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Dalton: Did you come?
I close my eyes, still trembling.
Me: Yes.
Dalton: Good.
Another little aftershock goes through me.
Me: You’re sooo arrogant.
Dalton: Did you like it?
I stare at the question.
Then type: Too much.
A pause.
Dalton: I’m close.
My breath catches all over again.
Me: What are you thinking about?
Dalton: You asking for me.
I press the phone to my chest for a second, then look again.
Dalton: You saying you wanted one night and then taking everything I gave you.
My stomach tightens.
Dalton: Your mouth. Your tits. The way you said D because it was all you had, and God honest that was the hottest thing I’d heard. And it was just a fucking syllable.
I whisper his name before I type it.
“Dalton.”
Me: Dalton.
No reply for several seconds.
Then: Fuck.
A pause.
Dalton: I came.
The words send a strange warmth through me, softer than the rest.
For a minute, neither of us texts. I clean my hand with a tissue from the side table, then lie there staring at the ceiling, body loose and mind finally quieting.
Then I type: Simone is going to murder me if she ever finds out what I did on her couch.
Dalton: Wash your hands.
I press my face into the pillow to muffle my laugh.