I reached for her text thread again, thumb brushing the screen.
Alex: I was thinking about last night. About you. Hope you’re having a gentler day today.
I hesitated — then hit send.
I set the phone down on my thigh, heart thudding.
I shouldn’t want her this much. I shouldn’t be imagining the way she looked at me when she wobbled and fell into mychest . . . the way her breath had hitched when our noses almost brushed . . .
My eyes drifted shut.
Her.
Always her.
My hand slid lower, following the heat building under my skin. My damn cock was already hard at just the thought of the feel of her body. When was the last time I had sex? If I had to think this hard, it was too long ago. But as I went back through my memory, I had to go back over a year.
No, it had not been over a year, had it?
My head hit the back of the couch with a thump as my hand reached inside my sweatpants.
Buzz.
I jolted upright.
Her name lit up the screen.
Eleanor: Hearing from you helped. More than I expected it to.
I exhaled a shaky breath.
Then another message:
Eleanor: And I keep thinking about yesterday, too.
A slow wave of heat rolled through me.
My fingers moved before I could think.
Alex: Yeah? What part?
Eleanor: The part where you caught me. The part where you looked at me like . . . like I was someone worth catching.
My pulse roared in my ears.
I swallowed. And squeezed my dick.
Alex: You are. More than you know.
Three dots appeared.
Eleanor: You make it very hard to think straight when you talk like that.
I grinned helplessly.
Alex: Funny. You make it very hard to breathe when you smile at me.
Another pause.
