Wednesday, November 19

(6:09pm) (Outgoing call - no answer)

(6:14pm) I thought you said you’d be done by 6

(6:19pm) Done with the work part of the day but some of my old coworkers from the Detroit office wanted to get drinks at the hotel bar

(6:20pm) Will you call me when you get back to your room?  Missed the sound of your voice

(6:22pm) And miss you saying goodnight to me? Never 😍

(6:24pm) Favorite part of my day

----------------------------------------------

(9:09pm) Joel?

(9:11pm) Yes, sweetheart?

(9:12pm) Why haven't we had sex yet?

(9:12pm) (Outgoing call - no answer)

(9:13pm) (Outgoing call - no answer)

(9:14pm) Still at the bar

(9:14pm) Still? It’s past 9

(9:15pm) Drinks turned into dinner, dinner turned into dessert, dessert turned into more drinks

(9:16pm) You didn’t answer my question

(9:16pm) Not sure how to respond 

(9:17pm) Do you find me attractive?

(9:17pm) C’mon now. You know I do. 

(9:17pm) Then what is it?

(9:18pm) I just don’t want to mess this up 

(9:18pm) Joel…

(9:18pm) That’s not fair.  You know I’m a sucker for when you say my name.

(9:19pm) All I’m saying is that I want you to be comfortable I don’t want you to think that I’m pressuring you

(9:19pm) If anything it feels like I’m the one pressuring you…

(9:20pm) I am very much a willing participant

(9:20pm) So, you do think about me like that?

(9:20pm) All the time

(9:21pm) Do you…

(9:21pm) Do I what?

(9:23pm) I’m not sure how crude i’m allowed to be with you

(9:24pm) It’s gonna take a lot to send me running

(9:25pm) Do you think about me when you touch yourself?

(9:25pm) Baby…

(9:26pm) Just a simple yes or no

(9:26pm) I’m only human

(9:28pm) Tell me what you think about

(9:28pm) Cmon now. You’re out with your friends

(9:28pm) I’m being a bad friend and ignoring them

(9:29pm) Just call me when you get back to the room and we can continue this conversation

(9:29pm) Or you can just tell me now

(9:30pm) Here, let's make a deal You tell me what you think about And I'll call you later on and tell you what I think about

(9:31pm) I don’t know what to say

(9:31pm) Just tell me what you think about 

(9:32pm) I’ll try

----------------------------------------------

(9:36pm) There’s a lot of typing going on over there

(9:37pm) Do you want me to tell you or not?

(9:37pm) Sorry, please continue

(9:38pm) Gotta restart now

(9:38pm) You didn’t just copy what you had written?

(9:39pm) I don’t know how to do that

(9:39pm) 🤐

(9:39pm) Mhm. Keep laughing

(9:39pm) You make it too easy

(9:40pm) You know I ain’t good at texting

(9:40pm) No? Because I’m pretty sure that’s how you scored your girlfriend

(9:41pm) You like my dopey way of texting?

(9:41pm) Yes Now, please go back to your super long text that you were sending me.

(9:42pm) It’s nothing crazy.  I just think about kissing you all over. 

(9:42pm) It took you that long to type that?

(9:43pm) I aint done

(9:43pm) No?

(9:43pm) No Just not good at this

(9:44pm) At sexting?

(9:44pm) Is that what they call this?

(9:44pm) Yes, old man

(9:45pm) Not that old

(9:45pm) Would it help if I said I'll be on my best behavior?

(9:45pm) Probably not

(9:46pm) I promise

(9:47pm) Now, can you just try? For me? 🥺

(9:48pm) Why can’t we just wait and have sex like normal people?

(9:48pm) Because i’m thinking about you now…when i’m a million miles away

(9:50pm) Can you…help?

(9:50pm) Stop thinking too hard You’re stuck in your head

(9:51pm) It doesn’t have to be perfect Just tell me When you’re alone and you have your hand wrapped around yourself, what do you think about?

(9:52pm)  You under me

(9:52pm) Okay, good.  And are there clothes involved?

(9:53pm) Not usually

(9:53pm) And what are you doing?

(9:54pm) Kissing your neck and making you arch your back like you do when we make out. 

(9:54pm) You like that?

(9:54pm) I love it

(9:55pm) Good to know.

(9:55pm) What's next?

(9:56pm) I’d slide my leg between yours

(9:56pm) Good (9:57pm) and feel how turned on you were (9:57pm) and you’d feel how…hard I was for you

(9:58pm) Joel…

(9:58pm) Nuh-uh. You asked, and I’m answering

(9:58pm) So keep going

(9:59pm) I’d kiss you until you’re blue in the face.  Always wanna be kissing you.

(9:59pm) Maybe tease you a little

(9:59pm) Tease me how?

(10:00pm) Baby…

(10:00pm) I thought you were answering.

(10:01pm) I don’t know what words to use

(10:01pm) You can say the word cock, Joel. It’s not gonna kill you. and it’s certainly not gonna scare me off.

