Wyatt: Come on, sweetness. Don’t show me yours and then get all shy on me when I return the favor.
Wyatt: You got me all warmed up. Are you going to leave me hanging like this? [Photo attachment]
Heat floods my cheeks again. He’s grinning now, cocky and confident, and has a hand shoved down his pants. It’s blatant and enticingly illicit, sending my heart rate into overdrive. Most of his face is still cropped out to give me a show.
What am I supposed to do now?
He asked a question. So should I respond or do I send another photo? He upped the ante by snapping a pic with his hand on his junk.
I scan myself, debating the most attractive way to match him. Rompers aren’t exactly designed for easy access. I could go up the pant leg, I guess, or maybe dropping the straps off my shoulders, but then does it look like I’m too naked? I mean, yes, I would be tits out and everything, though I guess that’s kind of the point. It’s not like I have anything on under this.
The logistics twist my brain in circles for a few minutes.
I only planned as far as taking and sending the selfie. There was no strategy for what to do next if he answered.
My attention drifts back out the window where Connor Bishop’s bedroom light is dimmer, but still on at the house next door. I bet he does this sort of thing all the time with the amount of girls always falling over themselves to flirt with him. An image of him pops into my head from the first day of school, where a pretty girl from the dance squad sat on his lap all through lunch, blushing every time he whispered in her ear. Yeah, with those full lips tilted in a smug curve? He’s totally a pro at this stuff.
Maybe I should take a page from him to figure out how to be sexy while texting Wyatt.
A breathy laugh huffs from my lips while I drop my head back against the armchair. “Yeah right.”
I can’t match Connor for confidence, but W.W.S.F.G.D.? Because Secret Folder Girl—the version of myself I hide away on my phone’s camera roll? She’d totally have this situation on lock.
Somewhere deep down, that girl is me.
“I can do this.” Sucking in a breath, I nod.
This time it’s live instead of when I last tried to flirt with pictures, where I could gather my confidence and walk away when it became too much to email back. But that was years ago now. It wasn’t even—
Shaking my head, I push those dark memories aside. I can’t let what happened then cloud my thoughts every time I think about other guys. My throat is tight when I swallow. Will it always be like this, the secret I carry following me and tainting every romantic experience?
“No,” I say firmly, almost growling the denial.
Determined to get this right, I pop up from the chair and switch to the bed. I move my seal plushie out of the way, stuffing it behind the pillows so Wyatt won’t see it and tease me. I’m playing around with different positions, slipping one of the romper straps so it drapes off my shoulder without fully popping a nipple out when my phone pings.
Wyatt: Are you being a bad girl, getting off thinking about me if I was there with you? I’m waiting to see what else you’ve got. Don’t finish without me. Show me how you’re touching yourself.
Thea: I wasn’t!
Crap. I replied before I could think about whether or not it was protocol. Damn my lack of filter when I get going.
Wyatt: [smirk emoji] You weren’t? Are you a good girl, then? Waiting for me to tell you how to make it feel good?
God. Heat pulses between my legs. My thumbs hover over the keyboard for a moment as I gather the courage to reply.
Thea: What would you do if you were here?
Wyatt sends another picture, this one a close up of his parted lips with his tongue licking across the bottom one.
Wyatt: First I’d want to lick that hot little birthmark on your thigh. Anyone ever told you it looks like a sun? I love the taste of sunshine.
I glance at my leg. Huh. I guess so.
It’s not what I expected him to say and I tip my chin up, telling him as much.
Thea: Not a kiss on the lips?
The conversation goes quiet for a minute, then he sends a recorded voice clip. Just when I adjust to his pace, he changes it up on me. Holding my breath, I tap play.
“Oh, sunshine. You want me to kiss that sweet little mouth? Mm, I don’t know if you could handle it.” His deep, raspy chuckle makes my clit throb as his voice rolls over me. “If that’s what you want, I’d kiss you all over…starting with that fucking sexy birthmark.”
I’ve never heard him sound like this, so in charge and aware of exactly what effect his voice has on me. I’m more used to his kind smiles and enthusiastic laugh. There’s a rustle and a faint groan. Is he—? I think he is.
He’s totally stroking his dick while recording what he said.
It makes me warm all over, my skin electrified and sensitive to the ruffled material of my purple bedspread. My thighs squeeze together to get some relief from the sensual desire he stirs in me. I glance at the door to make sure it’s still locked. Having Mom walk in without knocking right now would suck.
Thea: Then what would you do?
Wyatt: I’d have to touch those tits next. Stroke them nice and light until your nipples are aching from how tight they pucker.
I’m a little disappointed I don’t get to hear these words in his voice, but what he says gets me hot anyway. Unconsciously, I’ve begun dragging my nails over the tops of my breasts, teasing the edge of the delicate lace lining the romper. My nipples demand attention, but I hold out, waiting to see what else he’d do.
Wyatt: Bet those nipples are pretty and pink. They hard for me, baby?
Thea: Yes. I need you to touch them.
Another photo comes through and I suck in a sharp breath. He pulled down his sweatpants just enough to reveal the base of his erection. His thumb and finger are curled around it. I lick my lips and shift around, debating grabbing a pillow to shove between my legs.
