"I find that to be interesting," you said
Samantha emptied her glass and stared into it. "It’s... complicated," she murmured. "Jimmy has an appetite for eroticism that most people would find, well, strange. He’s a closet voyeur."
She looked up at you, her eyes searching yours for judgment but finding only curiosity. "He gets highly aroused just watching me flirt with other men at parties. He loves the tension, the chase, the way another man looks at me. He’s told me that seeing me through someone else's eyes makes him want me more than anything else."
"That's a lot to process," you noted softly, leaning in closer.
"It is," Samantha agreed, her expression flickering with a shadow of old pain. "He actually went so far as to encourage me to get a boyfriend. He told me he wanted me to have someone else."
She let out a short, bitter laugh that didn't reach her eyes. "Of course, it hurt my feelings when he first brought it up. I felt like he want me to be a slut. It felt like a rejection wrapped up in a fantasy. I spent weeks wondering if he was just bored of me."
You reached out, and pat her shoulder comfortingly.
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