Page 80 of Melting the Ice

“Fuck off.” I knocked back the rest of my beer and then strode out of the hotel restaurant and toward the elevator, ignoring the taunts they called out to me.

I tapped on her message box. Thankfully, Ray hadn’t followed it up with any more texts.

Micah: I’m heading to my room. Sorry for disappearing.

Josie: Ooh. Done with dinner and on to the sexting. Yes, please.

I jabbed the elevator button, grateful when the door opened soon after. I stepped into the elevator and pushed the button for my floor, leaning against the wall behind me.

Josie: Should I strip now or give you a show on video?

I groaned.

Micah: Hold on. I’ll be in my room soon.

My dick was still not over the sheer panic of texting Ray. Fuck. I was a mess. And she was probably going to laugh her ass off when I told her.

I stepped off the elevator and walked down the hall to my room, swiping my keycard against the door, grateful that I didn’t have a roommate.

Part of me wanted to just text her, but I tapped out her name, needing to see her face.

“Hello there. Damn. You still have clothes on,” she murmured, her eyes dark with desire.

“So. Not to ruin the mood or anything, but I sent a dirty text to your brother,” I started.

Her mouth gaped open. “Um. What?”

My body felt tingly, and not in a good way. I felt, well,ickywas the best way to describe it. Traumatized, maybe.

I audibly swallowed and pulled on my shirt collar. “So, yeah. Uh, funny story, I guess. After you sent me that hot picture, Ray texted at the same time, so his window popped up and I texted for him to send me a new picture without the shirt on.”

She giggled. “You did not. Oh my god, Micah.”

“And I might’ve also asked if you were wet.”

She burst out laughing, her head thrown back as her body shook. “Holy crap, that’s amazing.” She paused. “I mean, potentially scarring, but also amazing.”

“It’s not funny,” I grumbled. “I feel like I need to shower.”

“Well, don’t strip off-camera,” she said, still laughing.

I glared at her image on the phone. “It’s not funny. What if I had typed your name?”

“Did you?”

“No. Thank fuck.” I raked my hand through my hair.

“Okay. That’s good.”

“We could tell him,” I said. “I mean, not tonight, or he will freak the fuck out because of my texts, and I’m pretty sure he encouraged me to get back to sexting and tell him about it later.”

She scrunched her nose. “Ew. Yeah, it’s a good thing you didn’t use my name.” She sighed. “I know we should tell them, but I like our bubble. Can we keep it just between us a little longer?”

“Yeah. But don’t hate me if I’m not in the mood to talk dirty to you right now.”

She smirked. “I get it. That was scary. You should sleep on it and feel better in the morning.”

“Very funny,” I deadpanned.

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