Page 70 of Icebound Hearts

ME: Then why didn’t you?

Sawyer doesn’t respond right away, and I stare down at my phone as the three dots appear, then vanish, then reappear. His message comes through a moment later, and I suck in a breath as I read it.

SAWYER: I’m not supposed to touch you.

ME: Do you always do what you’re supposed to do?

SAWYER: Always.

“Fuck,” I whisper, a mixture of arousal and disappointment swirling inside me.

Sawyer is such a good man, and an amazing father. It doesn’t surprise me that he’s the kind of guy who sets rules for himself and doesn’t break them, but now that I know he wants me too, I can’t seem to tame the heat coursing through my veins.

My eyes drift to the dresser, where I stuffed the vibrator I brought with me in the very back of the drawer. With my hands trembling because I can’t quite believe what I’m about to do, I get up and pull out the toy, then set it on the bed next to me. I tap the camera icon in the message thread with Sawyer and line the vibrator up in the frame to snap a picture of it and attach it to a message.

ME: Maybe you can’t touch me… but could you still help me out?

My thumb hovers over the send button as I stare down at the screen. There’s no going back if I send this, and I know that. I probably shouldn’t do it for several good reasons, not least of which is how awkward this could make things if he turns me down. But the rational, cautious side of my brain gets drowned out by the wild side for once.

My thumb hits the send button, and I hold my breath while I wait for a reply.

SAWYER: Fucking hell, heartbreaker…

SAWYER: Are you gonna use that tonight?

ME: I wasn’t planning on it until now, but yes.

I add a follow-up message on impulse.

ME: And I’ll be thinking of you the whole time.

I hear a soft, muffled thud from the next room, and it strikes me that maybe he dropped his phone. Our bedrooms share a wall, and the realization that I can hear him brings my skin to life with goosebumps—because that means he can hear me too.

SAWYER: Are you trying to give me a heart attack?

ME: I’m trying to give you something, but it isn’t that.

SAWYER: Jesus fucking Christ, heartbreaker. Where are you? Are you in bed?

I lie down on the mattress and tap to take a selfie from the neck up, then send it without a caption.

SAWYER: Are you undressed? Take off your panties.

I reach beneath my sleep shirt to tug off my panties and throw them on the floor at the foot of the bed, then get rid of the shirt too, pulling it over my head.

ME: I am now.

SAWYER: Good girl. I bet that feels better.

Another shiver races down my spine, my nipples pebbling as I read his text. Somehow, I’m not surprised at all that Sawyer has a bossy streak in bed, and it only makes him hotter.

SAWYER: Are you wearing anything now?

ME: Nope.

SAWYER: Perfect. Now spread your legs and touch yourself. Tell me how it feels.

A little gasp spills out of me at the hunger that practically radiates from his message, and my clit throbs, desperate for some kind of attention. Holding the phone in one hand, I do exactly what he said. With my feet on the mattress and my knees spread, I slip a hand between my legs and drag my fingers across my clit, biting my lower lip.

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