Page 50 of Counting On You

I nod, and for a moment we just stare at each other in silent agreement. His expression is softer now, fearful even. I can’t blame him. Being in rehab, cut off from the world, a phone is that one thing that can save lives. It sure does mine. Every day that passes, I feel like I’m dying without it. It’s not just about Bruce. I also miss my family.

I need to be in touch with the outside world to stop feeling as though I’m slowly losing my mind.

“Being discreet about it goes without saying,” I say. “In fact, I’ve absolutely no intention of leaving this room while using it.”

“Good.” He gestures at the phone and gets up. “It’s unlocked. And so you know, I cleaned it.”

I look up only to see he’s almost at the door, his hand on the handle.

“Kade?”

“Yeah, Stalker?”

“Thank you.”

He shoots me a devilish grin that’s so handsome I almost forget what I’m about to do. “Don’t thank me yet, Viking. You still owe me dinner.” He presses the handle, calling over his shoulder, “By the way, don’t let the photos bother you.”

“What photos?” I ask, but he’s already gone, the door closing behind him.

Sighing, I let myself sink against the pillows as anticipation courses through me. I can feel it coursing through my body from my feet to my fingertips. It’s thick and prickling like a warm spring fountain. One hour…it’s not a lot, but those sixty minutes will grant me enough time to check up on all the people who matter to me.

I’m giddy with excitement at the prospect of finding out what Bruce is doing.

If he’s replied to my emails.

Maybe he’s even talked to his mother and changed her mind about us.

My fingers swipe over the screen a couple times until a text conversation pops up. It’s from last year, but its content is not what’s causing my breath to catch in my throat.

My eyes remain glued to a photo.

It’s a picture of a dick.

It’s huge and thick. And so very familiar.

Oh, wait, is that Kade’s cock?

I stare at the pic, ignoring the short conversation with a woman, and then scroll down to another picture. This one is of her breasts pushed up so high I wouldn’t be surprised to find she could rest her chin on them.

“Gross,” I mutter and scroll back to his dick.

This is like a train wreck. You know you shouldn’t be staring, and yet you can’t peel your gaze away from it.

The familiar heat from before returns, pooling between my legs, making me wonder how it would feel inside me.

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