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She had a point. “Fine.” I grabbed my phone from my bag and unlocked it. “Be gentle with me.”
Lucy’s shoulders fell and her features softened. “You know I will. Nothing you can say in these texts will make me laugh.”
“You say that now,” I muttered. “I’m getting a drink.”
My stomach gurgled, as did Lucy’s. “Maybe just water or tea for today, Pose.”
“You’re right.” I went to the fridge and grabbed the fresh pitcher of sweet tea I made before going out last night, then grabbed a couple of glasses from the strainer. If I kept my mind occupied, I’d forget about what Lucy was reading and continue with my afternoon.
Lucy’s gasp, then her soft squeal, pulled my attention to her as she bit her bottom lip and her eyes widened. “Posey... Holy fuck, girl.”
I groaned. “I know. I didn’t mean to write all that. I just wanted to apologize for running away.”
“No, I mean the entire exchange.” Her thumb scrolled the screen upward. “Daddy’s good girl?” She squealed again. “Oh, honey, you have to say yes. Then you have to tell me all about your night with him.”
“Luce,” I said, rolling my eyes. “He wants me to call him Daddy.”
She bit her knuckle as her eyes rolled up and she made a noise in the back of her throat. “That’s every girl’s wet dream. Fuck, that’s hot.”
Heat filled my cheeks. “Stop talking about it.”
“Nope,” Luce replied, shaking her head. “I know you’ve had issues all your life, Posey, but we’re going to get you over this bashfulness. You are an adult woman who likes dic—” She tilted her head. “You do like dick, right? I mean, if you enjoy pussy, cool, we can experiment together. Hell, if you like both, I’m still here to help you navigate that path as well.”
“Luuuuceeeee...” I whined. “Come on.”
She laughed. “It’s true. I have the best of both worlds. If you like pussy, I could teach you a few things, too.”
“I think I only want dick in my life,” I said.
“Good answer,” Lucy said. “So, like I was saying, you like dick. You can’t be out here freezing up every time your daddy wants to take a trip to poundtown. Baby girls are always ready for their men. They enjoy servicing them and seeing their men happy. So, here’s my question to you. Are you ready to make Hunter happy?”
Was I? I didn’t think I could answer that question. The whole notion of getting naked and having sex made my insides squirm and my palms sweaty. Yet, there was also an ache between my thighs and a throb behind my clit that said I liked the idea of the nicknames. “I think so.” I didn’t sound convincing. I grimaced at my tone. “I wish I was more like you when situations like this come up.”
Lucy grinned. “You’re doing fine on your own. I mean, you called oral “head,” so that’s a good start. But...” She flipped the phone around so I could look at the screen. “Why haven’t you answered him or at least said good morning?”
Fear of humiliating myself. “It was awkward. I mean, look at my drunk texting. I couldn’t even spell the words, let alone tell him I wanted pussy head.” I cringed again just saying those two words.
Lucy laughed. “Girl, I can’t even imagine his face when he read that. Dude has it bad for you. He seemed genuinely concerned about your safety and was upset you left without saying a word.”
I felt like an asshole for that, too. “I have to apologize for how I ended things last night. He deserves better, that’s for sure.”
“Then do it.” She pushed the phone into my hand before going into the kitchen. “Tell him how you feel or felt, then ask him if you can try again.” She shrugged before grabbing a couple of plates for us. “Eventually, though, you’re going to have to learn how to communicate with him.”
Yeah, figured as much. I closed my phone and joined Lucy at the island for our lunch, then went to the couch. “I’ll do it later, after the game.” It was a lame excuse, but I also wanted to send the text in private with no one looking over my shoulder.
“You better,” she said, sitting beside me. “Now, what game are we watching?”
I had no clue.
As the sun set and the game ended, Lucy had left, needing to take care of a few things before she went home. Sitting in the living room with the television on low, I grabbed my phone and opened the message with Hunter. It had distracted me the entire game. Thinking about everything I wanted to say to him in my apology. Nothing could excuse my behavior. What I’d done was reprehensible. Add in the sexting and I was the worst of the worst.
Instead of getting right to the text, I sorted my notes for court on Monday and do a few things around the apartment. It was better to have a plan than it was to go into the conversation I was about to have with Hunter, unprepared. We’d both said some sexually charged things to each other, so we needed to ground ourselves before it got out of control.
Live a little girl. Be lewd with your Viking God.
If only I could. By the time my eyes were dry and blurry from reading over the Miller file again for the third time, I finally grabbed my phone before pouring a small glass of wine. I was going to need the liquid courage to get me through this. I’d figured out as I was taking notes, the best way to express myself was by calling Hunter, not texting. It was more personal, and, unlike texting, I could hear his tone and understand the subtext of what he said to me.
By the second ring, after tapping his number, I thought maybe he wasn’t available and had been close to hanging up. Then, his masculine, deep rumbling voice called out to me, “Posey?”
