Page 53 of Wild Stars

Not hard enough, I’m afraid.His emojis of winks and tongues sticking out, combined with his words make me blush, and my cock twitches.

Little shit.

I text him back an eye roll emoji.

Dare only texts me a bunch of alien faces and eggplant and peach emojis with a You’re just jealous.

Yeah, he’s most definitely flirting.

I might not be up on all the emoji definitions, but I’m pretty sure eggplants and peaches are the very definition of flirting.Or is it...sexting?

I stare at the light of my screen, thinking about his words, about the other night when I watched the blond man trail his hands all over Dare’s hips and thighs.

I want to say yes.That I am jealous, though I don’t knowwhy.Why the thought of anyone else’s hands on his body makes my blood heat, why the thought of anyoneprobinghis fine ass makes my jaw tense.

I close my eyes for a minute, if only to dispel the sudden rush of anger and anxiety that his words bring.

My cock throbs as I try to imagine anything but the thought of him being probed.

By my fingers, my tongue, my cock.

I groan in defeat as I sink my face into my pillow.My phone chimes, and I realize I’ve left him on read.

Did you fall asleep already or did the aliens get you, too?

I lick my lips as I respond.

Go to sleep, Dare.

I wait with bated breath for his bratty response, or perhaps, another thinly veiled innuendo about dicks.

But Dare does no such thing.He only sends aYes, sir.

My jaw tenses and my cock throbs as I imagine those words escaping his lips, knowing how they sound.

Yes, sir.

I set my alarm, setting the phone on the nightstand, but I know it’s no use.

Dare does not respond again, but his presence lingers in this space, in my brain.

There will be no sleeping unless I can cleanse him from my soul.

I let my hand travel down my abdomen, noting the hardness of my muscles beneath my touch.

My cock strains against my briefs, and I shimmy out of them with ease.

The velvet-like covers against my sensitive cockhead feel good, despite the guilt forming in my brain.

I know Ishouldn’tthink about Dare, especially not like this.

But I can’t help myself, not when I know the things I do.

What his hair feels like in my grasp, tight and smooth.

What his hand wrapped around my wrist feels like, warm and soft.

God, I can only imagine what it would feel like wrapped around my cock, squeezing me, stroking me.