Page 22 of Dirty Work


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Justin Timberlake: I’d rather let you have the full experience and then decide for yourself.

Me: Very romantic but I’ll pass.

Justin Timberlake: Romance is overrated. What you need is someone to fill up that smart mouth of yours.

I press my thighs together to dull the ache I feel when I read his message. He’s brash and arrogant and…absolutely right. I need amazing sex in a bad way. It’s been way too long. But I’m sure as hell not having it with him.

Me: Maybe I have someone.

Justin Timberlake: Do you?

Me: None of your business.

Justin Timberlake: Either you don’t or he sucks in bed. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be so tense all the time and you wouldn’t have moaned like you did when I kissed you.

Me: I didn’t moan.

Justin Timberlake: You did. I think you moaned my name, actually.

Me: You are so full of yourself.

Justin Timberlake: Jealous? Wishing you were full of myself instead?

The bus stops, and Lexi calls my name. We must be at our next stop.

Me: I have to go.

Justin Timberlake: You in Rolling Meadows?

Me: Are you stalking me?

Justin Timberlake: Just keeping tabs.

Me: Sonny’s dropping.

Justin Timberlake: I heard. So it’s just me and you. I like the sound of that.

Me: I’m not losing. Just so you know.

Justin Timberlake: Me either.

Me: Where are you?

Justin Timberlake: Carbondale.

Lexi knocks on the door. “Wake up, Reagan.”

“I’m up. Be right there.”

Me: Have to go.

Justin Timberlake: I think we need to talk later about you saying I don’t have depth.

Me: Did I say that?

Justin Timberlake: Yep. And you’re so wrong. Deep is my middle name.

Me: As in balls deep?