’s mostly vodka.”
“Well,” Thomas chuckled, “now I know.”
“Thomas!” someone called out
Thomas turned his head and sighed.
“Oh God,” he muttered.
Kobra followed his gaze. Walking toward them was a slim, average-looking woman wearing a garish orange dress that barely covered her backside, paired with black pumps. Her long hair was badly dyed blond, and her makeup looked hastily applied—nothing about it polished or refined.
She was also very drunk.
“Uh, babe…” Kobra said quietly. “Who is that?”
“That would be Mandy,” Thomas replied flatly. “The escort I thought was you.”
Kobra choked as she burst into laughter, then shot Thomas a look.
Thomas grinned sheepishly. “Yeah. I know.”
Kobra shook her head, still giggling.
“Thomas, where have you been?” Mandy slurred, swaying slightly as she stopped in front of them.
“Living my life,” he said calmly. “What else would I be doing?”
“Oh… well, I thought maybe… you’d be… giving me a call back,” she said, her words tumbling over each other.
“Why would I call you back?” Thomas asked evenly. “You were paid for one night of company. Nothing more, nothing less.”
Mandy shrugged.
“Most of my clients do.”
Kobra desperately wanted to make a biting remark—but she held her tongue, storing the thought away instead.
“Mandy,” Thomas said, clearly done, “this is Kobra—my girlfriend. And we’re heading home.”
Mandy looked Kobra up and down, her expression sour.
“Where’d you meet *her*? The local dump?”
Kobra’s eyes narrowed.
Thomas was not amused.
“You did *not* just stand there and suggest that Kobra is trash—when you look like you crawled out of a dumpster in that slutty, hideous orange dress,” Thomas snapped angrily. “Badly dyed hair, ruined makeup… and not to mention, you’re drunk.”
“I’m just being honest,” Mandy slurred.
“No,” Thomas said coldly. “You’re showing your true colors—as a trashy woman who thinks that servicing high-end clientele somehow makes *you* high-end. It doesn’t. It just makes you highly paid trash. And if we’re being honest? You weren’t worth the money I spent. In fact, I overpaid.”
Kobra’s eyes widened as she bit back a laugh.
Mandy narrowed her eyes.
“Oh yeah?” she sneered. “And how much would *you* have paid?”
Kobra buried her face in her palm. She knew exactly what was coming.
“One dollar and five pennies,” Thomas replied evenly. “Because that’s what your ‘company’ was worth.”
Mandy’s eyes widened in outrage.
“Are you saying my performance was lousy?” she shouted.
Thomas sighed and shook his head, then pulled Kobra close to him.
“This conversation is over,” he said firmly.
They turned and walked away as Mandy continued shouting, her words dissolving into drunken swearing. Thomas and Kobra got into his car and drove out of the parking lot.
Kobra let out a low whistle.
“Wow,” she said.
“I know,” Thomas replied.
“When she said most of her clients call her back, I *really* had to hold back a comment,” Kobra admitted.
Thomas snickered. “Go ahead, babe. Say it.”
“Are you sure?” Kobra asked. “You *did* pay her for services.”
“And her services weren’t that good,” he said dryly.
Kobra burst into laughter, and Thomas quickly joined her.
“Just say it, babe,” he said.
“If her clients keep calling her back, it’s probably because she’s good at one thing,” Kobra replied with a shrug. “Certainly not because she has anything interesting to talk about.”
Thomas burst out laughing again as Kobra merely lifted her shoulders.
“I know—that was very unkind,” Kobra admitted.
“Yeah, it was,” Thomas said. “But on the other hand… it’s also true.”
Kobra sighed softly.
“I try not to be harsh or judgmental. I’m far from perfect myself.”
“That’s understandable,” Thomas said gently. “But that doesn’t give people the right to talk down to you or say ugly, unnecessary things. It’s admirable that you took the high road—but I wasn’t about to let her trash you like that. You did nothing to deserve it.”
Kobra reached over and took Thomas’s hand. He laced his fingers through hers and kissed her knuckle.