(10:02pm) Jesus Christ

(10:02pm) Is nowhere near this conversation. Now please continue

(10:02pm) Bossy

(10:03pm) Stop stalling

(10:03pm) Fine

(10:04pm) I’d tease you with my….cock

(10:04pm) Let you rub against it a little bit, get it nice and…wet

(10:05pm) The dramatic pauses are unnecessary but continue

(10:05pm) Baby, I'm trying here.

(10:06pm) You said you were gonna be on your best behavior

(10:06pm) You’re right. I’m sorry. 

(10:06pm) You gonna make fun of me again?

(10:06pm) No

(10:07pm) Good

(10:07pm) girl

(10:08pm) I’m sorry?

(10:08pm) Good girl…

(10:09pm) You like being called that?

(10:09pm) I don't know, but i imagined you saying it and my heart went from 1 to 100 real fast

(10:10pm) I’d kill to have you here with me right now 

(10:10pm) One more day and then I’m back in Texas

(10:10pm) Will you keep going for me, Joel?

(10:11pm) I’m doing ok?

(10:11pm) More than.

(10:12pm) You were saying that you’d tease me with your cock get it nice and wet

(10:13pm) Jesus, yeah Or maybe use my hand

(10:14pm) Let my thumb figure out how sensitive you are

(10:14pm) Start working two fingers inside you

(10:14pm) Maybe this wasn’t a good idea

(10:15pm) Shit, I’m sorry.  I knew I was bad at this

(10:15pm) NO.  God no. The opposite

(10:15pm) I’m getting a little too worked up 

(10:15pm) Oh.

(10:16pm) Do you want me to stop?

(10:16pm) Fuck, Joel

(10:17pm) Bet you’d sound real pretty saying that in my ear

(10:18pm) I’m blushing I’m beet red and blushing

(10:18pm) Is that it?

(10:19pm) What do you mean?

(10:19pm) Are you wet? Thinking about me touching you?

(10:19pm) JOEL

(10:20pm) How did you go from ‘I don't know if I’m good at this’ to….THAT in five minutes

(10:20pm) It’s a real ego boost to hear your girl getting worked up over you

(10:20pm) Touche

(10:21pm) Are you going to answer my question?

(10:22pm) Soaked, Joel. My panties are soaked and I am in public with my colleagues

(10:22pm) Good

(10:23pm) So, two fingers inside you, my thumb on your clit

(10:23pm) Do I need more than two? 

(10:23pm) Subtle

(10:23pm) It’s a legitimate question

(10:24pm) You’re fishing

(10:24pm) I’m not

(10:24pm) All you have to do is ask

(10:24pm) Is that not what I’m doing?

(10:25pm) Just ask the question you actually want to ask

(10:25pm) How is this somehow worse?

(10:26pm) Worse than telling me your panties are soaked?

(10:26pm) I’ve released a monster…

(10:26pm) I would make a pun but it would be in poor taste

(10:27pm) Joel, I swear to god

(10:27pm) I’m sorry. You got me feeling like I’m 16 all over again

(10:27pm) Apparently.  Jesus.

(10:28pm) It would probably be in your best interest to go up to three fingers

(10:28pm) I’m dizzy

(10:28pm) Baby, you okay?

(10:29pm) Keep talking, you asshole (10:29pm) Baby? What did I do?

(10:29pm) Joel, please

(10:30pm) Are you mad at me?

(10:30pm) No. Please keep talking.

(10:30pm) Oh. 

(10:31pm) Three fingers. You said I needed three.

(10:31pm) Yeah, baby. Three fingers inside you.

(10:31pm) I’d let you feel the stretch. Work you open slow

(10:32pm) Could you come from just my fingers?

(10:32pm) yes

(10:32pm) That was fast

(10:33pm) Yes, Joel. I would come from your fingers. Please keep going

(10:33pm) Baby, are you sure you’re okay?

(10:34pm) I am in the restaurant bathroom getting myself off because I can’t just sit there and do nothing while you talk such filth to me and now you’re going to be insufferable about it but i don’t care.

(10:34pm) I’m so close, Joel

(10:34pm) (Outgoing call)

“I cannot do this with you right now.”

“If anyone hears me…”

“You don’t have to say anything, baby. Just listen.”

(zipper opens)

“…are you?”

“Yeah”

“Fuck”

“After you come on my fingers, I’d still want to make love to you.”

“Do you think you can do that for me? Come again?”

“Yes”

“Good girl”

Your breath hitches and you shove the meaty part of your palm in your mouth to keep from moaning.

“I wanna go nice and slow. Feel your fingers dig into my back as you moan into my ear.”

“I’d tell you that you’re doing good. Real good.”

“I’d kiss you, but it wouldn’t be all sweet. Not then, not while i’m inside you.”

“…Joel”

“Shh, quiet, baby. Someone’s gonna hear”

“I don’t care. I’m so close”

“Just from listening to me talk?”

“You don’t get it. I’ve been worked up for weeks now. “

“and you’re so sweet in person.”

“So polite and proper and god, you literally asked if you could put your hand under my shirt I just–”

“I want you so bad”

“I want you too, baby”

“Let me make you come. How can I get you there?”

“Keep talking. Please, Joel. Just keep talking.”

