“You’re all set, man.” He gives me a friendly smile and starts to walk off. “See you next week.”
I get on the elevator and then take a quick shower before crashing for several hours. When I wake, the first thing I do is check my phone. Stretching out on the bed, I rest a hand behind my head and smile when I see several messages from Evie. I scroll up to the top so I can read them in order.
Morning, Valeri! I hope you’re having a good day. I miss you already.
Maybe I shouldn’t say that. Is that too much? I don’t know. The truth is I really have no clue what I’m doing. All I know is I met a gorgeous man who’s also kind and funny and he made me orgasm three times and now I can’t think straight.
I laugh out loud at her rambling texts and keep scrolling.
Now I’m pretty sure I’m texting too much. For some reason I keep thinking that texting again will fix it, but that’s just making it worse, isn’t it? Now I’m the crazy girl who won’t just shut the hell up.
I check the times and see that she manages to wait five minutes before the next batch of texts came in.
Are you really not seeing anyone else? How is it possible that you’re single?
Okay, I’m going to go take a shower. At least I’ll have to put the phone down to do that. I’m really sorry about all the texts. God, this is embarrassing.
The last text came in twenty minutes ago, and I smile as I type out a response.
Morning, Evie. Don’t apologize for all the texts. I loved waking up to them. By the way, I’m not single. I have an adorable girlfriend who blushes every time I look at her, comes so sweetly every time I touch her pussy and call her my good girl, and sends me long rambling texts that always make me smile when I read them. ;)
Her response is immediate.That’s because my boyfriend is so damn good with his hands.
I laugh and type on my way to the bathroom.I only used my hand once, sweetheart. ;)
Easily picturing her blush as she reads that, I set the phone down and take a quick shower. I briefly think about jerking off to relieve some of this damn pressure, but I’m not allowing her to come when I’m not around, so it only seems fair to deny myself as well. Although, she did get to come three times yesterday, so I guess it’s not the same thing at all. My cock is screaming at me for some relief, but I turn off the water and ignore it. Maybe I’m a masochist after all because I’m starting to like the constant need, the feeling that I’m going to lose my goddamn mind if I don’t get inside her. It’s addicting.She’saddicting.
While I brush my teeth I send her another text, asking her for a photo.
Why?
Because I don’t have one of you, and I want one.
I swear I can hear her sigh through the phone. The photo that comes in makes me laugh. She’s facing the camera, but she’s rolling her eyes, and her cheeks are a pretty shade of red because she’s embarrassed but doing it anyway. I’m always amazed at the photos women will send me, but I’ve never been sent one like this, and I love it.
That’s perfect. Thank you. You’re so beautiful, Evie, even when you’re rolling your eyes at me.
I want one of you. It’s only fair.
I hurry up and take one, but instead of rolling my eyes, I stare right at the camera and smile. My hair’s still wet, and all I’m wearing is a towel tied at the waist, so I make sure to only show a small sliver of chest. I don’t want her asking about all my tattoos and scars. I’m still not sure how to break the news that I’m a Bratva boss, and I sure as hell don’t want to do it over a text.
Damn. I kind of feel like I should have to pay you money for that shot.
I laugh out loud and toss my towel aside before walking back into my room naked. I call her while I grab a pair of boxer briefs, and when she answers, her hello is a breathy whisper.
“Is it okay that I called?”
“Yeah, I just can’t talk loud. Thanks for the photo.”
“Thanks for mine. I just wanted to hear your voice before I have to leave.”
“Where are you going?”
I grab a pair of jeans and say, “I need to do some things with my brothers. Nothing crazy important or anything.” While I tuck my gun in the back of my jeans, I smile and ask, “So have you been a good girl and kept your hands off that perfect pussy?”
The sound of her taking in a quick breath makes me laugh. “I can feel you blushing, Evie.”
“I haven’t touched myself,” she admits, “but you make it difficult when you send me photos where it’s obvious you’re shirtless and wet.”
