Page 119 of Play the Game

A line of desire zips down to my groin, and I adjust myself in my sweats. I quickly swipe out of our texts and pull up my camera app. Bouncing through all the camera angles, I finally find her in our bed with one of my T-shirts on. There’s a bunch of papers and envelopes off to the side, and the TV must be on, because I see the glow of the screen flickering over her face.

I quickly swipe the video of her to the side and share the screen with my texts.

Nice shirt.

She smiles at first, but then her smile falls, and she flicks her gaze to the camera.

You’re being a creep.

Not unless you start to do something naughty. Maybe I’m just being protective. Making sure you’re okay.

I glance at my dick. Its rigid appearance has nothing to do with it.

I already took care of that. ??

And I’m perfectly safe inside the house. Shutter will protect me.

I swallow my thick spit and slouch farther in my seat so none of the guys up front can look back and see the desire on my face.

You better not have taken care of that.

And I’m the only one who’s going to protect you.

I’ll protect Shutter too, since he means so much to her.

I press on my dick to make it stop throbbing.

I’m the only one who’s going to take care of you too.

Could I be any more possessive? Fucking Christ.

The thought of anyone taking care of her sends me to the edge, though.

Which is completely unhinged.

Says who?

I drag my attention to the little video beside my texts and clench my jaw. The blankets are flung off to the side, and all the papers and envelopes that were scattered around her have disappeared. Her legs call to me, and when she pulls up the T-shirt, I nearly die.

Stop it.

Stop what? Surely you’re not telling me I can’t touch my own body.

I swear to God.

She will regret this when I get home.

With her shirt pulled up high enough that I can see her panties, I start to sweat.

You know I don’t like to be bossed around.

You know what? I think you do. I bet you’re so fucking wet at the thought of me watching you on the camera. Want me to tell you what to do too?

Please say yes.

I glance at the clock. Thirty minutes until we land. Fifteen-minute bus ride to my car.

So, one hour tops until I get to her.

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