Page 41 of The Love You Win

I want to see her let her hair down. I want to make her smile the way she did in her older Instagram posts.

With a wide grin, I tap the little camera icon in our text thread, switch it to selfie mode, and point at the stain near the collar of my sweatshirt. It’s pizza sauce that never quite came out, but the hoodie is so broken in I can’t bring myself to toss it. Why get rid of the most comfortable piece of clothing I own just because of a little sauce stain? That would be madness.

I send the photo and take another sip of my beer. It takes a moment to get anything back from her, but it’s worth the wait.

She’s fighting laughter in the selfie. She’s makeup free, her hair is down and wilder than the two times I’ve seen her, and her blue eyes sparkle.

Hell, she’s beautiful.

When I notice the stain on her hoodie—in almost the same spot as mine—I laugh loudly. The only difference is that hers looks like a red wine stain.

Isla

Twinning!

Me

Maybe we should wear these to the auction dinner.

It would certainly make a statement.

So you’ll come?

I’ll come.

God, I want to make a dirty joke about how I’ll make her come, but I hold myself back. I can’t put my foot in my mouth again. That doesn’t stop the mental images of Isla throwing her head back in a silent scream as she writhes on my dick from making me hard. I’m always hard when I think about her.

Guess I know how I’m ending this night. With my dick in my fist.

Me

I’m going to hold you to that.

Isla

Well, I wouldn’t want to disappoint your friends.

Well played.

I know.

ESPN is all but forgotten as we text back and forth for another fifteen minutes. Then I tug down my sweatpants, imagine Isla’s beautiful body naked and kneeling at my feet, ready to suck me down, and take my cock in my hand. Using my thumb, I spread the bead of pre-cum around my head. I wish it was Isla’s tongue wetting my shaft, but this will have to do for now. I’m painfully hard from our banter, so it’s not long before my body tightens with my impending release.

With every tug and stroke of my dick, I picture Isla’s pretty little mouth taking me. Her muffled moans would fill the air as I pressed into her throat. Those delicate fingers of hers would clutch my ass, urging me deeper. She’d be greedy for me. Wild for me. A goddess amongst mortals.

My balls tighten seconds before my orgasm rips through me, and hot ropes of cum paint my abs.

If this is how turned on I am after texting this woman, I’m fucked. Doesn’t mean I’ll stop what I’m doing, though. Like Navarro said: I’m a goner.

eighteen

THURSDAY

Maddox

Do you think I could get away with wearing a tracksuit to the auction dinner?

Isla

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