Page 30 of Revive

Em: He just got out of the shower. Might make it a trifecta.

Seeing as she’ll be occupied until further notice, I don’t bother writing back. Instead, I take her messages as approval and pull up the number, I had almost given up on using.

I agonise for a good ten minutes, typing and retyping the text. In the end, I settle for something witty and fairly closed. No questions, and no expectations of a reply.

Me: I figured the three-day rule was bullshit and decided to message right before it was up. Sleep well, Sexy.

Debating on whether or not to switch my phone off and sleep, a message comes through quicker than I expect.

Hendrix: I’ve been waiting for you to text me.

Me: Three days is hardly a long time.

Hendrix: Long enough when I’ve been jerking off to the very thought of you every single one of those three days.

My insides coil at the image of him fisting his cock, the words on the screen enough to suck the air out of my room. My pulse quickens, as I take deep, long breaths. My fingers finding their way dangerously close to my underwear.

The phone vibrates in my hand, another message coming through.

Hendrix: Cat got your tongue?

Two can play this game, Sexy.

I call him.

“Oh, so youcantalk,” he says sarcastically.

“Of course I can, it’s just really hard to text with one hand.”

“One hand? Where’s th—” I hear his mind tick over, my innuendo registering. “Where’s your other hand, Crazy?”

I click my tongue. “A woman never tells.”

Low and gravelly, he asks, “Are you thinking about me?”

Yes

“Maybe”

“Let me stay on the phone with you.”

Yes

“No. I’d rather have you drive yourself crazy imagining it.”

“Meet me after work tomorrow.”

Yes

“I’m busy for the next week,” I lie. Tonight’s warnings still playing devil’s advocate in the back of my mind. “You might have to jerk yourself off for a little bit longer.”

“Don’t leave me fucking hanging, I want to see you.”

Me too

“Sorry, Sexy.”

“Crazy,” he growls, sounding hoarse and needy.

---