Page 137 of Surprisingly Us

I swallow thickly, letting the words on the screen sink in. He wanted to come up to my apartment and kiss me. I imagine whatit would be like if he was here now, and I wonder if he’d let himself do what he wanted.

Lettie:Why didn’t you want to tell me?

Rhys:It’s against the rules.

Lettie:Rules schmules

Rhys:That doesn’t sound like you at all. Now I’m wondering if I’m texting the right person.

Lettie:The old Lettie can’t text right now.

Rhys:Why?

Lettie:Because she’s too turned on

I don’t think I would be able to tell him that to his face. Texting gives me the confidence.

My thighs squeeze together as I wait for his next message, but nothing comes. Those three dots indicating he’s typing appear, then disappear. Oh, god. I’m starting to second-guess everything. Maybe I went too far.

Rhys:What are you going to do about it?

My body shivers in response to his reply.

Lettie:Touch myself

Rhys:Is my ring on your finger when you touch yourself?

Lettie:See for yourself

I snap a photo of my left hand, fingers teasing into the waistband of my sleep shorts, my engagement ring winking up at the camera.

Rhys:Damn, Princess. Are you wet?

Seeing my nickname on the screen loosens the grip on my chest. I slide my hand under my panties and dip a finger into my center. I’m drenched.

Lettie:So wet

Rhys:If I were there, I’d lick that pretty cunt

Lettie:If you were here, I’d probably let you

My phone starts buzzing with an incoming call from Rhys. For a moment I’m debating not answering it, but I need to be an adult about this.

“Hello?” I answer, my voice barely a whisper.

“Probably?” His husky voice tickles my ear through the phone. “You’dprobablylet me?”

“Oops, it just came out that way. I guess I’m not very good at this.” I put the phone on speaker and set it down near my pillow.

“Are you kidding? I couldn’t get my zipper down fast enough the moment you started texting me.”

“Really?” I like the idea that Rhys was so turned on by my words that he had to touch himself.

“Are we doing this?” His voice is strained, like he’s holding himself back.

“I don’t want to stop,” I sigh, letting my fingers slide over my slick flesh. “I want you to talk to me like you did the night you proposed.”

A deep growl echoes over the speaker. I close my eyes.

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