MELANIE: You should warn me before you text things like that. Jessica tried to steal the phone when she saw me blushing.

ME: You at home?

MELANIE: Yup. Working on a paper

ME: Go to your room

Would she take the bait? Long seconds passed. Nothing. The phone buzzed again.

MELANIE: I’m on my bed . . .

ME: What are you wearing?

MELANIE: Are you sexting me?

ME: Do you want me to?

MELANIE: I want everything

And suddenly those borrowed jeans weren’t fitting so well after all. I reached down, unbuttoning my fly.

MELANIE: I’m wearing a pair of boy-cut panties with lace insets at the side. Baby blue.

ME: What else?

Please say nothing, please say nothing . . .

MELANIE: That’s too easy ;) You first.

I looked down at my borrowed clothes, considering how to answer. Telling her that all I had on were castoffs because my own clothes were covered in a dead man’s blood seemed less than romantic.

ME: Jeans and a shirt. Not gonna lie—I opened my fly when you said you wanted everything.

MELANIE: Are you hard?

If I hadn’t been before, I sure as shit was now.

ME: Every time I talk to you.

MELANIE: Aren’t you just romantic?

ME: So what else are you wearing?

MELANIE: Whats it worth to you?

ME: Dinner at my place when I get back—I make truly excellent ramen

MELANIE: How about dinner at your place but I cook? I make excellent foods that aren’t ramen

ME: Deal. Now tell me what you’re wearing

MELANIE: Nothing . . . and my nipples are hard. I was rolling one of them between my fingers but then I had to stop. Texting you one handed is tough

Oh Jesus. The blood was rushing downward, taking my ability to think with it.

ME: Woulnd’ tmind a picture of tha

Fuck. I’d lost the ability to type, too, and not even autocorrect could save me. This girl was dangerous. Reaching inside my briefs, I caught my cock, giving it a rough squeeze. If I closed my eyes I could almost imagine it was her hand instead of mine. I would never—for the rest of my life—forget the instant her tongue touched me the first time. She’d been so hesitant, so careful . . . Turned me on and drove me crazy, because it wasn’t enough. I’d had to teach her how to do it harder.

My girl was a damned fast learner, too.

MELANIE: I don’t send pics to strange men.

Goddamn it. She was right, of course. Stupid to send pictures, especially to a known asshole like myself.

ME: Guess I’ll just have to use my imagination. I know a way you won’t have to stop touching yourself to talk to me . . . call?

That was it. I waited for a minute, then another, imagining Mel playing with her nipples . . . fingering her pussy . . . Now there was a pretty picture. I hooked my thumb under the waistband of my briefs, lifting my hips so I could push them down. Then I grabbed my cock again, jacking it slowly as I waited for her to respond.

The phone rang.

“Hey you,” I said, my voice hoarse. “Please tell me you’re still naked?”

Melanie giggled. “Well, I’m not totally naked—still have my panties on. I feel kind of silly doing this.”

“Don’t,” I told her, dead serious. “This is right up there near the top on my Dirty Fantasies About Melanie List.”

“You have a fantasy list about me?” she asked, her voice catching. Shit, did she think I was a perv? Probably. Made sense that she would, because I definitely qualified.

“While I was in prison,” I admitted. “Thought about you all the time. Been thinkin’ about you from the first day we met, although I tried to keep it under control. Then they locked me up and you started writing. Once you sent me a picture, I was fucked. Decided I’d best roll with it at that point.”

“So what sorts of things did you fantasize about?” she asked, her voice lower. Huskier. My fingers slowed, sliding upward to catch the sensitive skin right below my dick’s head. Shit, that was good. Her tongue would be even better.

“Long list,” I told her, sinking back into the pillow. “Used to think a lot about your mouth.”

“Really? And what was I doing with my mouth?”

“Let’s just say I enjoyed the blow job,” I replied, opting not to share that the full fantasy involved fucking her face with her pigtails as handles. See? I’m not a total tool.

“Well it seemed like a good idea at the time. Friday was incredible, by the way. Just thinking about it makes me so . . .” She giggled. “Okay, talking like this feels weird—like I’m in a bad porno.”

“Melanie, believe me when I say it’s a very, very high-quality pornographic production,” I replied, catching my pre-come with my fingers to use as lube. “I like it so much I’ve got my dick out and I’m jacking off while you talk. Not sure how long I’ll last here, but probably not more than a few more minutes, so please finish that fucking sentence.”

“Okay,” she said, and I heard the smile in her voice. “Just thinking about it makes me so wet.”

I bit back a groan.

“How do you know you’re wet?” I asked, barely more than a whisper.

“Because I’m touching myself,” she said. “I started with my clit, then started to move lower. Now I’m going back and forth between my clit and my . . .”

Her voice trailed off as burning, twisting need tore through me. The hand on my cock moved faster.

“Jesus, I want back inside you,” I admitted. “You got the tightest pussy I’ve ever felt, Mel. Never been with another girl who felt half as good.”

“You’re not too bad yourself,” she whispered, her voice starting to sound strained. “I used to think about you, too. Before, I mean. I used to lay in my bed and read your letters, and then I’d do exactly what I’m doing right now—touch myself.”

My hips arched up. Oh shit. Close now. Just had to hold on to the fantasy that it was her fingers doing the work, and not mine.

“Did you make yourself come—when you were thinking about me, I mean?”

She didn’t answer for a minute, but I heard a little gasp.

“Yes,” she said, her voice rough. “I’d touch myself and come so hard, thinking about you. Imagining what you’d feel like inside me . . . What it would feel like if you took me from behind. Whether you’d tie me up. Oh my God, I can’t believe I just said that.”

Fucking hell. Mel had a kinky side. I must’ve done something absolutely incredible in a past life to deserve this, because I sure as shit hadn’t earned it in this one.

“I could do that,” I said, my voice husky. “And a hell of a lot more.”

“Oh,” she said, her voice breathless and uncertain. “Painter?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you like, into bondage? Because I know I said I’ve thought about you tying me up, but I’m not really—”

I burst out laughing. She went silent and then I realized she was probably embarrassed. Shit. Needed to be more careful.

“Mellie, I’m into you,” I told her. “We can play whatever games you want, but that whole formal bondage thing isn’t my kink. There’s a lot of territory between having fun tying a girl up and whipping her to get off. We’ll do whatever you want, and I guarantee that so long as you’re naked, I’ll be happy.”

“That sounds good,” she said, still breathless. “Just so you know, if you were here I’d be licking the underside of your cock right now. You know that little notch? I didn’t get to explore it as much as I’d like yesterday morning . . . and I’ve never tried deep-throating a guy before, but I wouldn’t mind giving it a shot with you.”

Better.

Than.

Christmas.

“Are you still fingering yourself?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “And I’m getting closer. It feels like I’m all heavy down there, like there’s a string inside me spooling up between my legs . . . pulled tight . . . it hurts but it feels so good and I really, really don’t want it to stop.”