I am, I text back. But not as bad as I can be.
It takes a few seconds for him to respond, and in that time, I realize that he's no longer standing by the door to Crowley's office. I frown and look around for him, then see him heading down the far hall with his hand on his date's ass.
I tell myself that's part of the game, but that doesn't stop the jealousy from curling inside me.
I excuse myself from the woman I'm chatting with and go to the bar, because right now I really could use a glass of wine. But my phone buzzes on the way, and I step into a quiet corner and eagerly retrieve it.
Did you see the woman I was with? Do you believe me when I tell you that I'm imagining she's you?
I answer immediately: Yes.
I wish you were here.
Yes, I text. So do I.
Go into the bathroom. Pull up your skirt. Sit your bare ass on the toilet seat and touch yourself. Don't stop until I tell you to. But don't you dare come.
I read it twice. I'm pretty sure I moan both times.
I look around and see the powder room. I hurry that way, step inside, and lock the door behind me. I lean back against the door and breathe hard. I'm aroused--so damn aroused. My nipples are hard, my pussy is aching for release.
I want Dallas. Hell, I need him. His hands, his mouth.
But at the same time, I want this, too. This game that we're playing--and the way that he's shifting it around, telling me what to do now. I don't want it to stop because I like the way it makes me feel. Like I'm falling into him. Like I'm surrendering to him, but it's not scary and it doesn't make me crazy. Instead, it mak
es me feel safe.
I do as he says. I put the toilet lid down, then pull up my skirt. I'm not wearing panties--he already knows that much--and the porcelain feels cool against my skin. I close my eyes and slide my finger over my clit, then bite my lip as a flurry of sparks shoot through me. Just a tease for now. Just a promise of better things to come.
I'm so wet that my inner thighs are slick, and I'm throbbing because I want him so much. I'm getting close, too, and so I slow down.
He told me not to come, and I'm determined to obey.
Finally my phone pings, and I use my free hand to answer it.
Are you there? Does it feel good?
I tap the microphone button so I can dictate my answers because he told me not to stop. "Yes," I say, and my words print in the text box for him.
My phone rings, startling me. It's him, of course, and I answer immediately.
"Dallas?"
"She's sucking my cock right now."
I suck in air, his low, sensual voice doing a number on me. But it's his words that have me thrusting two fingers inside myself, my reaction shocking me--but there's no denying my full-blown arousal.
"Sucking me off while she listens to me talk to another woman. While she knows I want to fuck another woman."
I add another finger and writhe, closing my eyes as I do. Imagining it's his cock.
"Does that turn you on? Knowing another woman's mouth is on me? Knowing that I'm pretending she's you?"
"Yes," I whisper.
"Yes, what?"
"It turns me on."