He was gone before she could respond. And, much to her chagrin, she missed him already. Cayla vowed to push Dex out of her mind; well, she would after taking another look at the picture he’d sent her.
Damn.
Chapter 4
Cayla let herself into her home and breathed a sigh of relief. Another week gone, and she was one day closer to leaving paid hell. She breathed in the lavender scented air of her home and some of the tension eased out of her shoulders. She was in her sanctuary. She kicked off her stiletto pumps and pulled the elastic out of her hair releasing her ponytail. After running her fingers through her hair and rubbing her scalp, her relaxation was up another five percent. Now that she’d placed her purse and keys in their rightful place, she grabbed her cell and picked up her heels en route to her bedroom.
Within ten minutes, her phone was on the bathroom counter playing her relaxation playlist, her shoes were in the closet, and her clothes were in the hamper; her naked body slowly slid into a warm bath laced with a relaxing herbal blend. A warm towel covered her eyes, and her head rested on a bath pillow. This is the life. Cayla’s relaxation level had reached a successful Eighty-five percent. Dex lurked in the last fifteen percent, and since meeting him she hadn’t been able to reach the optimal level of one-hundred percent relaxation.
She’d just left happy hour with Natalia and Kalilah, but she didn’t have a chance to discuss the picture or her phone conversation with Dex. Okay, that phone call was two weeks ago to the day, and they’ve been to happy hour three times since Kalilah had returned; it was classic avoidance of the subject. Although she would never show his picture, she could have at least discussed it.
Bottom line: she was flustered. He’d called two weeks ago with hot promises then vanished so thoroughly she’d almost felt like she’d imagined it. All it took was a deeper look into a well-hidden folder in her phone to remind her that she wasn’t crazy. Fifteen minutes and a good bath later, Cayla was wrapped in a plush robe and ready for some chick flicks.
She jumped when her doorbell rang; she froze in place lest it was an unwanted guest. The sound of a big vehicle starting and speeding off made her wonder if she’d just received a package. She checked the time on her phone; 7 PM was kind of late for package delivery. A quick peep around her door answered her question; an unexpected package waited on her doormat. Cayla placed the package on the table and studied the label. It was from Dex. Her stomach flipped excitedly as she ripped open the box. Maybe it was some badass souvenirs or some special chef spices. Her mind ticked off thousands of possibilities as she slid a rectangular box out of its packaging.
Cayla set it on the table and ran her fingers over the smooth wood of the case; it was a nice box. She lifted the lid, but shocked fingers dropped it back into place. No way! Cayla circled the table, eyeing the box like she was a detective, and it was a hostile suspect. It couldn’t be. She lifted the lid again to ensure she wasn’t hallucinating. She wasn’t. Lid dropped. Another stare down ensued.
“Stop being ridiculous. You’re a grown woman,” she mumbled to herself and settled on her couch with the box tucked under her arm. Her unexpected “gift” now rested on the coffee table in front of her. Cayla took a deep breath and opened it again. This time, she reached for the note on top and slid it open with slightly shaky fingers.
To keep you warm at night.
-Dex
P.S. It is an EXACT replica molded from the source. Enjoy!
“Only Dex.” Cayla sighed and picked the flesh colored dildo that rested in the box. There was a pack of batteries in the box, as well. Correction: flesh colored vibrator. Her curiosity spiked, and the embarrassment faded. Her thumb traced a vein and her hormones joined the party. Do a test stroke, they said. You should try it, they said. Let’s see if it fits in your mouth, they said.
Luckily, curiosity was still running the show, and she needed to know if he was serious. Now in investigation mode, Cayla called up the picture on her phone and performed a comparison. Her analytical brain kicked in, and she studied the device and the picture. He wasn’t lying. She tested the weight, of course the real thing would be different, but the length and width was all him. Oh, my. His…member was fantastic. She tried to circle her fingers around it; but not quite.
Her original plan was to call him and give him a lecture about sending women sex toys, but she suspected that he was expecting her to freak out like she did. What would Kalilah do? Her naughty side formed a new idea.
Dex was in Palma, Spain, perched on a barstool having a riveting debate on the best Spanish wine when his phone pinged. He smiled when he saw the name. She got it. He closed his bar tab and waved to his new friends before retreating to his room; it was after midnight anyway. After an ac
celerated bed time routine, he was settled in bed and ready to be scolded by Cayla.
He completely ignored the fact that no woman, ex-girlfriends included, had ever had the power to make him leave a good time just to talk to her on the phone. He slightly frowned when he realized that he’d never invited anyone on his trips. Not even the thought of spending time with his family had ever spurred him to extend an invitation. Was he that horny?
Dex unlocked his screen and answered himself with a resounding YES! His mouth went desert dry, and he reached for his bottle of water. He was almost instantly hard.
Cayla: Where should I put it?
Cayla: How about here?
She’d attached a picture of her holding the vibrator near her open mouth. Her tongue slightly poked out like she was about to tease the tip. The little tease even had the nerve to take the selfie from what would be his point of view if she was kneeling in front of him.
Dex: Warm
Cayla: Here?
The next picture was another point of view picture of her pink tipped hands squeezing the vibrator between her lace covered golden mounds. What did Fergie call them? Ah. Her lady lumps. And what lovely lady lumps they were. He hadn’t seen them in all their glory, even in the picture he still couldn’t see any more of her breasts than what he would if she was wearing a tank top. But, this context was different. And the sight of his faux-wee settled snug between the breasts he was dying to motorboat had a firming effect on the real one.
Dex: Warmer
Cayla: So, here?
Dex groaned in the dark. The next little nugget of wonderful was of her lying in her bed. It was an almost full body picture of her. Her lace bra was peaking over the deep V of her spaghetti strap black nightgown. It was a clingy little number hugging to her slender torso, and the hem of it pooled at the top of her thighs. Her knees were bent, and the tip of the faux-wee was resting against her most important mound between open thighs. He’d mentally inserted himself between them, imagining her wrapping them around his waist.
Dex: Yes! Right fucking there.