Thea: Would you kiss them next?
Wyatt: Yes. Pull down your top so I can suck on them. I’m going to bite them until you cry out.
Releasing a strained whimper, I peel off the thin straps and gasp when the air hits my bare skin. My nipples are pebbled, almost throbbing from how turned on I am. I palm my breast with one hand, pinching each nipple to simulate being bitten. My back arches and my clit aches with need. I almost drop the phone from my other hand.
Wyatt: Tell me how it feels.
A whine gets stuck in my throat while I fumble the phone, my typing getting sloppy as I keep rolling my tingling nipples beneath my palm to feel the tiny electric jolts it sends to my core. I wish he was here, laying next to me so I could smell him, feel his smile against my skin.
My stomach flips when he sends another recorded text.
“Fuck, baby. Can’t even type straight, huh? You’re so sexy.” His voice is a hoarse growl over the faint slap of skin. He’s jerking himself off harder. “Show me.”
My heart thuds as I rub my thighs together to alleviate the tight coil of tension he’s worked me into.
Thea: What?
His response is immediate.
Wyatt: Show me how I’m touching you, baby. I need to see you. Take a pic to prove you’re being good and doing what I’m saying.
I sink my teeth into my lip. Can I do that?
This all feels so good, way better than I’ve ever made myself feel when I’ve touched myself beneath the sheets in the dark. I don’t just mean physically, either. Talking to him was scary at first, but it’s getting easier once it’s clear he isn’t waiting to laugh at me.
It’s like he sees me, the real me from my secret folder.
My confidence rises and I take a picture of my tits squeezed between my arms, one hand pinching a nipple as my lips part on a gasp. The material of my romper bunches around my waist and the flush in my cheeks is visible.
After I send it, he replies with a recorded text that’s a long groan. It takes another minute for
him to respond.
Wyatt: Good girl. So good. Now, slide those fingers between those lips and suck them real good.
Thea: Like this? [Photo attachment]
My lips are wrapped around two fingers to the second knuckle, puckered and plump. The way I angled the photo, I left more of my bare tits in the frame than my face and the dirty result drives my confidence higher. I like how wanton I appear.
Wyatt: Holy fuck. Yes, like that. Fuck.
Thea: What next? Tell me how to make myself feel good for you.
Wyatt: Mm yeah, that’s good, baby. You’re killing me, you sexy as fuck little minx. Need those lips on my cock.
The mental image pulls another gasp from me. I push my fingers back into my mouth, imagining they’re bigger and take another photo for him. This time when he replies, I get a dick pic, seeing proof of the effect I have on him. It’s shiny, like he spit in his palm or keeps a bottle of lube handy. Pleasure coils deep in my chest because I did that to him, made him hard, made him masturbate to thoughts of being with me. I bite my lip around the shy smile curving my mouth.
Thea: So hot. You going to put it in me?
For a second, I squirm through a frisson of embarrassment. Is that good enough dirty talk? Should I have said cock or something?
The momentary worry disappears when his response comes through.
Wyatt: Fuck yes. So hard for you. Going to fuck your brains out, sweetness. Your fingers nice and wet? They’re my tongue. Touch your clit, nice long strokes so you know exactly how I’m tasting you.
My chest caves with my sharp breath. I follow his directions, wriggling out of my romper and kicking the soft material from my ankles. I lay there for a moment, feeling the cool air of my bedroom on my nude body. The throbbing between my thighs is so heady that I don’t think I’ll last long once I start rubbing my clit. I’m ready to burst from the oversensitivity he’s caused with our sexting.
Dragging my fingertips down my belly and stroking my mound, I let every sensation wash over me. My head tips back when I slide my fingers between my legs and do as Wyatt said, imagining his tongue licking my pussy. Shit, it feels amazing.
I spread my legs wider, getting into it. I’ve never done it like this, above my covers, the lights on, with total abandon. The world could explode around me, but my focus would only be on my body, on the pleasure I feel touching myself while pretending it’s him.
Growing bolder, I bring my phone close and hold down the record audio button, capturing the breathy moans as I rub my clit.
“Wyatt,” I whimper. “Feels so good. I’m close.”
My thumb slips off the button and I pause long enough to send it before refocusing on what my body demands. The pleasure crests higher. My hips rock as I seek out my orgasm.
Wyatt hasn’t said anything for a few minutes, but my brain is so clouded with the fog of touching myself that it takes me a while to notice. Maybe he was close and feels the same as I do, needing to reach oblivion.
The phone pings again, so I could be wrong. Who cares, as long as I keep feeling like this. I press harder, rubbing my fingers in a tight circle over my sensitive clit.
Wyatt: I want more of those sinful sounds you’re making. Show me how good it feels, baby. Is your sweet pussy wet for me?
I don’t know if it’s because I’m so close to coming that I could be convinced of anything, or that I’m flying high on the way this has all unfolded, but I don’t feel any shame or nerves anymore. Raising the phone with a wicked little grin, I get a good angle from above of my fingers dipped between my legs, knees drawn together. Just as I fire it off, the hot coil in my core intensifies.
“Ah!”
