Then again... the emoji. Isn’t that some type of code? A message in and of itself, perhaps?
Lettie’s not one for overdoing emojis. In the past, she’s joked that only people in their thirties and older use them. Each time she’s used them with me, there’s been a specific reason.
Come on, Google. Don’t let me down.
My thumbs hover over my screen. What the fuck do I search? Deciding to start simple, I type, “What does a winking face emoji mean?” into the search engine.
That was easy. Don’t even have to click a link for the explanation. It’s right there on the search results screen. And yep; the answer is just as suspected.
Flirting. Hidden meaning.
Well fuck. She wants me to watch her. I think. Maybe. Probably.
Since I decided I want to be a man worthy of her, I’ve done well to resist crossing any lines. But is it crossing a line if she wants me to watch?
I can’t call her to verify. She won’t answer because phone call. Besides, that takes away some of the fun in this flirty game we’ve started playing. Lettie’s been hellbent on reclaiming her sexuality and her body. Taking control. This must be another way she’s doing it.
Too bad there’s no one I can ask to check my interpretation. It’s not like I can call one of the guys. How would that chat go?
Yeah, so I’ve been doing lots of spying on my girlfriend. No big deal. Technically, she’s my ex-girlfriend, but I think she wants me to fight for her, and I’m doing exactly that. Here’s the thing. I suspect she’s asking me to spy on her again. It’s likely because we both have voyeurism and exhibitionism kinks. Previously, she asked me if I’ve been watching her and pressed me for tons of details about how I access cameras and shit like that. Here’s a screenshot of the text she just sent. Does this winking face emoji make it okay? That’s a solid invitation to watch her shower, right?
For a minute, I let my mind craft their responses.
Shep would probably be on board, saying something like, “She’s daring you to do it. Take the bait. You won’t be sorry. Best way to handle a brat is to call her bluff.”
Leo would be the voice of reason. “Treat a woman with respect. Always. If you want her, you should woo her. Send her some flowers and chocolate. And the next chance you get, put her up on the counter and bury your face between her thighs until she pulls strands of hair out of your head. Then do it again.”
Klein would inevitably go through an emotional crisis while trying to figure out how to respond. “Invading someone’s privacy is not the way to a long, happy life together. Do you think my father would have ever done such a deplorable thing?” He’d pause to scratch his head or chin. “Then again, Frank Sinatra said it best when he said, ‘You only go around once, but if you play your cards right, once is enough.’ Do what you feel, man.”
Sawyer would probably do a Matthew McConaughey greatest hits medley, starting with the classic, “Alright, alright, alright.” Then he’d pull out some thinker like from the HBO detective show. “The world needs bad men. We keep the other bad men from the door.” That wouldn’t be any help, so he’d end with a quote from Magic Mike. “The law says you cannot touch. But I think I see a lot of lawbreakers up in this house tonight.”
According to my mental gymnastics, three out of four of my Redleg brothers suggest I go for it. Majority rules.
After grabbing my laptop, I settle onto the bed. No phone. No tablet. I want the full screen for whatever is about to happen.
Before I access her phone’s camera, I promise myself that the way she positions her phone will tell me if she really wants this. Facing the ceiling? Nope. Propped up to give me a good view? It’s on.
Two clicks later, and it’s motherfucking on.
While I don’t know the layout of the facility’s bedrooms and bathrooms, I’d wager a guess that the phone is resting on a towel rack. Upright. Aimed directly at the shower, which is only three feet away max. Country music fills the room over the sound of running water. I crank up the volume.
Tomorrow, I’ll send a thank you note to whomever designed the bathrooms with shower doors instead of curtains. Despite the steam from the shower and water splatter on the glass, I have a beautiful view of her luscious body.
I’m instantly rock hard.
Yet I refuse to touch my cock this soon.
The song changes, and she starts swaying her hips to the sultry rhythm. This one has some blues undertones to it. Don’t know it, but I’m already a big fan.
And fuck me running. She’s singing along while her hands roam over her entire body. Cupping her breasts. Caressing her slippery hips. Delving between her legs.
She’s trying to kill me. And I happily hand her the blade and offer my throat.
I only pick up a few lyrics from the song. Something about a radiator, steam, and flame in your touch.
Whatever it is, it’s my new favorite song.
Grabbing my phone, I ask the AI assistant to identify the song. I need to know so I can play it on repeat when we’re done tonight.