Page 4 of Hung Up

I just fucked my phone.

Fuck.

I grabbed a tissue from my side table and wiped off the phone. I’d sanitize it tomorrow.

After gently placing the phone back on the receiver, my arm pulled away nervously. My pulse jumped, though this time for an entirely different reason than before.

The phone sat silent on my white duvet. Despite my scandalous evening, its ever constant presence comforted me, grounding me as sleep beckoned.

A sad smile quirked the corner of my mouth.

“At least I’ll always have you.”

I heard nothing in response.

A heavy sigh left me, and I rolled over. Lights were next, my sleep mask was yanked onto my head, and before a full minute had passed, I’d curled myself under my covers.

“I wish you could hold me after.”

The silence was suffocating.

Note to self: All she has to do is ask.

Asoft tickle brushed my nose, and I slapped a hand on my face.

Groaning, I pushed my sleep mask up and cracked my eyes open. Bright golden sunlight streamed in through my open curtains, and I cursed internally. I must’ve forgotten to shut them before bed.

Rubbing a fist against my eye, my vision cleared. Shapes began forming as I yawned deeply. When I stretched my arms above my head, a throaty chuckle reverberated across the sheets.

“What the—” I shouted, scrambling away from the hunk of a man laying naked next to me. “Who the fuck are you?”

The strange man just chuckled and bit his plump bottom lip, and my eyes trailed over his firm body. Gleaming pale skin sparkled back at me, his chest on full display. Hard pecs with tight brown nipples stood at attention, and his chiseled abdomen was a work of art. I almost needed to shield my eyes from the glint bouncing off his six-pack. One of his hands rubbed the scruff on his jaw, a sly smirk heating the air between us.

His gentle, chocolate eyes were alight with lust, piercing me with their passion. I felt heat bloom in my pussy, a whimper barely slipping past my lips as I lost myself to his aura.

“Who are you?” I tried again, my voice no less affected than before, though I tried to hide it by clearing my throat.

“Does it matter, baby?” he countered. “We both know you’re only here for one thing.” At that, he reached over to touch my face.

“Me?!” I screeched. “You’re in my house!” I smacked his hand away from me.

The naked man just laughed, and my blood spiked, though only because the way his Adam’s apple jumped threw me into a daze. It was like I suddenly threw all sense of safety out of my window and into the dry heat of Arcadia.

“That’s it, I’m gonna call—” My words stuck in my throat. Shit. My arms swept over the duvet, pushing the naked man over as I looked for a phone, any phone.

Double shit. My princess phone was gone. Where was my cell?

I twisted, eyes shooting straight for my bedside table where I usually charged my phone, but it wasn’t there.

Fuck. It was still on the couch.

The naked man laughed and I turned to glare at him, but the blanket had shifted a few inches and I was now blessed with the sight of his very happy trail leading into a pair of hot pink, super tight boxer-briefs. A chuckle lodged itself in my throat as my hand flew up to my mouth.

How was his package still so sexy in those bright pink boxers?

“Let’s see if you can still laugh when I stuff your mouth full of my cock.”

My eyes bugged, laughter ceasing entirely. His words were said casually, but he was dead serious.

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