It doesn’t help that I’m still horribly turned on from last night, because even with the “self-release” after he left, I wasn’t satisfied. It wasn’t what I needed.
Because it wasn’t enough.
“It was good but not great.”
Yeah, well same, ass. And then there was the temptation to just do it, the temptation to just throw everything rational out the door. All those things I try to tell myself when he’s not around are starting to lose their weight.The temptation to yank him into my bed and and let ourselves fall is real, but it can't happen.
I tell myself that a few more times just to make sure it takes.
Later, my mother’s words must have sunk in, because I’m grumbling as I head down to the dining room to have a real meal instead of having something sent up. Which, of course, entails putting on something besides pajama pants and being a real person, but the growling of my stomach is a good motivator.
“Oh, Madison!” I look up from my sandwich made to order later to see Emma smiling at me as she breezes into the dining room. “I was just coming up to knock on your door!”
She holds something small and black up in her hand and waves it before placing it in front of me. I frown at the silver and black phone before I glance up at her questioningly. “What’s this for?”
“It was Hunter’s idea, actually,” she says with her ever-present smile. “It’s a private scrambled phone sort of like the ones the Service uses on duty, to avoid anything like the museum, uh, thing the other day.
I glance quickly from the phone up to her face. No, she doesn’t know. She couldn’t.
“Um, thanks, Emma.”
“It’s for Hunter and me only, so it’s just for emergencies.” She shrugs, almost apologetically. “Or, you know, if you just need something.” She opens her mouth to say something and then closes it, before she takes a breath and looks back at me. “Look, Madison, I know you hate that you’re cooped up here, but if you ever want to talk or need anything at all,” she laughs conspiratorially. “Besides scheduling, I’m here to help, you know.”
A smile creeps across my face. “Thanks, Emma.”
“Any time.”
Got your phone…for emergencies, huh?
I roll my eyes at the new phone as I send the message to Hunter’s pre-programmed-in private number. The response comes a moment later.
Yep, for when you just need me.
I grin as I type a response.
For protection, of course.
Oh, naturally…or if you need me to finish what we started the other night.
I blush as I smile like an idiot at the text before I bite my lip and fire off a response.
Oh, I don’t need your help anymore. I finished just fine without you.
Hunter’s response comes almost instantly.
I’m going to need details on that.
Oh, I think you know.
So you’re saying you finished.
I might be saying that, but that would be extremely un-presidential of me.
Hunter’s reply hits like a delicious shiver up my back.
Were you or were you not playing with your pussy.
His words are so crude, and yet I find myself blushing at how much they turn me on. I quickly put the phone face down on the side table next to my bed as I take a breath.
I need to stop this, right now. I need to put this temptation of a phone down and go for a run, or anything else to get Hunter and this wicked suggestions out of my head. But of course instead, I grin as pick the phone back up.
Use your imagination.
Oh, I am.
Oh, should I use mine as well?
Jesus, what the hell am I doing? This is playing with fire, and I know it. This is beyond flirting with temptation, but I already know I’m way past stopping.
I can help with that imagination.
I’ve barely registered his message before the phone buzzes again in my hand at the arrival of a picture.
A picture of the bulge in his pants.
My pulse skips a little at the illicitness of continuing this wholly inappropriate flirtation. I grin as I hammer out my reply.
Didn’t realize you had photoshop on your phone. Nice editing.