Page 38

HotScore: I have had the longest day. Need to blow off some steam…if you know what I mean…

Despite my shitty mood, that one message from a guy I don’t know has my shoulders loosening and a smile threatening.

RoughingTheModel: Nope, I’m not sure what you mean. Can you be a little more specific?

“Fucking hell,” I groan when a picture of his rock hard dick fills my screen. My grip on my cell becomes so tight I’m amazed the screen doesn’t crack.

Over the last week or so, whoever this man is at the end of these messages has made life easier.

He’s given me something to look forward to after long days of training.

Despite not knowing even basic information about him, I’m starting to trust him.

It’s dangerous. He could literally be anyone. But I’m becoming addicted to seeing his silly username pop up on my cell, and even more to the filthy images and videos he sends me. The man is pure fucking kryptonite, and I can’t help wanting more.

With every day that passes, more and more crazy ideas fill my head.

I’m desperate to turn the photos and videos into a call, to hear more of his voice.

I want to ask him to send me a photo of him that includes his face.

But I’m terrified.

If I do, he’s going to want to see mine, too.

It’s too big a risk.

RoughingTheModel: That sounds like the perfect end to my day.

HotScore: You had a long one, too?

RoughingTheModel: Like you wouldn’t believe.

I lift my arm to start my car, suddenly desperate to get out of here so I can get a little privacy with the man on my cell.

RoughingTheModel: Give me an hour. I gotta drive home.

I tug at my athletic pants in an attempt to get comfortable for the journey. Fuck if I’m not already rocking a semi just from the prospect of spending the rest of my night messaging this guy.

HotScore: I’m not sure I can survive an hour. Send me something to tide me over.

Fuck. My semi threatens to go full mast.

I can hardly pull my pants down right here in the arena parking lot. I can fucking guarantee that Storm and Rivers would choose that exact moment to appear and no doubt catch me red-handed, or whatever the equivalent would be for taking a dick pic outside work.

To be fair, they’ve probably done something similar. Prior to settling down with their women, and Kodie with his daughter, they were hardly angels.

“Fuck,” I mutter as I quickly scan the empty parking lot. Confident that no one is watching, I pussy out of the dick shot and instead pull my hoodie up and snap a photo of my tense abs.

I send that over and then force myself to drop my cell into the cup holder in the center console and put my car into drive.

12

GARRETT

RoughingTheModel: Just walked through my front door…Any requests to brighten your day?

Does this guy have any idea the number of things I want him to do to me? That I want to do to him?