My stomach drops when I see his name and my body freezes.
“Is it him?” Lissy asks, catching my reaction.
“He’s asking how I am,” I relay the message, my eyes scanning each and every character.
“Tell him you’re gonna need your V card back. You’ve turned into a whiney, gushy lame woman.”
“Ha Ha.” I roll my eyes at her and look over the message again, trying to figure out how to respond. On one hand, I’m relieved he finally contacted me, yet on the other, I’m annoyed he’s managed to turn me into this desperate, needy person. “This isn’t me,” I finally say and put my phone down.
“What are you doing?” Lissy asks as if I just grew a second head right before her eyes.
“I’m letting him wait. I’m not going to rush to reply.”
“Girl, you’re so messed up. You were just complaining he doesn’t contact you and now you’re playing hard to get?” I laugh, realizing how hot and cold I have been running, but who can blame me? He’s messing with me.
“I’m not playing hard to get. I’m just not rushing to reply. He made me wait six days. He can wait a few hours.” I force the confidence into my statement and push out my reservations. I need to remember who I’m dealing with. I might be out of my league, but he is out of his comfort zone. We both are playing blind.
“Well, you have more willpower than me. A man like Jesse messages me, asking how I feel after a one-time deal, I’d have that message typed up, ready to go.” She snaps her fingers and I roll my eyes.
“Shut up. He can wait.” I ignore the last part of her advice. She was right the first time. It’s not who I am. And it’s not who I want to be.
I need to remember that when dealing with Jesse Carter.
ME: I’m good. How are you?
I type back later in the night when I climb into bed. I’m not expecting a reply tonight, so I’m surprised when I shut off my bedside lamp and my phone lights up my room.
JESSE: Can’t stop thinking about you.
His reply has me reading it a few times. Okay, not what I was expecting. I thought he would still be angry, especially when he hasn’t called all week.
ME: What are you thinking about?
I push in the characters, before deleting them, only to retype them and quickly press send.
JESSE: You bent over my bike. Your tight pussy gripping my cock.
The words sound in my ears as I picture him saying them to me in his deep voice. Holy shit.
Me: It’s something that I can’t get out of my head either.
I bravely type back. I wish I wouldn’t fall so easily into his traps, but I can’t help it when it comes to Jesse. The need to see where it takes me is too strong to ignore.
JESSE: What are you doing now?
ME: I’m in bed.
JESSE: Touching yourself?
The text messages continue to flow. My face heats up at his insinuation and I quickly type back.
ME: No.
JESSE: Do it.
And at those two words, my hand moves on its own, slides down my stomach and into my panties. With my left hand, I slowly type out my reply.
ME: Okay
I click send as my finger finds its rhythm. After waiting for more than a minute for a reply, I wonder if he was just messing with me, until my phone starts ringing.
“Hello?” I answer, my finger frozen on my clit.
“You’re doing it?” His tone is a mixture of disbelief and pain. I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed hearing his voice.
“Yeah,” I breathe, as I start back up, letting the sensual act take over.
“Fuck, sweetheart,” he groans and even with the distance between us, it has the same effect as if he were here touching me. “Are you wet?” If I wasn’t, I would be now with the way he asks.
“Yes,” I moan, rubbing harder. Faster.
“Jesus, what I wouldn’t do to taste you, Bell.” I hear movement in the background and my limbs become suspended with apprehension.
“Where are you?” I question, hoping he doesn’t have me on speaker.
“In my bed.”
“What are you doing?” I relax, my hesitation chased away by his answer, and I let my finger start working again.
“My hand is wrapped around my hard cock remembering how tight your pussy felt.”
“Oh, God,” I whisper, loving the way he talks to me. “No one has ever spoken to me like this before,” I confess a truth I never expected.
“You fucking love it, don’t you? I can picture your pretty pussy glistening for me over my dirty mouth.” The sound of him stroking himself gets louder as I work my way to an orgasm.
“You close, baby?” he asks. And I am.
“Yeah.”
“Good, now picture me there, my head between your legs, fucking you with my tongue.”
“Jesse,” I moan a little too loudly.
“That’s it, baby. My tongue is licking at your clit as my finger drills into you, over and over. You’re coming all over my face, your juices coating my tongue. I can taste it now. Sweet. So fucking sweet.”
A quickening begins in my stomach, growing stronger before exploding through my senses. My orgasm hits me violently, and I have to bite the side of my cheek to stop from shouting out.
“Don’t hold back, Bell. I wanna hear what I do to you,” Jesse’s words float through, pushing me further, and forcing a wave of explosion inside of me.
“Jesse,” I cry out, wanting to please him.
“Yes, baby,” he groans. “Fuck, Bell,” he curses before crying out in a moan. The sound of him coming takes me back to the first night when I brought him to orgasm.
“Fuck, baby,” Jesse grunts, following me into our own sex-induced sphere. Sharp inhales of air are shared between us. Our breathing becomes the only sounds as we come back to ourselves.
“You there?” he asks when it falls silent.
“Yeah,” I whisper, feeling vulnerable again. I wish I could have it in me to feel ashamed, but I don’t.
“That’s the second time you’ve made me come with a hand job, sweetheart.” He chuckles and I love the sound of it. It’s the only time I feel like he’s really being himself.
“You remember the first time?”
“Been trying for the last few weeks to remember. It’s been coming back to me. No way I’m gonna forget it now, or what just happened.” He sounds absolute so I decide to give him honesty in return.
“I’ve never done this before.”
“Jesus, me either,” he admits and I let the news stir in my belly.
“Are we going to talk about what happened?” I bravely ask. I don’t want it to hang in the air between us. I need to know where I stand. I’ve come to really enjoy talking to Jesse. If it can’t be more, I need to prepare myself for less.
“I’m still pissed.” Guilt swarms back through me. Threatening to take up residence.
“I’m sorry, Jesse. You just make me lose my head. I wanted to tell you, but I just…” I trail off, ‘cause what else can I say?
“You should have told me. Do you know how fucked up that is? Taking that from you, with no respect. Fucking you on my bike, Bell. I already know I’m an asshole, but to fucking take it there.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I just…I just didn’t want you to say no. I wanted it to be you.”
“You deserve more than that, Bell. You fucking deserve a bed,” he says on a growl and I can hear him getting worked up. I don’t want to end this call too soon.
“You think that’s what I want, but I only wanted you, Jesse. Any way you give me, I want it,” I admit and hope it doesn’t push him away.
He’s silent for a beat, the silence only taunting me with my mistake.
“You’re bad news, Bell, but for the life of me, I can’t stay away.” His words surprise me, but don’t deter me.
“Why do you want to fight it, Jesse?” Preparing for resistance, I force myself to sit up.