Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56885 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56885 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
“Has something happened? You seem different.”
“Yes, something happened. You’re in a restaurant with a man who isn’t me. It makes me want to show you how badly you belong to me.”
“I don’t belong to you.”
“Keep telling yourself that…”
Is he serious? Is he actually doing this?
I try to look normal as he glides his hand up my leg under the table. The restaurant is busy with servers walking back and forth. We’re in a booth. Nobody can see us. But when his hand strokes against my sex through my pants, I know it’s wrong.
I know I should make it stop. I bite my lip as he strokes my sex through the material, my clit aching, my lips tingling.
“Luh-Logan,” I whisper. “You can’t.”
“Say that like you mean it.”
“Logan.” I gasp.
“You need me as badly as I need you,” he growls.
This is so wrong, yet it feels so right. He strokes his hand against my crotch, my underwear feeling sticky and wet, my body aching like I’ve been waiting for this ever since we exchanged our first text.
I close my legs around his hand, but that doesn’t stop his tempting motion as he grinds up and down. I’m not being dramatic when I feel that my vision begins to get hazy. Or maybe I am. Maybe everything with us is destined to be thrilling.
“Logan,” I hiss. “Milo’s coming back. Stop. Now.”
My tone is enough to make Logan withdraw his hand. He makes a husky noise that tells me how difficult it is for him. He wants to keep going as badly as I want him to. We’re both trapped in a cycle of lust and romance and connection and guilt—or maybe trapped absolves us of too much responsibility.
“Sorry that took longer than expected,” Milo says. “I had to take a call.”
“From your husband?” I ask.
I almost burst out laughing when Logan’s eyes shoot up in comic-book fashion. I aim a knowing look at him, and he smiles ruefully.
“Yes, as a matter of fact,” Milo says warmly. “Anyway, where were we?”
“I want us to capture the connection in the digital age,” Logan says. “I won’t pretend to be an expert on the copy. That’s your domain. But with texting and communicating via cell phones, I think it’s gotten a bad rap. I believe there is such a thing as true connection through devices.”
A shiver runs down my spine as though he’s trailing his finger down me.
“I agree,” I murmur after a pause. “I’d even go so far as to say that texting has some distinct benefits over talking in person.”
“How so?” Milo asks, looking at me and then Logan, listening attentively.
“There are things you can’t say in person,” I say.
“And there’s the fact that some men are just downright wild,” Logan mutters, looking at me with intense eyes that turn me into a freaking time traveler… Suddenly, it’s a minute ago, and his hand is on my sex again. “They get carried away in person. They can’t help themselves. Some men need the distance of texting to be emotional.”
“And for women, maybe there are things they find difficult to discuss,” I go on. “Like, I don’t know, their sexual experience, or lack of experience, or whatever. So, they need the barrier that texting provides. Perhaps we could even hint at this in the copy…”
“Go on,” Logan says, looking at me with unhidden interest.
“We could be playful with it. When initiating the first video call, we could ask, Are you sure you want to leave the cozy comfort of texting behind for now? Or maybe we could hint that they can always return. We need to speak to people, the texting generation, on their level. When sharing videos, audio, or watching movies together, they should be able to type messages seamlessly, without interrupting the experience.”
“Almost like they’re there together,” Logan says.
“But without the, you know…”
“The pressure?” Logan offers. When I nod, he says, “Is that what it feels like, Har…” He stops himself before using my nickname. “For some women, pressure?”
“Maybe, but not pressure in a bad way. It's not like the guy is forcing them to do anything. It's more like they’re feeling the pressure from the inside. Like, if they’re in person with the guy for a second longer, they won’t be able to take it anymore.”
My voice is wild with passion, but I can’t seem to make it stop.
“You two have it all figured out,” Milo says, smiling. “I’ve got to say, Mr. Wolfe, I’ve never seen you work so… synergistically with an employee before.”
He’s right. We do synergize. We share a spark and make something together we could never make alone, which doesn’t just relate to work.
“I think we’ve made some excellent progress,” Milo says, then takes out his phone. “Would you think I’m terribly rude if I left to be with my suddenly needy husband?”