Page 29 of Rough and Ready (More Than A Cowboy 2)
Harper: You’re awake. Thought you’d see this when you got up.
Me: No worries, princess. Why am I proud of you?
Harper: Some of my colleagues were talking about MMA, and I was able to keep up. I spoke their language.
Me: I thought they spoke English over there.
Harper: I meant MMA talk. I knew what an RNC is.
I laughed then, picturing her making the arm motions for the rear naked choke, one of the many submissions in the sport.
Me: And how do you know about all that?
Harper: I watched you on YouTube.
Me: Ten minutes. Call me.
Harper: Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were with someone. Sorry.
Me: Don’t be sorry. And I’m with the guys not someone. Call me in ten minutes, princess.
I stood then patted one of my friends on the shoulder and signaled I was leaving. I gave them both hand slaps—it was too loud to talk—and I bolted.
My apartment door closed behind me as my phone rang.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
“I’m sorry to bother when you’re with--”
“Princess,” I said with a whole lot of frustration.
She sighed, and I heard it across the miles. “What are we doing?” she asked.
I toed off my shoes, shrugged out of my coat as I pressed my phone to my ear with my shoulder.
“Talking.”
I heard her sigh. “This is way more than talking.”
I had no intention of telling her about the guys in the parking lot. If they weren’t for her, it didn’t matter. If they were there for her, I didn’t want to freak her out when she was so far away. I wanted her to freak out with me right beside her.
“Want to have phone sex?” I asked, trying again although not overly serious. One of these days, I’d get her relaxed enough with me to say yes.
She paused. “No.”
I stilled just inside my bedroom doorway. “Do you mean that no?”
Another pause. “No. You said… you said I shouldn’t get off with some random guy.”
Her voice lacked the usual determination. I ran my hand through my hair, frustrated that she still didn’t get it. Fuck, someone did a number on her. I had to assume it was her brother or at least her brother to start. “I’m not a random guy, princess. We sexted last night. And, I said if you need to get off, I’m the one to help.”
She was quiet, and I didn’t fill the silence. I waited her out. “I thought about it,” she finally admitted. “With someone else, I mean. Considered it earlier. It was offered.”
I flicked on my bedside lamp, a soft glow filled the room.
Anger bubbled up. Sexting didn’t mean commitment, but she’d considered fucking an Englishman after what we’d done? “A random guy wanted a quick fuck with you?”
