Page 107 of The Coach

Me: I’m so turned on I can’t think straight.

His reply comes instantly.

Jackson: Are you touching yourself?

A shiver runs down my spine.

Ivy: No

Jackson: You should

I don’t even know what I’m about to say.

But he beats me to it.

Jackson: Tell me how bad you want it, Ivy. Tell me how bad you want this.

I suck in a sharp breath, my fingers clenching around my phone.

My body reacts instantly.

Heat pooling low. Skin practically tingling.

I stare at the photo.

Jackson’s sweatpants hang low, his thick cock pressing against the fabric, the deep, sharp V of his abs leading down to a happy trail.

He’s so hard.

For me.

My thighs press together tighter.

Me: Holy shit.

A bubble pops up. He’s typing.

Jackson: That for you, baby.

I let out a quiet whimper, my fingers shaking.

Me: I want it so bad, Jackson.

A pause. Then my phone vibrates again.

Jackson: Then be a good girl and do what I said.

Desire climbs up my spine.

Me: You first.

I can almost picture his grin.

Jackson: Oh, you wanna see me stroke my cock for you, baby?

Jesus. Christ.

I squeeze my legs together, every inch of me aching.

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