Page 4 of Finding Home with You

By the time I’d walked back out to the pub, she’d gone. Beck had told me where she lived and I’d gone straight over there to apologize for what I’d done. That had turned into another argument about assumptions, which led me to confess I’d never not used a condom before. Erin had spat out that she was on the pill, which led to more arguments over what she’d said previously, which of course led to me fucking her against her front door, in the hall, and finally in her bedroom, never once using a condom. I’d spent the night at her place and when she kicked me out the next morning, I was grinning like I’d just won the lottery.

“Fucking hell,” I say to myself, running a hand through my hair as I walk toward the parking lot and my car. As I slide into the seat, I pull out my cell and send a message.

Me: I’ll be up on Friday, Red. I better find you naked when I knock on your front door.

Erin: Who is this?

I smile, knowing she knows who it is. She never gave me her number; this I got through covert means, but we’ve been sexting each other ever since.

Me: the best fucking lay you’ve ever had.

Erin: Tom?

I shake my head, the blood already humming through my veins in irritation at the thought of Erin being with someone else.

Me: are you trying to piss me off?

Erin: I thought you loved it when I did that?

Me: you love the orgasms I give you because of it.

Erin: wanna give me one now?

I have to adjust my pants as I pull out onto the street. It’s only a short drive to my apartment, and right now, I’m glad. I’ve got a hard-on like you wouldn’t believe and I’m in danger of crashing my truck because of it. I’m also seriously considering driving up to Rockport right now so Erin can do something about it.

Me: you know I do. You touching yourself?

There’s nothing for a couple of minutes and as I pull into my parking space and kill the ignition, I have to double check that my message actually went through. Just as I’m about to type out another one, Erin responds.

Erin: I’m fingering myself like you did that first night.

“Fuck me,” I say, slamming the car door and racing up the stairs to my apartment. The second the front door shuts, I’m hitting the call button on my cell.

“Detective Ryan Summers,” she says smugly. “What a surprise.”

I laugh, kicking off my shoes as I walk through to the bedroom. “What, don’t tell me you weren’t hoping I’d call?”

I hear shuffling through the phone and I picture Erin lying on her bed doing exactly what she told me she was doing. “Oh, I was confident you would, especially after my last message,” she says, and I can tell she’s smiling.

I undo my belt and push my pants and boxers down my legs as I sit on the edge of the bed. “So tell me, Red, are you really doing what you said or are you just being a cock tease?”

I hear more shuffling. “Would I lie to you, Detective?” she asks.

I start undoing the buttons of my shirt, shrugging it off before I lie down on my bed, the phone at my ear and my dick in my hand. “No, I’m hoping you wouldn’t,” I tell her.

I hear sucking noises this time before Erin says, “That was me cleaning my fingers like I did to yours that first time.”

“Jesus christ, Erin,” I say, my hips jacking up into my hand at her words.

“What? You don’t like that?” she asks.

“You know I do,” I growl, my hand stroking my cock now.

“Tell me what you’re doing, Detective.”

I moan into the phone as my thumb brushes over the top of my cock. It’s throbbing in my hand, rock hard now because of her voice in my ear and all the things she’s saying. “I’m lying on my bed with my dick in my hand,” I tell her.

“And what are you thinking about?” she asks.

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