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And holy shit. Tyler lookedgood!He was much bigger and broader than I remembered him, with well-defined arms and shoulders that rivaled the beautiful Roman god standing next to him.
I swallowed dryly, then willed my fingers to work again:
Holy shit, Tyler.
Tyler’s response came with a wink-face emoji, and a short line of text:
Like I said, he just got back from deployment.
Some base in the middle of nowhere.
Nothing to do but work out.
I had to give credit where credit was due.
You’ve been hitting the gym too, looks like.
The little ellipsis blinked busily as my ex-boyfriend responded:
Sure have. I’m sort of a gym rat now.
As much as work lets me be, anyway.
I sat there for a long moment, wondering what to do next. They’d called my bluff. The ball was firmly in my court, waiting for me to hit it back their way. Or I could do nothing and watch it sail by.
Luckily though, I didn’t have to choose. The guys took over, sending pic after pic. Each one was from a different delicious angle, showing them smiling and flexing and generally acting silly. Luca had the longest eyelashes I’d ever seen, and soft brown eyes any girl could get lost in. But I was equally obsessed with Tyler, who looked so fucking good I couldn’t wait to eat him up next week.
Why wait?
The photos continued coming, and eventually their shirts came off. I could see their arms, their chests, their shoulders! The V-shaped cuts of muscle along the rib-cage that I always thought looked like wings. The guys had no shame, no boundaries, and that appealed to me even more. Each photo they took made me hotter than the last.
Okay, now you.
I clapped my hand over my mouth. Really? Was I supposed to send pics back?
A good part of me was firmly in the ‘no’ column on that answer, but then the flirtatious part took over. I primped as best I could, then sent a couple of innocent, smiling pics back.
Sorry, we’re gonna need more than that.
Shit, did I really think I was getting off that easy? After careful consideration I lay back down in bed, then took a more sultry-looking photo with my head on the pillow and my long hair spilling out beneath me.
That’s good, but not good enough.
I frowned, thought for a moment, then reversed the camera’s lens. I set it beneath my breasts, pointing down the flat of my stomach as I extended my long, bare legs. Everything in frame was naked now, except my V-shaped mound was covered by a delicate satin thong.
CLICK.
Damn, the photo lookedhot.Exceptionally hot.
Are you really going to send out an underwear pic?
Fuck it. I sure as hell was.
A full minute went by after I’d pushed the SEND button. Nothing. The silence of my bedroom was eventually broken by the musical sound of my phone’s ring tone, with the letters TY on the screen.
I picked it up on the fifth ring.
“Hello, Jenna?” The voice was deep and baritone and unfamiliar. “It’s Luca.”
