Disclaimer: Content not suitable for those under 18. By reading, you acknowledge that you are over 18.
Blane was at an Indianapolis Chamber of Commerce meeting this afternoon. He despised going, but since Mr. Gage was no longer here, the duty for attendance fell to him and Derrick. They took turns each month, though Blane still groused and was in a foul mood when he had to go.I played idly with my phone, sending another move in my Words With Friends game to Clarice. She usually beat me by an absurd number of points, but I was getting better. I thought I had a fighting chance of winning this round.I opened my text messages, looking for my conversation thread with Blane. He hated texting, said it was rife with possible misinterpretations and misunderstandings. If possible, he called instead. I just thought he hated it because his fingers were too big for the little buttons, causing him to misspell words. Misspelled words were a big no-no for Blane.I typed him out a message.
Hey. How’s the meeting going?
To my surprise, it didn’t take long for him to reply.
I’d rather pull out my fingernails.
I smiled. Of course I knew that even though he hated it, not one of the couple hundred people there would be able to tell. His charm and politician’s smile were well-honed weapons in his arsenal.
Look on the bright side – u don’t have to go back for 2 months. 🙂
The bright side is getting back to the office so I can see you.
I flushed with pleasure, grinning as I typed back.
Can’t wait 2 c u 2.
I put my phone down, returning to my typing with a sigh. To my surprise, my phone buzzed again a moment later.
What are you wearing?
I giggled. He must be desperate to keep texting of his own volition. I supposed I should make it worth his while.
Bunny ears and a fluffy tail. That’s all.
Are you in my office? Thinking about me?
I was surprised. I’d expected teasing, but I didn’t think that’s what Blane had in mind. I reread the text. Hmm. Not even close on the first, but a definite yes on the second. I hesitated before responding.
Yes. The leather of your chair is cold against my skin.
I chewed my nail as I waited for his reply. I’d never done this before, this flirting via text. I wondered if Blane would think it was stupid.
You shouldn’t be in my office alone. It’s against the rules. Now you have to do what I say.
A little thrill went through me. My fingers moved over the keys.
I didn’t mean to be bad. I just couldn’t help it. I miss you.
I rolled my eyes at how ridiculous that looked on the screen, but hit Send anyway.
Bad girls should be taught a lesson. Hook your right leg over the arm of the chair.
My heart started pounding and I had to read the line twice before I replied.
Now hook your left leg over the other arm of the chair. Remember – I’m watching.
In my mind’s eye, I could see myself the way he was picturing me and my cheeks heated.
Now what? I feel very…exposed.
You’re beautiful. Take your hair down.
My hand went unthinkingly to my hair before I caught myself. I had it pulled back into a twist today. I wondered how he knew. Another message popped up.
Take your fingertips, brush them softly up your legs, on the inside of your thighs. Feel how soft and smooth your skin is?
Okay, I’d been running late today and hadn’t had time to shave my legs, but what the hell.
I’m handing you something. It’s a strawberry. Plump. Red. Juicy. Do you see it?
I wondered where this was going.
Take it. It’s still a bit cold.
I have it.
I want to taste you on it.
I stopped breathing, my eyes wide as I stared at the screen. He couldn’t possibly mean-
Put the strawberry where I want it.
My hand trembled slightly as I texted back.
Feel the texture? Smooth yet pebbled on the surface. I love the texture. I can still see it, luscious and waiting for me.
My hands drifted over the keys, but I had no idea what to text back. I was way out of my depth. Blane, apparently, was not.
I’m kneeling in front of you. I have to taste…I knew it would taste amazing flavored by you. I only took a little bite. I want to make it last. Look in my eyes. Watch me.
Juice is dribbling down my chin. God, it tastes so good. Put your hands on my shoulders. Run your fingers through my hair.
I thought I was going to hyperventilate, my eyes wide and unblinking as I stared at the screen on my phone. I squirmed in my chair, pressing my thighs together.
Can you see me, Kat? Tell me how you feel.
I can’t catch my breath. Can’t stop watching. Don’t stop.
You make me crazy with wanting you. Your taste. Your scent. The sound of your voice. I need you. Want you.
I clutched my phone, my mouth dry, lost in the word picture he was painting.
I want to duck you.
What? I reread the sentence, then burst out laughing. I typed back, still giggling uncontrollably.
Obviously I don’t text that word enough for it to not be autocorrected. No talking or eye contact for the week it’s going to take for me to recover my pride.
Sure thing, Old Macdonald. Maybe I should call PETA? I’m sure they wouldn’t approve of treating ducks in that fashion.
You’re a heartless woman, Kat. My ego has officially been knocked down several notches. Thank God this meeting is over.
I took pity on him.
Will it make u feel better if I meet u in your office?
I’m on my way. Stopping to get strawberries.