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Ryan: Fuck, Harper. Don’t say that. I’m not by myself, and I don’t think my brother or anyone else around would appreciate the hard-on you’re giving me.
I stare at the screen and bite my lip even harder. My brain is solely focused on the fact that he’s doing this with me right now and the whole hard-on situation. Nothing can penetrate this bubble. My hormones are in control, and my fingers are gliding across the screen.
Harper: That’s a shame. I wish I could help with that situation.
Ryan: What am I going to do with you, Harper? Shit, let’s do a rain check on this because I’ve got to go. They’re waiting for me.
Ryan: But promise me something.
Harper: What?
Ryan: Tonight, when you touch yourself, think about me. And when you come all over your fingers, imagine me buried deep inside you.
My fingers shake as I stare at the screen and reread his message twice more. Holy crap. I don’t think I’ve ever been this turned on without being touched by anyone or touching myself. I try to calm down my racing heart but fail miserably. Then I type out an answer before I chicken out.
Harper: Only if you promise to do the same.
Ryan: You’ve got yourself a deal, gorgeous. Let’s compare notes later.
I’m not sure what’s making my blood boil more, the fact he wants me to make myself come while thinking about him, or the fact he wants to talk to me about it later. I’ve never sexted before, let alone done anything that feels this naughty. I had no clue it could be this exciting.
What else do you have to teach me, Ryan?
