*****
Later that night, as the crowds wound down she reached for her phone to call him when she saw Clay had texted her. Her eyes widened, lighting up with anticipation. With hopeful fingers, she slid open the message.
I can’t stop thinking about you.
Her heart thrummed hard against her chest as she savored the words, each one like decadent chocolate. She clutched the phone to her chest, as if that simple act would bring him closer. She walked into the back room, needing a moment alone with his text. She closed the door behind her, leaned against it and stared like a lovestruck idiot at the screen again, running her fingertip across his message.
She cycled through her options. She could pretend she never saw it. She could delete it. She could keep on ignoring him. But the very thought of that felt like thorns twisting in her gut. She’d been in a funk since she’d left New York. A real ball of piss. She’d slept badly, she’d been sullen when she went for her morning run, and she could barely focus on the book she’d been reading at bedtime. Her thoughts careened back to him. A reply might unwind some of the tension knitting its way through her body.
Though she knew the risks, she became convinced with each passing second that answering his message wasn’t dangerous. It was simply answering a message. Sometimes a cigar was just a cigar.
The very least she could do was write back.
Would love to know what you’re thinking about…
Only later did she remember she’d forgotten all about McKenna’s request for an introduction. So much the better. Another reason to be back in touch.
By the way, my sister’s fiancé wants to talk to you about working together. I’ll send you his info. Though I still want to know what you’re thinking about.
She paused, her thumbs hovering over her smartphone. Then, she added, just so there’d be no misunderstanding, about her intent – xoxo.
Chapter Sixteen
from: [email protected]
date: April 16, 10:48 AM
subject: What I’m thinking about…
Everything. Your hair. Your ass. Your beautiful br**sts. Your lips. You curled up in my bed. Your attitude. Most of all, why the f**k you left like that.
from: [email protected]
date: April 16, 11:08 AM
subject: The other thoughts please
Something came up. Can we go back to those other items instead?
from: [email protected]
date: April 16, 5:48 PM
subject: Not sure…
I don’t know. Can we?
from: [email protected]
date: April 16, 11:48 PM
subject: Be sure…
You tell me.
from: [email protected]
date: April 17, 6:48 AM
subject: Ball. In. Your. Court.
You tell me what you’re wearing. You tell me if you can’t stop thinking about me. You tell me why you’re not here spread across my lap, that beautiful ass calling out for my palm.
from: [email protected]
date: April 17, 9:48 AM
subject: Served
So you’re saying you want to spank me?
from: [email protected]
date: April 17, 3:48 PM
subject: Hand is ready
You have no idea.
from: [email protected]
date: April 17, 3:49 PM
subject:Ass is too
Oh, I have an idea. I definitely have an idea. And I would like that very much. I also think you have a thing for my ass.
from: [email protected]
date: April 17, 11:48 PM
subject: More on that
It’s perfection. I want to bite it. Lick it. Smack it. Grip it hard while I f**k you.
from: [email protected]
date: April 18, 1:01 AM
subject: Which means….
So you still want me, I take it?
from: [email protected]
date: April 18, 7:01 AM
subject: Yes
You know I do. That didn’t change.
from: [email protected]
date: April 18, 11:34 AM
subject: Ditto…
I still want you…
Clay stared at the computer screen, his fingers hovering over the keys, considering a reply. But damn, those words were mocking him. I still want you. How could she say that with the way she’d left? It made no sense, and Michele had spelled it out for him in no uncertain terms that if Julia wanted to play ball, she’d be at the plate, not skipping and frolicking along the foul lines, darting in and out of sight. He pushed away from his keyboard, like an alcoholic trying to step away from the bar. Grabbing a pen and a contract from the pile of papers on his desk, he tossed his phone onto his desk, left his office and locked the door.