Page 95 of Can't Fight It

Me:Like things we did last night?

Austin:That’s definitely on the list.

Me:Oh, you’ve got a list?

Austin:Of all the things I want to do to you? Yeah.

My jaw drops. Where has this sexually suggestive Austin come from? And how can I get him to stay?

Me:Do you have a copy of this list I can read?

Austin:Sorry, the only copy’s in my head. Guess you’ll have to find out by me showing you.

Me:Can I get a hint? You’ve got me excited.

Austin:It involves my tongue on you.

A flush runs over me. Oh my God, are we sexting? I can’t do this in class, right? And yet…

Me:Where?

Austin:Where do you want?

I stare at the screen, this whole thing becoming suddenly real. Didn’t I want this, though? For something to happen between us?

And why am I being prudish? I gave the man a hand job last night, for Christ’s sake. He fingered me until I was floating on a cloud of bliss. I fell asleep in his arms, more content than I’ve been in a long time. What’s a little text message in comparison?

Me:My pussy.

I flip my phone over on my desk, my cheeks scorching. I just asked Austin to go down on me tonight. Wasn’t I supposed to be telling him I like him? That I want a relationship with him?

In light of this new development, though… I’m dying to see how this plays out.

I turn my phone over, discovering another text from him.

Austin:You’ve got me so fucking hard in the break room at work. How am I going to go back out on the floor?

I let loose a goofy grin. Do I really affect him that much?

Me:If it makes you feel better, I’m surrounded by fifty other students in class right now and my face is tomato-red.

Austin:You never have to be embarrassed talking to me about this. I love hearing it.

See, he always knows exactly what to say to get me off the ledge.

Austin:Listen, my break is over, but maybe we could continue this conversation tonight?

A thrill runs through me. Tonight. When we’ll actually be doing this stuff.

Me:Absolutely. Can’t wait.

Austin:Me, too.

I set my phone down and press my hands to my cheeks, surreptitiously glancing around, but no one’s paying attention to me. Thank God.

I glance at the clock on the other side of the room, my heart sinking at the time. I’ve still got three classes and a shift at work to get through before I see Austin. How the hell am I going to focus?

And, more importantly, what exactly will tonight entail?