Page 16 of Texting, Trouble & Touchdowns
Olivia: You’re delusional, and let’s be honest, you don’t know me at all.
Lucian: And you’re avoiding my question. Want to know what we do in my dreams?
Olivia: This feels like a trap.
Lucian: It is. But you’re already inside, so might as well play along.
Olivia: Fine. Entertain me, Crawford.
Lucian: Oh, sweetheart. I’d rather do a lot more than entertain you.
Olivia: I immediately regret this.
Lucian: Too late. Now you have to live with the knowledge that in my dreams, you’re mine.
Olivia: Yours?
Lucian: Completely.
Lucian: You think you’re so in control, but when I have you pinned beneath me, your breath coming fast, your body arching into mine, you don’t fight it.
Lucian: You beg.
Olivia: I do not beg.
Lucian: Not yet. But in my dreams? You do. With my mouth between your thighs, my fingers inside you, stretching you open, you don’t just beg—you whimper, you gasp, you say my name like it’s the only thing keeping you tethered to reality.
Olivia: You have a vivid imagination.
Lucian: Oh, sweetheart. This isn’t imagination. You and I . . . we’re inevitable.
Olivia: Big words for a man currently texting me alone in his house with nothing but his hand for company.
Lucian: You think I’m jerking off to this?
Olivia: I think you probably can’t help yourself.
Lucian: Maybe. Or maybe I’m saving it for when you’re here when I can press you against my front door and make you feel exactly how hard you get me just by running your mouth.
Lucian: Maybe I want your hands on me instead. Maybe I want to see what that smart mouth of yours can do besides drive me wild.
Olivia: You assume a lot.
Lucian: I assume correctly.
Lucian: Tell me, Doc. Are you flushed right now?
Olivia: No.
Lucian: Liar.
Olivia: You’re impossible.
Lucian: You protest a lot, but you keep texting me back. Why is that?
Olivia: Morbid curiosity.
Lucian: Curiosity about what? How long I can keep you on edge? How many ways I can make you come undone?
