Snowflake:
I see that. But you’re naked beneath all those bubbles!
And now I’m imagining it.
I bit my lower lip. It hadn’t been my intention, but... I also didn’t mind. On the contrary. Knowing that Henry was thinking about me sent a wave of heat through me that had nothing to do with the warm bath.
Snowflake:
Fuck, Kate. I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have written that.
Completely inappropriate.
Can we put it down to me being totally overworked?
Me:
Don’t be sorry. I hope you’re enjoying the image.
Three dots appeared, signalling that Henry was writing again, but then they disappeared. A moment later, they reappeared. Then disappeared. After a moment, I finally got my reply:
Snowflake:
I am.
It’s a very nice one.
I made a noise I was sure I’d never made before in my life. It was a cross between a squeak, a laugh, and a shout of joy. Henry was picturing me naked—and he liked it. Holy shit.
Snowflake:
Is it OK that I said that?
Please don’t report me for sexual harassment.
Me:
I was about to start looking for a lawyer...
Snowflake:
My dad knows a couple of good ones.
Me:
I can’t afford them.
Perhaps we should settle this out of court.
Snowflake:
How?
Me:
You owe me a photo.
Snowflake:
