Page 38 of Always Mine

*Sends selfie*

Marco-Boy:

I hope you’re on your way over here…

Me:

No chance. I’m not in the business of being a booty call.

Marco-Boy:

I do believe the tights you’re wearing on that fine booty are mine.

Marco-Boy:

I’ve decided I want them back.

Marco-Boy:

Now.

Me:

No chance.

Marco-Boy:

I’m sure you can be persuaded…

A few minutes pass before the phone pings with a new notification.

Marco-Boy:

*New image*

I open the image attached. And gasp. Loud enough for the Uber driver to give me a questioning look in his review mirror. I give a small smile and a wave to show all is well. But I am not well. Not even a little bit. I am speechless.

If you looked up the definition of “thirst trap” in the dictionary this is what you would see. Marco. Shirtless, propped against the pillows lining his headboard in all his sexy glory, one hand behind his head, making the bicep there bulge. He’s a work of art in all senses of the word. White bed linen the perfect backdrop for the black ink mapping out the intricate chest tattoo that sits under his collarbones and spans across his pecs. “When the hell did he get that?” I whisper incredulously to myself. The gold necklace he never takes off gleams against the dark ink which ends just above more smooth, golden skin that paves a path to a six-pack honed from years of boxing.

I can see a few droplets of water having the time of their life traversing the planes of his award-winning abs, telling me he’s freshly showered. Is this image scratch-and-sniff? For a moment I swear I can smell the clean crisp scent that is so distinctly him.

I track my eyes, down, down, down to the mouth-watering V leading to the outline of his hard cock clearly visible in the gray sweat pants hanging dangerously low on his hips.I wonder if he thought of me while he was…No Sophia! Don’t go there.

In his free hand, he holds a handwritten sign that rests on his hip bone at an angle. With bold, black marker in all caps he’s written, “Please forgive me for being a…” with an arrow pointing directly to his dick.

I squeal out a laugh, once again pulling the attention of the driver. He turns quickly like he’s intruding on a private moment. Can he see my screen? Shit. I black it out. I’ve never wanted to backflip on my words so quickly, but I resist.

Me:

Apology accepted. But hard pass on the booty call.

Marco:

Big mistake. Huge. *Painting nails emoji*

Me:

Sweet dreams, Marco-Boy. *Wink emoji*