She fell slowly forward until her forehead thumped the table. Then she thumped it again. “You are so bad at this,” she muttered. The last thump must have jarred something loose, because her head buzzed.
The second buzz vibrated through her elbow.
She reached for her phone so quickly that it slid away from her and nearly off the edge of the table, but she caught the slippery bastard and flipped it over.
No, thank YOU, it said. The pleasure was all mine.
She grinned so hard she thought her cheeks might cramp. Even though she told herself to wait a moment, she typed back immediately. Not true at all. Finally.
His response was much quicker this time: a smiley face that matched her own ridiculous expression. She wanted to play it coy, but too many things were bubbling up inside her. She couldn’t fight her eagerness. It was too new and too sweet.
She gave in without a struggle. You’re not still planning to keep me waiting, are you?
As if in answer, he didn’t respond immediately this time. She bit her lip and tapped her foot. Then she glared at her phone. “Come on,” she muttered.
It finally buzzed. Oh, I’m definitely going to make you wait.
NO! she wrote back. There’s no need! I’m squirming RIGHT NOW.
It wasn’t a joke. He was teasing her. Flirting with her. She was so damn delighted that she felt like a stupid teenage girl twirling her hair while she talked to her crush. But...with the added tension of knowing exactly what his mouth felt like on her clit. She squeezed her thighs together and laughed at the terrible tension already coiling between her legs.
God, don’t say that, Gabe wrote back. Lunch break over in five minutes. I need to be presentable.
Veronica clapped a hand over her mouth to try to catch her scandalized laugh. She’d gotten letters seeking advice about sexting, and she’d always been a little scornful. It had seemed silly to her. But now she understood the appeal. If Gabe hadn’t been at work, she would have teased him, tempted him, just to feel more of the hot power that pulsed into her blood. He was getting hard for her. She wanted him aching. She wanted him to touch himself and tell her about it. It was intoxicating.
Don’t make me wait, she tried again.
Thursday’s not far away. And you know I never miss a show.
Thursday??? She sent that text and then shook her head. She wanted to see him sooner, but she didn’t want to beg. Then again, when she’d asked nicely on Sunday, he’d come right over. She glared at the smiley face he sent back. It looked so serene. So peaceful.
“Ha,” she said, narrowing her eyes at the phone. She had something to offer now, too. She was a savant. Thursday is a long way off if you’re already hard. Have fun remembering my mouth.
As soon as she sent it, she started laughing. She laughed harder when she saw his response. Damn you.
She was going to have to go back and pull that email she’d gotten last week about sexting. She’d type up a response today and post it on the online extras. She had a whole new attitude now.
If you can’t wait that long, she wrote, I need a date tonight. Charity thing at a gallery. Interested?
Her phone stayed silent for a while. This time she didn’t doubt herself. He might have more experience, but she wasn’t powerless. His hands had been shaking last night. He’d wanted it so badly.
Finally, she got her answer. Yes.
Veronica took a deep breath, trying to steady her thundering heart. Yes. She’d see him tonight. She texted the details and said goodbye. Then she very carefully set her phone down on the table, opened her laptop and got back to work.
CHAPTER TWELVE
GABE WAS RUNNING LATE. He hated being late. He especially hated being late when he knew that Veronica was waiting for him.
He’d warned her that he wouldn’t be there before eight and it was only seven fifty, but he had to get home to shower and change before he could meet her at the gallery.
Still, instead of rushing out of the training room of the fire station, he slapped Benton on the back. “You’d better work on that overhand bend,” he said.
“Fuck you,” Benton returned with a smile as he unraveled the climbing knots he’d been working on.
“I’m just saying. That knot took you three tries.”
“It took two tries, asshole.”