“Thank you, darling,” she said.
“You’re welcome, Lovely Eyes,” he replied with a smile.
“Lovely Eyes?” Kobra echoed, smiling back.
“Yes. You have beautiful eyes—one of the first things I noticed when I saw your picture,” he said.
“Well,” she said flirtatiously, “your eyes are quite handsome themselves. Very sexy.”
Thomas smiled. “I’ll tell you a secret—you’re the first woman who’s ever told me I have handsome, sexy eyes.”
Kobra giggled softly.
“Dare I ask what you’ve been told *is* sexy?” she asked.
“My voice. My body. The way I walk. The way I stand,” he replied.
Kobra grinned.
“Well,” she said, “they weren’t wrong.”
♦♦♦♦
Kobra found herself in awe of Thomas’s condo. She almost felt out of place, afraid to touch anything. Thomas noticed and smiled.
“Most of what’s in here came from a local furniture store,” he said. “Nothing too expensive—except for the mini grandfather clock on the wall.” He pointed to it.
Kobra studied the clock and smiled. It was clearly antique, or at least convincingly so, with a distinctly Victorian style.
“I like it,” she said, turning back to him.
“Thank you,” Thomas replied as he brought out two glasses of wine and set them on the coffee table.
Kobra took a seat on the plush burgundy couch. Thomas picked up the remote and turned on the stereo. One of her favorite classic jazz songs filled the room—*Take Five*. He sat beside her and handed her a glass.
“Thank you,” she said, accepting it.
“You’re welcome.”
“I hope Odd-Dream wasn’t too weird for you,” she said.
Thomas laughed. “It wasn’t that weird. I *was* surprised by some of the… naughty shenanigans, though.”
Kobra nodded. “That’s part of Odd-Dream’s charm. People can be a little naughty, as long as they don’t go too far. Add in the laid-back atmosphere, great music, and quirky people—it works.”
“Yeah,” Thomas said, smiling. “Though I think some were a little *more* quirky than others.”
Kobra raised an eyebrow. “Explain.”
“Well,” he said, “while you were in the ladies’ room, a woman and her husband approached me. They asked if you and I would be interested in a foursome—or if I’d be comfortable watching you have sex with her husband. Or vice versa.”
Kobra stiffened slightly. “What did you tell them?” she asked cautiously.
“Don’t worry, babe,” Thomas said, pulling her closer. “I told them you don’t share—and neither do I. Besides, the things you do to me? I prefer those to be just between us.”
Kobra smiled and shifted closer to him.
“Same here,” she said softly. “I love the way you command me in bed.”
Thomas raised an eyebrow.
“Kobra, behave,” he said in a playfully commanding tone. Thomas’s deep voice made Kobra shiver.
“And if I don’t?” she asked, her voice playfully seductive yet defiant. “Are you going to spank me?”
Thomas raised an eyebrow.
“Koko, baby… don’t push it,” he said in a tone that was playfully menacing.
Kobra sipped her wine, deciding—for now—to behave. Thomas knew it was only a matter of time before she challenged him again. It was one of the things he’d discovered about her and liked—the way she poked and prodded at him just enough to keep him on edge. It also awakened a side of him he hadn’t realized existed… a kinky side.
Thomas took a sip of his wine, waiting for her next move.
Kobra set her glass down. “So… anything new at work?” she asked.
“Two new clients,” he replied, placing his glass on the table. “One of them is a tech startup.”
“What about you, babe?” he asked.
“Same old thing,” she said. “Except it sounds like some drama is brewing. I don’t know all the details, but apparently a few coworkers forgot the golden rule—don’t mix business with pleasure.”
Thomas nodded. “Have you ever dated or flirted with a coworker?”
“No,” she said. “There were a few I found attractive, but I was never brave enough to act on it. Plus, my job has a strict no-dating policy. And honestly, I care more about my job than getting laid.”
Thomas smiled.
“What about you?” she asked.
He cleared his throat. Kobra raised an eyebrow, smirking.
