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But then I came here.
I met him.
And now I saw what little freedom I had and bucked against it like a wild thing, eager for escape.
My phone buzzed on the counter.
Remy: Your mom really does know how to spoil a party.
Poof, my pout was gone. I snatched up my phone, smiling as I typed back.
Jessa: She’s the absolute worst for that. I’m sorry.
Remy: Don’t be. I’m sorry I couldn’t see you a little longer.
I sighed and flopped into bed, adjusting my towel, wet hair sticking to the pillow.
Jessa: Me too. I wish I could see much more of you.
Remy: That can be arranged.
Jessa: Then arrange it.
Seconds later, a photo came through of his rolling abs, and his massive hand fisted around his massive cock.
I pinned my bottom lip between my teeth.
Jessa: This is exactly why I get turned on every time my phone dings. Really, sir, you have no right.
Remy: Well, you said you were in the shower and this happened. There’s only so much I can do.
Jessa: Wish I was there. I’d do it for you.
I giggled, my cheeks flushed as I shimmied to bury myself a little between the pillows. A hot flush tingled its way down my body—I’d scrolled back up and was very busy zooming the picture, starving to catalog the details of his cock. With my free hand, I undid the tail of the towel.
Remy: I hate that you’re there when you could be here where I can do filthy things to you.
I sighed.
Jessa: Me too. I was thinking about you in the shower and now I’m all hot.
Rolling onto my side, I fiddled with the towel, exposing myself quite artfully, I thought. I sent the picture as soon as I snapped it.
Remy: Jesus Christ, Duchess.
Jessa: I never thought I’d say this, but I love it when you call me that.
Absently, my fingertips brushed one nipple as I waited for his response.
Remy: Good, ‘cause there’s probably no chance of me stopping.
Jessa: Guess what I’m touching and I’ll send you a photo.
Remy: Look at you, being all nasty. Please tell me it’s your pussy.
Jessa: Aren’t you ambitious? Sorry, darling. Not it.
Remy: Tits.
