Page 23 of Sexting the Tattooed Outlaw
“Do you know if Sam came home last night?” she asks. “I’m worried he took off again.”
A pang of guilt hits me. I guess Kay isn’t the only person who feels like I’m a flight risk, thanks to my history.
Well, I’m not fucking going anywhere. Last night sealed the deal. Kay told me she loves me. And then she let me inside of her.
It’s over. It’s done. She belongs to me now, the deal is sealed. Maybe it’ll take a while to earn Kay’s trust, but I’m willing to put in the time. She’ll be my wife, the mother of my children. My next objective: buying a ring. Whatever ring she fucking wants, I’ll drain my life savings to buy her a rock she’ll wear on her finger. Something to show every man who gazes in her direction that she’s spoken for.
Kay Wallace. Mrs. Wallace. I like the fucking sound of that.
“He, uh,” Kay hesitates. “He told me he was going into town in the morning.”
“Oh? But his truck is still here.”
“Shit,” Kay mutters. I grin.
“Um, I think someone picked him up,” Kay lies through the door. Tomato red ears. Tomato red cheeks. So fucking cute.
I get out of bed, pulling her to my chest and kissing the top of her hair.
“Oh,” Ella says, sounding unconvinced. “Well, alright then. Are you okay? Not feeling well?”
“Just tired,” Kay lies.
“Alright…well, I’ll get the coffee started. Want me to bring some up to you when it’s done?”
I drop to my knees, pulling her shirt up and groping her breasts.
“No!” Kay gasps. “I…need to go to work today. Anna called in sick. I’ll have coffee when I get there.”
“Okay, then,” Ella replies.
She walks away. I wait for the sound of footsteps to fade. Picking Kay off the ground, I carry her to the bed and throw her onto the mattress.
“I really do need to go to work,” she says.
“Then I’ll be quick,” I promise. “Quick but thorough, ma’am.”
I’m about to take one of her perfect tits into my mouth when her phone chimes. She hops up, checking the screen.
“It might be work. Oh…nevermind. It’s Boyfriend Bot.”
She rolls her eyes but my ears perk up at the wordboyfriend.
“What?”
“It’s stupid,” she says, opening her phone. “Nadia signed me up for this bot that texts you like a fake boyfriend. Believe me, it wasn’t my idea. Last night I was texting it before you came to my room and…”
She frowns at her screen.
“Weird,” she murmurs, tapping on the screen. “Now there are two of them.”
“Two what?”
“Two bots,” she says. “The one I was talking to last night, and now this one.”
“And here I thought I was special,” I joke. “You were talking to meandtwo bots last night?”
“What?” her eyes flash to mine, but they lack the humor mine do.
