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It was the ‘so much’ that got his attention, I’m sure. I can picture the frown on his face. He’s so protective, and I know he isn’t thrilled that I’m here in Vegas with Michael for the entire week. But he didn’t say a thing about us leaving. However, if he thinks for a moment that I’m not happy or safe, he will throw a fit.
He really might actually get on a plane.
I’d love that.
I wish you were here
I stop before I send the text.
I can’t tell Nathan I wish he was here. Especially not if he’s worried about me.
That’s not fair to him or Michael.
Nathan really might come to Vegas, and that would piss Michael off. It would also be unfair for me to make Nathan come comfort me when really I’m fine.
I’m better than fine.
Do I prefer my happy, sexy little bubble in Chicago where I have all three guys who dote on me and have basically convinced me that I can do no wrong? Of course.
Could I get my big, grumpy, in-charge, protective billionaire boyfriend here to save me in just a few hours? To make me feel better? To sweep me away fromanythingthat makes me even the slightest bit uncomfortable? Yes. Easily. One text is all it would take.
It wouldn’t take much more than that to get Crew here, too, and he’d definitely make sure I have fun and forget all of this discomfort.
But I can’t do that.
I don’tneedto do that.
I’m just feeling insecure because I’m not sure what I bring to the conversation with Michael’s colleagues. Plus, I don’t like having some of these people give me the side-eye. But I’m not going to die from that. Even if they are Michael’s friends. If he isn’t bothered by their reactions, then I shouldn’t be. We’re going to face a whole variety of opinions and curiosity from people about our relationship forever.
I just don’t want Michael to regret bringing me. This conference is about him and his professional achievements, not about standing up for our poly relationship.
I delete what I started to write to Nathan and tell him I’m fine.I know how to steer this. I can make Nathan and myself feel better. I text again.
But my new thong is kind of itchy. If you were here, I know you’d let me put it in your pocket.
I wouldn’t have let you wear it in the first place.
I smile at the response that doesn’t surprise me a bit. He texts again.
That skirt is the perfect length to slide my hand up your thigh under the table and finger your sweet pussy during dinner.
I feel heat sweep through me.
Yeah,thiswill help. This is all I need. I just need a little reminder that this one dinner will pass, and everything outside of this is fine. I text him again.
Can you keep talking to me?
Of course. Where are you?
At dinner. Where are you?
My office. Is Doc with you?
Yes. But he’s got a lot of friends and colleagues here. They’re talking medicine.
It’s difficult being in those professional situations when you’re there beside him, looking so fucking gorgeous, all his, when all he wants is to take you out and make you laugh and make memories with you, before taking you to bed and making sure you never think of Vegas without thinking about the night he made you scream his name over and over.
I stare at the screen. Wow.
