Page 21 of The Devils They Are

Unknown:Open your photo gallery.

What the fudge?

I have a suspicion I know who this is, so I quickly crosscheck with my call log. Yep—thatnumber.

Ignoring the message, I hit dial instead, listening as it goes straight to voicemail. There’s no way he turned off his cell that quickly. It has to be DND mode.

Curiosity gets the better of me and I open up the gallery to see what I have to deal with. A squeak rips out of me as I drop my cell in disgust.

WHY IS THERE A PICTURE OF AN ASS ON MY SCREEN?!

That son of a bitch. It was already bad enough that he tore up my stuff and stole my number, but to taint my camera with pearly white globes? Hell. No.

Huffing, I go back to my inbox and punch out a reply.

Bexley:You're disgusting.

I really shouldn't waste energy responding, but I'm so mad at his sheer audacity.

It only takes a few seconds before his reply comes back.

Unknown:Come say it to my face, Bexley. I'll even meet you on your turf.

The nerve of him. Do these guys have a sensor on them that every time I want to get off, they have to interrupt?

Bexley:Hard pass.

While I wait for him to respond—because I know he will—I save his number to my contacts. When his next message comes through, I have a little giggle to myself.

Ball-less Paper Fucker:Suit yourself.

I take a screen shot, sending it through to show off his new title. Within seconds, there’s a reply–a retaliation screenshot, with the wordsPeach Queenfollowed by the associated fruity emoji plastered as my contact name.

Peach Queen:Come say it to MY face tomorrow, Tai. I owe you a date with the stapler.

Ball-less Paper Fucker:So, you wanna touch my balls, Peachie?

Peach Queen:Go fuck yourself.

Ball-less Paper Fucker:Already did, actually. You should try it. Might loosen up that attitude of yours. Feel free to use my peach as inspiration.

Peach Queen:Trust me. No one is using THAT as inspiration.

Ball-less Paper Fucker:If you say so.

Peach Queen:I’m blocking you now.

Grumbling and cursing, I block the number and close my cell screen, slapping the device onto the blanket. To be fair, it’s not the worst ass I have seen. Tai is all muscle and dammit it’s reflected in his glutes.

And there goes my libido, fighting for its life. Muscles are a weakness for me, but thankfully, my brain comes to its senses, fighting off the need to orgasm.

Lady boner deflating… and gone.

Sorry Steele. No snu-snu for you either now.

Mom walks past my bedroom on her way back from the shower, calling out an early goodnight, and I decide to follow suit. Shower, music, doom scrolling then sleep… that’s all I need.

Not an orgasm.

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