Page 71 of Everything We Left Unsaid

Jacob:I hope so.

My entire body slouches, his noncommittal response squashing any optimism I’d let myself feel.

Three little dots fade in and out across my screen and my spine straightens. I hate myself for how desperately I need his assurances. I crave them, covet them. I need to know he’ll keep his word so I can justify believing in him so unfailingly.

Jacob: One way or another, I’m going to see you guys soon. And I’ll do everything in my power to make it this weekend.

I feel his declaration in my chest, my heart fluttering with delight.

Jacob: I miss you so much. I need you bare, your naked body tangled with mine, your warm skin under my hands.

A tiny gasp parts my lips as I suck in a deep breath, heat spreading out from my lower belly. He can’t do this to me while I’m at work. My face flushes as though my coworkers somehow know what I just read. I type out my quick reply and hit send.

Me:I need that too.

The three dots return immediately, and his response pops up in seconds.

Jacob:What else?

In my mind, I can imagine him growling the demand into my ear and I squirm a little in my chair. Is he sexting me? Jason Derulo’s “Talk Dirty to Me” rushes into my thoughts, invading them with all the naughty things I could beg for.

Me: I need to feel your lips on me.

Jacob: Where?

Me: Everywhere.

Jacob: Tell me more.

Finally diving in headfirst, I type out my reply, my bottom lip trapped between my teeth.

Me:I want your lips on mine, on my body, between my legs.

I hit send and continue, giving him only scraps, little morsels of seduction to whet his appetite.

Me: I need to feel your hands on my body, your long fingers buried inside me as your tongue drives me over the edge.

Send.

Me: I want to hear you groan and feel your fingers in my hair when I take you in my mouth.

That one will really get to him.

Me: Then I want to ride you like I did in the back seat of your car. I want to try every position imaginable and find the one that has you buried the deepest.

I smile to myself as I deliver the message. He asked for it, but I’m sure he didn’t see that coming.

I finally stop so he has a chance to respond

Jacob:Fuck, Abby. How am I supposed to get any work done with this hard-on?

My thighs clamp together to quell the throbbing in my already wet center. Texting Jacob all the naughty things I want to do with him has me so turned on I can barely see straight.

Me:I don’t know, but I hope you make it in this weekend so I can help you with that little problem of yours.

Send.

Jacob:You and I both know there’s nothing little about my problem.

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