Page 17 of Numbers Boy
“Told you,” he gloats. “Now, take it a bit deeper. Maybe ask what he’s wearing?”
I turn and face my friend, eyes wide. “Woah there, big guy. I thought we were testing the waters, not jumping right in.”
“What?” Stu asks with a confused expression. “Don’t you want to know?”
“Well, yeah, but I don’t think we’re to sexting levels yet!”
“Fine, play it safe.”
Me: Any fun plans tonight?
Noah: Just watching old romcoms with Blake, Amy, and the girls
Noah has told me all about his sister and her two daughters. Every time he does, he gets this soft, mushy expression on hisface. Thinking about it now makes me wonder if he wants kids of his own someday. He’s clearly already an amazing uncle. I bet he’d be the best dad. I snap myself out of that thought and focus back on our texts.
Me: That sounds fun. I bet the girls had a fun day at school getting all that candy
Noah: Lol you bet they did, just look at their boxes *image attached*
I turn up my phone brightness to see the picture better. In the middle of it are two Valentine treat boxes, one decorated like an orange cat with a pink bow tie and the other wrapped all in pink with hand-drawn conversation hearts all over it. They’re both overflowing with candy, but as I scan the image again, I get sidetracked by what has to be Noah’s legs and lap. There’s a small sliver of pink where his shirt is just out of the shot, and he’s wearing gray sweats again. God, I love those sweats. I can see just the faintest outline of his cock. It looks long, even lying soft against his thigh, and my mind conjures all sorts of naughty things I want to do with it if I ever get to see it in person.
I startle when Stu taps my chin, and I realize my jaw has dropped.
“Careful, or you’re going to end up drooling on your phone,” Stu teases.
“Worth it,” I counter, still not tearing my eyes away.
Me: Is that a pink shirt I see? Something for Valentine’s Day?
Noah: Yeah, hold on a second, I’ll get a pic
I grin over at Stu and shake my phone.
“He’s sending me a pic.”
“A dick pic? I thought you weren’t jumping into the deep end.”
I smack Stu’s chest and roll my eyes. “I’m not, you dork! He’s sending me a pic that includes his whole shirt.”
Noah: *image attached*
I tap on the picture to make it full screen, Stu leaning in again to look with me.
“Holy shit…” Stu says, voice quiet with awe. “That dude’s got some guns.”
My jaw has no hope of being picked up off the floor, so my phone’s just going to have to deal with the drool because holy shit is right. I knew Noah was big, but I’ve only ever seen him in hoodies or his giant winter coat. I had no idea he was hiding all that muscle under all his comfy layers.
Noah is facing a mirror, one hand holding up his phone, his hand tatt on full display. The swirls from the words blend seamlessly into another design on his forearm. His sexy, veiny forearm. I wonder if I asked nicely, if he’d wear a dress shirt for me just so I could watch him roll the cuffs back in a miniature striptease. Tearing my eyes from the vein snaking its way up to his elbow, I move on to his other arm, which is holding the hem of his shirt so I can read “My Valentines Have Paws.” The shirt makes me smile, as does the fact that –
“He’s totally flexing for you,” Stu notes. Yep, that. I would have been able to read the shirt even without him holding it, but I’m not going to complain. “I’d say you’re safe to send one back.”
I nod and click my camera open, then hand the phone to Stu.
“How’s my makeup?”
“Perfect, like normal.”
I wink at him and pose. “Thanks, babe. Make sure you get the heels.”
