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Payton: How about you?
Me: Good. Trying to catch up on my files though. Hard to do when I’m thinking of you.
Those little bubbles don’t appear. Why don’t they appear? I wait, holding my breath, for the longest minute of my life until I finally see her replying. Exhaling deeply and willing my heartbeat to slow down, her message pops up on my screen.
Payton: I’ve been thinking of you too. I kinda liked curling up against you the last couple of night.
That’s what I’m talking about! I pump my fists in the air like I just scored the winning basket.
Me: I miss you and your cold toes too.
Payton: My toes aren’t cold.
Me: They are. And the only reason they weren’t cold last night was because you had those little ice cubes plastered against my outer thigh.
Payton: You have hot thighs.
Me: *smirking emoji* You have hot thighs too.
Payton: That’s not what I meant.
Me: I know, but that’s where my mind went. And now I can’t stop thinking about them.
Payton: *flaming emoji* Stop thinking about my thighs. I’m never gonna get to sleep tonight now. Thanks.
Me: Yeah, it’ll be a little hard for me to sleep now too.
Who is this guy? I’ve never used emojis. I’ve never been so blunt and dirty in a text. Hell, I barely like to send texts. But throw in a little insinuating back and forth banter with Payton, and I’m completely outside of my comfortable little bubble. The fact that I’m smiling instead of worrying should be enough to make me panic, but it doesn’t. Instead, I fire off another text.
Me: Be thinking of me later when you’re all alone in bed with your sleeping problem.
Payton: Funny, I was gonna say the same to you.
Before I can send a reply, another text pops up.
Payton: I should get to bed. I have so much work to catch up with at the shop tomorrow.
Me: Good night, Payton.
Payton: G’night. Oh, and Dean? I’m already thinking about you as I start to take care of my little problem. *smirky devil face emoji*
Well, fuck a duck. Beneath my sleep pants, my hard-on is slamming against my stomach, begging to be played with. Mental images of Payton lying in her bed, touching herself as she takes care of her problem are enough for me to get up, lock my door, and do the same.
And my mind never strays from my brown-haired goddess.
