He snatched it back.
Condoms? Is there more than one?
In spite of myself, I laughed. He was so ridiculous sometimes. I took the notepad and wrote what I felt was a reasonable reply.
No. Just the one.
Which I’d gotten free at a bar some time ago, but whatever.
I thought it was good to be prepared. Wasn’t sure if you’d want to go for the gold yet. Thought you might want to practice first.
The look he gave me after reading my words sent a jolt of pure arousal through me. Especially since he didn’t look away as he wrote out his response.
Oh, I want to practice. Over and over. But every time I want to be dripping out of you like I was this afternoon.
I clutched the pen and breathed. Honestly, that was all I was capable of for about thirty seconds.
You’re saying that stuff with your dad and brother two feet away? Don’t you have any shame?
I nudged the pad at him and he grabbed it up fast enough that he tore the edge of the page.
Oh yeah, I do. Notice I haven’t thrown you on this table yet and fucked you right here? Trust me, that’s a feat.
He started to push the notepad back then took it again before I could.
You keep licking your lips and looking at me and looking away, and I know what all those signs mean. You want it too. Want me.
I read his words and debated a comeback. They were what we exchanged. Always, over everything. Rarely serious, always messing around and antagonizing each other. That was our way.
Telling the truth was so much harder.
Duh.
Okay, I didn’t say it was a reveal worthy of Dr. Phil, just that it resembled honesty. Hesitantly, I slid the pad back to him.
He laughed. Just sat there laughing at me, or with me—hell, maybe at us—and I laughed too, because he wasn’t the only one who was ridiculous. We both were.
For a moment, he just stroked the pen. That shouldn’t have sensual, but somehow it was. When he started to write, I inched forward on my seat, too eager to see his message to wait until he passed it back.
Skype tonight?
I nodded and he wrote more.
Naked Skype?
I shook my head, smiling faintly.
Maybe a still or two?
I bit my lip, pretending to think it over.
For sustenance during toddler party planning.
“Maybe,” I mouthed, knowing I’d probably send him any naughty pictur
es he wanted. Even if I blushed the whole time.
This was Seth. I didn’t have to worry he’d upload the pictures on the internet or do anything sketchy with them. We could have the world’s biggest fight and never speak to each other again and I’d never have to worry about that. He was a decent, honorable guy.