I drop my head back into the pillows while I stroke my fingers over my folds to gather some of the slickness coating my labia and thighs, gliding my fingers back over my clit. The waves crash over me, the intensity of the orgasm making me clench on the emptiness I wish were full of Wyatt’s dick right now as I tremble. It feels incredible, definitely the best orgasm I’ve ever experienced.
Elation spirals through me, mingling with the aftershocks of pleasure skating over my skin, and I smile at the ceiling, stretching my arms overhead.
The abandoned phone buzzes on the bedspread with a new message. I roll onto my side and rub my thighs together lazily as I reach for it, enjoying the lasting effects of sensitivity and how wet I feel.
I nearly drop the phone with a surprised yelp. Wyatt upped the ante again with a Boomerang. The animated image plays when I open it and my mouth drops open as it repeats. Oh my god. I watch it four times, fascinated and turned on.
In the Boomerang clip he fists his cock with fast strokes and at the last couple of seconds before it starts over, come spills over his fingers.
Wyatt: Thanks babe [wink emoji]
I debate what to say next. Is there something universal that says thanks for the orgasm via text message? And can we set up a time to do it again?
Boldly, I lounge naked instead of getting up to get dressed as fast as possible. The confidence lingers. I roll onto my back and cross one leg over the other, hoping he’ll say something first since he seems to be well-versed in this sort of thing.
My face lights up when he does reply shortly after the last of the afterglow fades.
Wyatt: Let me see how you look after you’ve come.
After everything we did tonight, this one feels easy now. I fluff my hair and recline against my pillows, tilting my face for a cute picture. There’s a glow of life in my flushed cheeks and my sparkling eyes. It’s one of the very rare times I like how I look in a photo on the first take.
Thea: Goodnight [heart emoji] [Photo attachment]
“Thea!”
A knock at my door makes my heart skip about eighty beats. My life force threatens to leave my body. I can feel the pull for it to float out of my mouth and drift through my ceiling. Poetic that I’d die young, sated, and totally freaking naked.
Mom jiggles the handle and knocks again. “Why is your door locked?”
“One sec, Mom! I’m changing for bed.”
I shove my phone under my pillow and kick my romper under the bed. After hurrying into a pair of pink flannel sleep pants and a loose t-shirt sitting on my hamper, I check the mirror and hope she can’t tell.
Unlocking the door, I peek through the crack. “Did you need anything?”
“Just wanted to make sure you remembered to study for your math test.”
Mom crosses her arms, scrutinizing me in that silent motherly way that feels as if she’s eating me alive. I shift on my feet, keeping my expression blank by sheer force of will. Project calmness and she won’t demand to come inspect the room. Her gaze flicks over my shoulder, peering into what little I allow her to see of my room with me blocking the door.
“Of course I studied for it. I’m all done for the night,” I assure her. Crap, is my voice still a little breathy? I clear my throat. “Anyway, goodnight.”
I give her a kiss on the cheek and scurry back into my room, diving beneath the covers. A giggle bubbles up in my chest and I hide it in my stuffed sea lion when I fish him out.
Tonight was amazing.
Four
Connor
I’m either still lightheaded from smoking weed and jerking off, or going batshit fucking crazy because the photo my hot little mystery texter sent looks way too familiar. She’s leaning back against a pile of purple pillows that are frilly, or some other girly shit, with auburn curls spilling around her beautiful face. The look she’s giving me is…fuck, it makes me want to get off with her again.
Something about her prods at me as I languor in my post-orgasm haze with one arm tucked behind my head, feeling really damn good.
“Wait.”
I sit the fuck up, dick still out and everything. Because I do know those blue-green doe eyes. Normally they’re sweeping over me with sharp sparks of scorn when I tease her about the frumpy ass sweaters she wraps herself in. Not just scorn, but judgment, just like her nos
y bitch of a mother.
“Well, shit.” I drag the word out, followed by a short laugh of disbelief as I stare at the girl I’ve only ever known as my nerdy neighbor, Thea Kennedy.
A shy girl at school I love to torment just to watch her blush.
The same sexy as fuck little minx I just had an awesome sext jerk off session with.
I trace a finger over my lips and glance at my window. Her bedroom faces mine. I’ve caught her peeking once or twice while I changed, thinking those sheer curtains hide her. Might’ve even put on a bit of a show for her once I knew she liked to watch. Blinds are for pussies.
Who knew under those lumpy, shapeless sweaters in every color of the rainbow, she hides a body like that, with those luscious, seductive curves? It really is the quiet ones that are the biggest surprise.
I scroll back through our messages to admire the nudes and smirk. Her voice recording is still there, because she’s a naïve thing that doesn’t have them set to expire after listening. How cute. Between the photos and the recording, I could have an entire field day blackmailing her to do whatever I wanted.
The way she responded to me, obeyed me, makes it a strong temptation. My best friend Devlin would probably do it in a heartbeat, but he’s a dark and twisted fucker. I maintain a rep that I could implode lives on a whim, when really I prefer to have a reason to destroy someone with the dirt I keep on people.
Ruthless Bishop: Dark New Adult High School Bully Romance (Sinners and Saints Book 3) Page 3