Page 40 of Shut Up and Score
I sink down onto the bed, towel slung low on my hips, water still dripping from my hair, and read the message.
GoldenSpiral23: I’d drop to my knees before the door even shut. Press my mouth to your skin like I’ve been starved for it. I’d make you forget every name but mine.
A quiet, disbelieving laugh slips out of me—half arousal, half awe.
Because fuck.
This guy? He gets it.
Not the shy profile, not the hesitant flirting from before. That was sweet. Flushed cheeks and imagined stuttered words. This? This is a goddamn detonation. No warning. No shame. Just…pure fucking lust.
And yeah, maybe I needed that today.
Maybe after watching Colton put on a performance for the girl he’s supposed to love, I needed to feel like someone would fall to their knees just to worship me.
I type without thinking:
Me: Jesus. You say things like that and expect me to think straight?
I hit send and keep going.
Me: You’ve got me hard with three lines and no punctuation. Say more.
Tell me what you’d do to me if I let you.
My free hand rests on my thigh, fingers inching upward.
He’s not Colton,I remind myself again.Not Colton.But my body doesn’t care. My brain doesn’t listen.
Because, when I close my eyes, it’s not some faceless stranger I picture on his knees. It’s not the guy texting me right now, the one sending shirtless selfies and promises he’ll make me forget.
It’shim. Golden skin. Blond hair messy from practice. That perfect fucking jawline clenched with need. Eyes dark, wide,broken—but still pretending he doesn’t want this. Doesn’t wantme.
I drag my hand higher, breath catching in my throat, and bite down a groan that threatens to spill out.
I shouldn’t be doing this. Shouldn’t be thinking about him. Not after everything. Not after what hedid.
But I can’t stop.
The typing bubble appears almost instantly.
God, he’s just as eager.
My hand presses harder against the growing bulge beneath my towel, hips shifting like they already know where this is going.
The message comes through.
GoldenSpiral23: I’d push you back on the bed. Mouth on your chest. Tongue tracing every inch of you while your hands twist in my hair. I’d take my time. Make you beg.
I suck in a breath. My towel’s already loosening. Slipping. I let it fall open. My cock rests heavy against my thigh, already flushed and leaking.
I swipe my thumb across the screen.
Me: I don’t beg easy. You sure you’ve got what it takes to ruin me?
Three dots flash.
Then:
