I couldn’t stop staring at the picture because it looked nothing like me—not the smile or the glimmer in my eyes. It was a happiness I’d never seen before, never felt, and I knew it was from him.
Oliver Bennett.
“Don’t cover it with a filter or have me retake it. Send it just the way it is.” I glanced up as she added, “Trust me.”
Before I could overthink it or question myself, I attached the photo to his text and hit Send. “Done.”
She clinked her glass against mine. “Now, we wait.”
Oliver: Fuck me … you’re gorgeous.
I smiled as I glanced up from my cell, lifting my beer off the table. “He approves of the picture,” I said.
“Of course he does.” My roommate returned the grin. “It’s his turn, and you’d better tell him that too.”
She was good at this, and I was certainly going to take her advice.
Me: Show me something.
Bubbles appeared on his side of the screen, staying there for several seconds before an audio message came through, followed by another text.
Oliver: Listen to that when you’re alone in your bed.
Me: That could be hours from now.
Oliver: It’ll be worth the wait.
Me: Tease.
Oliver: Remember how I was rubbing your clit? That’s what I want you to do while you’re listening to it.
I glanced at my roommate, feeling the blush on my cheeks, and I saw that she was talking to a guy at the next table. Feeling a little less guilty, I returned my attention to the screen.
Me: You’re relentless. But I like it.
Oliver: Now, you have an idea of what you’re doing to me. Text me after.
Me: It could be late.
Oliver: I’m not going to bed anytime soon.
“I need another drink,” I said as I put down my phone, my voice loud enough that my roommate stopped talking to the man next to her, and she glanced at me. “And I think I need something a little stronger than this.” I was on my second beer, and it was less than half full.
“I like where this is going.” She adjusted herself over the small barstool, called over our waiter, and said, “We’ll have four shots, all tequila, and please make them extra cold,” once he arrived at our table.
When we were alone again, I put my hand on top of hers. “I have to remember tonight. That’s vital.” I showed her Oliver’s texts just to give her an idea of what we were dealing with.
When she read enough, she smiled and said, “We’re just warming you up; we’re not losing you. Don’t you worry.”
“Hello?” I said into my phone after I saw Oliver’s name come across the screen.
It was past three in the morning. My roommate had gone home with the guy she’d been talking to at the bar, so I was alone. I had taken full advantage of the privacy, and while I’d listened to Oliver’s forty-four second message that gave me instructions on how to touch myself, I had done exactly what he’d told me to. The picture I’d taken After—the caption I’d also added under the photo—I’d just sent to him a few minutes ago. I couldn’t believe how fast he responded.
“I’ve never wanted to be in London so badly in my fucking life,” he responded, sounding so different than what I was used to. Rough and more growly, like he’d been laughing for hours and he was giving me the little bit of voice he had left.
My eyes briefly closed as the heat began to spark in my body, spreading through me with fierce speed.
To take the shot, I’d turned off all the lights and posed in front of our full-length mirror, wearing only a tank top and panties. Relying on just streetlamps, which was hardly much at all, it made the picture extremely shadowy and too dark to show any details.
Still, it was a taste of me.
One he obviously liked.
“Come back to me, then,” I replied, rolling onto my side, bringing the blanket with me.
“Can’t happen, sweet girl.”
I tucked the scratchy wool under my chin and adjusted my pillow. “Then, how many more days until you come back to me?”
Tequila was in my blood, and it hadn’t died down even a little since I returned from the pub.
“Too many.” He exhaled a long, deep breath. “My God, Chloe. Your fucking body is perfect. If I didn’t want all my mates drooling over this photo, you’d be the background on my phone.” He sighed again, reminding me of when he had done that across my body, his air so delicately hitting my skin. “When I get home, I’m going to kiss every inch of your skin.”
I smiled and rolled onto my back, bending my knees and grinding my toes into the bed.
“Are you still sore?”
I didn’t know why, but I couldn’t sit still as his words vibrated through me, every move causing the tenderness between my legs to ache. But it was the softness in his question, his sensitiveness that was the reason I was melting.
“A little, but I’m okay.”
I heard him take a breath. “I’ll be gentler next time.”
I put my hand under my head, kicking the blanket down, hoping that would cool me off. “Oliver, that’s not what I want at all.”
He chuckled, and it was the sexiest sound. “I’m fucking crazy about you.”
I smiled as I looked up at the ceiling, thinking of him all the way in Switzerland and how many days until I saw him again. There were far too many.
“You have no idea …” I whispered.
“Sleep well, sweet girl.”
Fifteen
“Hi,” I said, answering Oliver’s call as I passed the pub a block from my dorm. “Are you about to pop out from an alley and scare the shit out of me?” I glanced behind me just to be sure.
He laughed. “Not this morning, but I’ll be back tomorrow night.”
I continued to walk toward my building, shoving my free hand into my pocket to keep warm. “I can’t wait.”
Every time he called, every time we exchanged texts—both happening several times a day—it made me miss him more.
“It’s going to be late,” he said. “How about I text you the code to the back door, and you can wait for me at my place? I’ll order you some food, and if you get tired, go to sleep, and I’ll wake you.”
I was a little blown away by his offer.
I tried to imagine what it would feel like to be there by myself, eating food he had delivered and then getting into his bed. I’d spread out over his big, comfy mattress with his extra-fluffy blanket, all of it smelling of leather and lust, and wait for him to return.
There was a feeling in my chest, almost like my lungs had frozen and the air was jump-starting them. And once they were filled, a burning sensation began to spread through me.
“That sounds perfect,” I replied, and I walked up the steps of my building. My hand was now slick inside my jacket, and I pulled it out to grab the handle of the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
“Yes, you will.”