Page 20 of Stitch
“Fuck you, asshole! You think this is just about fucking convenience, or fucking laziness? Go fuck yourself.” I wanted to hit him, and that surprised me, because we’d have the occasional disagreement but never anything that led to actual blows. I was tempted though, because he shouldn’t talk about a lady like that. It was out of order.
I stepped up closer, jabbing my finger at his chest.
“Don’t ever fucking talk about her like that again. In fact, don’t even fucking think her name. Got it?”
He held up both hands as he agreed with me, but he was smirking, the fucker. Getting a rise out of me, like it was a fucking game. I glared at my bike before I went inside, feeling even more frustrated by the fact that I couldn’t fucking sit on it, and I really, really needed a ride.
Cammy
WhenLissa invited meto the clubhouse again for drinks, I considered it, but I knew if I went, I’d only be looking for Stitch, and when I didn’t find him, I’d be crushed by disappointment, because I couldn’t stop thinking about him.
I went home, and I changed into a vest and shorts, because it was pretty damn hot and I moped about all evening, eventually going to bed with a large glass of wine, and a book, because sometimes a girl needs to get some any way she can.
My phone buzzed, and I ignored it, sinking into the gloriously sexy scene in my book. The hero, or anti-hero as he really was, had pinned his captive to the wall, and was touching her. It was so hot. She was arguing with him, but she wasn’t exactly fighting. The phone buzzed again and I cursed, grabbing it so I could silence it.
On the lock screen, it showed a text from an unknown number, but the last message showed.
Unknown:It’s Stitch, btw.
My heart raced, and the kindle fell from my hand, as I sat up straighter. Stitch? How did he have my number? I unlocked the phone, and saw it was the second message from him.
Unknown:Lissa gave me your number, I hope that’s okay.
Unknown:It’s Stitch, btw.
Wow. Oh my god. She gave him my number?! And I was sitting on my bed, nicely buzzing from wine, nicely moist from the sex scene I was reading, and here was my personal wet dream, texting me. Oh! I should text back.
Me:Hi Stitch… why do they call you that anyway?
He was quiet for a few minutes, and I actually worried that I’d offended him,or that I’d missed my window, because he’d fallen asleep. I checked the time on my phone. It was almost midnight, wow. I’d been reading longer than I thought. I wondered if I should message again, but then my phone buzzed in my hand.
Unknown:Why don’t you try guessing, and I’ll tell you when you get it.
And yes, there was an emoji after the message, with a tongue poking out. Stitch uses emojis? My god. I’d only seen him intense and nervous, and this was a new side of him yet again.
Hmmm… why, I wonder… Oooh…
Me:Because you keep everyone in stitches with your amazing sense of humour!
I wondered if he was in bed too, or if he was naked. Well, both really. I hoped he was naked and sprawled out, all glistening and sexy. Why would he be glistening? Fuck’s sake, woman, get it together.
Stitch:There should be penalties for every wrong answer, I think.
Oooh… that was sexy too. Clearly I’d gone too long without sex. I was making everything into something bigger. I liked seeing his name on my phone though. Maybe I should have added the emoji after his name.
Me:What did you have in mind, and will I enjoy it?
Oh my god, what made me send that? Wine? Horniness? Both, I’m going with.
His answer was faster than the others.
Stitch:Well, I will… not sure about you.
Oh god… how was texting making me even wetter? He probably meant something dull, but here I was picturing spanking, or something utterly wicked and depraved.
Stitch:I’m not telling you what it’ll be. Let’s keep the mystery going. I’ll just keep counting.
That was definitely kind of kinky, and I was totally down for that.
