Page 120 of Sexting His Assistant

I wait.

Ten seconds.

Twenty.

Then:

Nina: I hate you.

Luka: No, you don’t.

Nina: I might.

Luka: You liked my mouth too much for that.

Another pause.

This one is better.

I imagine her standing in the middle of her bedroom, phone in hand, cheeks hot, trying to decide whether to be offended or honest. I imagine her bed behind her, sheets still ruined, my tie maybe on the floor, her skin still sensitive from my hands.

My cock hardens again.

I curse under my breath and shift in the seat.

Bad idea.

My shoulder objects immediately.

My body does not care.

Nina: You’re very arrogant for a man who just ran away before my brother could murder him.

Luka: I did not run.

Nina: You escaped.

Luka: Strategically withdrew.

Nina: Coward.

Luka: Careful.

Nina: Or what?

I read that twice.

Then I start the car but do not pull away.

Luka: Or I come back upstairs.

The reply comes almost immediately.

Nina: You cannot.

Luka: I can.

Nina: Wrong woman, Mr. Kazan. Do you text all your women this dramatically?