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I’m not asking.
I’ll be at your house in the morning.
Damn. As audacious as Brandon can be, I find I don’t mind it. In fact, I had no idea a guy with such a personality would turn me on.
Desire overpowers me, and I push logic aside and text him back.
What are you doing?
I’m bored.
Talk to me.
Seconds go by without a response. I tug my bottom lip between my teeth, growing anxious.
My heart starts to gallop as bubbles appear, indicating he’s typing. When Brandon’s text pops up, heat rises in my middle, and I flop back on my pillow, reading slowly.
Want to know how I have
to relieve myself every night
because you’re always on
my mind?
I don’t reply. Honestly, I have no clue what to say.
My phone starts to buzz in my hand, making me shiver.
Clearing my throat, I compose myself and answer. “How inappropriate.”
Heavy breathing fills the line.
I lift my brows. “Brandon? Are you seriously mast—”
“You’re mine,” he grits out. “I can text you anything I want. Besides, you like it.”
“Ugh. I do not.” I turn onto my side.
“Are you wearing those cute shorts and the tank top, little artist?”
Desire yanks out the truth. “Yes.”
The throaty sounds that ensue cause me to shudder.
“Are you braless like last time, too?” he rasps.
My arousal worsens, hearing the confirmation that he saw my nipples the night before. The naughty side of me was lying right beside him, giving him a show.
“Yes,” seeps out in a near whisper, no hesitation.
His sexy grunts become more profound, elevating the carnal tension between my thighs.
Closing my eyes, I slide my hand inside my shorts and massage myself, imagining it’s Brandon touching me.
“Tell me what you’re doing,” he commands, voice scratchy like he’s pleasuring himself, too.
“No,” I whimper-moan, fighting against lust out of fear I’m starting to like a guy that I shouldn’t.
