The Real

Abbie’s Mac: What way?

Cameron’s Mac: The way you’re looking at me right now. Jesus, I’m hard, and I’m getting harder thinking about the kiss you almost gave me.

Abbie’s Mac: You pulled away.

Cameron’s Mac: I won’t do it again. Your turn. And don’t hold back.

Lips parted, my erratic pulse made me glad I was sitting. Every limb in my body thrummed with the possibilities.

Abbie’s Mac: I had an orgasm for every letter of your name last night.

His eyes hooded as he read the words then looked over at me.

Cameron’s Mac: When we leave here today, I want you to do the exact same thing. I want you to go home, slip your panties off, and touch yourself while thinking of me.

Abbie’s Mac: Okay.

Cameron’s Mac: Show me the finger you’ll use.

I pressed my finger to my lips and sucked.

Cameron’s Mac: Fuck. I need to go. Abbie, I have to go.

Abbie’s Mac: Don’t go.

Cameron’s Mac: I can’t stay a fucking minute longer and respect the rules.

He glanced over at me, his eyes pulling me under. I was sure I was in need of a panty change. And even more so, I was frustrated I couldn’t bring myself to close my Mac and put us both out of our misery.

Cameron’s Mac: I can’t stay. But I’ll keep waiting, Abbie. I promise. Meet me here tomorrow?

Abbie’s Mac: Yes.

My shoulders slumped as he packed his bag. Pushing out my lips, I protested, but he shook his head adamantly. Were we really going to leave each other to touch ourselves in bed?

We were in a silent standoff. It was either pull the trigger and give into the physical or wait it out a little longer. Most of me told me to trust my gut, to try to trust him, but my head wasn’t ready. I sighed and grabbed my purse and my Mac. Cameron stood stoically, patiently waiting for me to leave.

It was cruel to both of us, but we were still safe. All our good intentions toward the other kept intact. Our situation remained respectable, albeit the perverts that existed just under the surface were going to win the war that day.

I hauled ass home, my limbs burning with ache, my skin on fire, and heart pounding at the fact he knew I was racing home to come with his name on my lips. And he was going to do the same.

Abbie’s Mac: Hi. Sorry I’m late.

Cameron’s Mac: You’re still late. I can’t see you.

Abbie’s Mac: I’m here, but please don’t look for me!

Cameron’s Mac: What?

Abbie’s Mac: Stay where you are. I’m here. Just don’t come looking for me.

Cameron’s Mac: Why?

Out of breath, I began frantically typing.

Abbie’s Mac: I’m having an off day and I didn’t have your number to let you know I couldn’t make it. I didn’t want to cancel.

Before I could hit send, his message came through.