“There was one woman at the accounting firm,” he said. “Very attractive. Every guy wanted to ask her out. I happened to be one of the ‘lucky’ ones who actually got a date—she turned most of the others down. We went out a few times. One night, she invited me back to her place and… well, you know.”
Kobra continued to smile. “So what happened?”
“I eventually realized she was the hunter,” Thomas said sheepishly, “and we men were the prey. She knew exactly who she wanted to take to bed—and who she didn’t.”
Kobra burst out laughing.
“So… you had a Huntress among you,” she said with a smile.
Thomas laughed. “Yeah—and when the other men and I realized it, we were thoroughly humbled.”
Kobra burst into laughter, collapsing back onto the couch. Thomas couldn’t help but laugh along with her. Eventually, she calmed down, though she stayed sprawled there, smiling.
“That was funny,” she said.
“Well, I’m glad you got a laugh out of it,” he replied with a chuckle, his gaze lingering on her.
God, she was beautiful—just lying there.
Kobra lifted her feet and placed them in Thomas’s lap. He began to massage them, and she let out a soft moan. The sound sent a shiver through him.
“Baby… that moaning,” he murmured. “Oh, God.”
Kobra smirked and deliberately moaned again. So much for behaving—she had clearly resumed her playful challenge.
Thomas gently but firmly grasped her feet. The look in his eyes—desire, heat, unmistakable intent—made her breath hitch.
“Oooh… am I in trouble now?” she asked playfully.
Thomas took her hand and pulled her close. Kobra giggled as she wrapped her arms around him.
“Are you going to spank me?” she teased seductively.
“I’m going to do more than that,” he said with a wicked grin.
Nothing more needed to be said. Thomas and Kobra made their way to his bedroom, where the night unfolded in warmth, laughter, and shared passion. By 1:00 a.m., they drifted into a peaceful sleep, Kobra resting comfortably in Thomas’s arms.
Epilogue
Seven months later
Kobra and Thomas were now married. The wedding was small but beautiful, with just the right touches of eccentricity. The bride wore a fitted hot-pink swing dress with gold polka dots and black gloves, while the groom wore a black leather tuxedo jacket over a bright red button-down shirt and dark jeans. The ceremony was held at a venue that included both a chapel and a reception hall. While neither Kobra’s family nor her friends batted an eye at what the bride and groom wore, many of Thomas’s colleagues were completely floored.
After their honeymoon, they settled into a one-story, three-bedroom house.
On a quiet Saturday afternoon, Thomas and Kobra relaxed in their backyard, stretched out on an outdoor canopy bed as soft jazz flowed from a stereo resting on a wicker table beside them. Kobra’s head was nestled against Thomas’s chest.
“So,” Kobra asked, “what did Derek have to say? I saw the two of you talking at the reception.”
Thomas scoffed.
“Some BS about you being too unusual and not fitting in with ‘elite’ people. I reminded him that those people aren’t my friends—just clients. And that I’ve found real friends… the kind I found when you and I fell in love.”
“Wasn’t he the one who gave you Mandy’s email address—the one you mixed up with mine?” Kobra asked.
“Yeah, he was,” Thomas said. “Funny thing is, when I told my mother how we met, she laughed and said it wasn’t a mistake at all. She said God intended for us to meet—that He has interesting ways of introducing people.”
Kobra giggled. “She’s right.”
“I know. Every day I find myself thanking God for bringing us together—even if it started out… not so great,” Thomas said.
“Honestly, when you think about it, it’s kind of comical how we met,” Kobra said. “Paloma and Claudia laughed themselves silly when I told them. Paloma even looked up at the sky and thanked Him. Claudia said only God would use something so ridiculous to bring two people together who otherwise never would have met.”
Thomas laughed, and Kobra joined him.
“I guess that proves God has a sense of humor,” Thomas said.
“He’s always had one,” she replied. “Sometimes it’s the humorous things that bring people together.”
They looked at each other, smiled, and leaned in for a kiss.
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