“Okay, baby. Okay.”

“Fuck. I’m touching myself thinking about you.”

“Thinking about how you’d be so warm and tight around me.”

“How I’d lift one of your legs a little higher just so i could get in a little deeper”

“Oh god, Joel”

“Tell me, baby. Is that what you want?”

“You want me inside you? Want me to touch your clit while I’m fuckin’ you?”

“Yes–”

“I’m gonna come, baby.”

“Fuck—I’m so fucking close. Are you close?”

“I’m so close, Joel.”

“Come with me, baby.” 

“Come with me, please. Need to hear you come.”

“Joel–I–I–”

You press your palm tight against your mouth as the wave crashes over you. Your eyes squeeze shut and you’re forced to grab the railing for balance. You can hear the erratic sounds of his hand moving faster as he strokes his cock.

“Just like that, baby. Just like. You sound so good.”

Joel takes in a sharp inhale and then lets out a deep groan as he follows you, his orgasm hitting him hard, making his eyes roll back.

Your whole body shakes as you fight to stay quiet, breath coming in sharp, frantic bursts through your nose. Your thighs press together tightly and your knuckles turn white from where they still grip the railing.

A few moments pass.

“So…how’d I do?”

“The day I get back, I'm not letting you leave the bed.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

Wednesday, November 19

(6:09pm) (Outgoing call - no answer)

(6:14pm) I thought you said you’d be done by 6

(6:19pm) Done with the work part of the day but some of my old coworkers from the Detroit office wanted to get drinks at the hotel bar

(6:20pm) Will you call me when you get back to your room?  Missed the sound of your voice

(6:22pm) And miss you saying goodnight to me? Never 😍

(6:24pm) Favorite part of my day

----------------------------------------------

(9:09pm) Joel?

(9:11pm) Yes, sweetheart?

(9:12pm) Why haven't we had sex yet?

(9:12pm) (Outgoing call - no answer)

(9:13pm) (Outgoing call - no answer)

(9:14pm) Still at the bar

(9:14pm)Still? It’s past 9

(9:15pm) Drinks turned into dinner, dinner turned into dessert, dessert turned into more drinks

(9:16pm) You didn’t answer my question

(9:16pm) Not sure how to respond 

(9:17pm) Do you find me attractive?

(9:17pm) C’mon now. You know I do. 

(9:17pm) Then what is it?

(9:18pm) I just don’t want to mess this up 

(9:18pm) Joel…

(9:18pm) That’s not fair.  You know I’m a sucker for when you say my name.

(9:19pm) All I’m saying is that I want you to be comfortable I don’t want you to think that I’m pressuring you

(9:19pm) If anything it feels like I’m the one pressuring you…

(9:20pm) I am very much a willing participant

(9:20pm) So, you do think about me like that?

(9:20pm) All the time

(9:21pm) Do you…

(9:21pm) Do I what?

(9:23pm)I’m not sure how crude i’m allowed to be with you

(9:24pm) It’s gonna take a lot to send me running

(9:25pm) Do you think about me when you touch yourself?

(9:25pm) Baby…

(9:26pm) Just a simple yes or no

(9:26pm) I’m only human

(9:28pm) Tell me what you think about

(9:28pm) Cmon now. You’re out with your friends

(9:28pm) I’m being a bad friend and ignoring them

(9:29pm) Just call me when you get back to the room and we can continue this conversation

(9:29pm) Or you can just tell me now

(9:30pm) Here, let's make a deal You tell me what you think about And I'll call you later on and tell you what I think about

(9:31pm) I don’t know what to say

(9:31pm)Just tell me what you think about 

(9:32pm) I’ll try

----------------------------------------------

(9:36pm) There’s a lot of typing going on over there

(9:37pm) Do you want me to tell you or not?

(9:37pm) Sorry, please continue

(9:38pm) Gotta restart now

(9:38pm) You didn’t just copy what you had written?

(9:39pm) I don’t know how to do that

(9:39pm) 🤐

(9:39pm) Mhm. Keep laughing

(9:39pm) You make it too easy

(9:40pm) You know I ain’t good at texting

(9:40pm) No? Because I’m pretty sure that’s how you scored your girlfriend

(9:41pm) You like my dopey way of texting?

(9:41pm) Yes Now, please go back to your super long text that you were sending me.

(9:42pm) It’s nothing crazy.  I just think about kissing you all over. 

(9:42pm) It took you that long to type that?

(9:43pm) I aint done

(9:43pm) No?

(9:43pm) No Just not good at this

(9:44pm) At sexting?

(9:44pm) Is that what they call this?

(9:44pm)Yes, old man

(9:45pm)Not that old

(9:45pm) Would it help if I said I'll be on my best behavior?

(9:45pm) Probably not

(9:46pm) I promise

(9:47pm) Now, can you just try? For me? 🥺

(9:48pm) Why can’t we just wait and have sex like normal people?

(9:48pm) Because i’m thinking about you now…when i’m a million miles away

(9:50pm) Can you…help?

(9:50pm) Stop thinking too hard You’re stuck in your head

(9:51pm) It doesn’t have to be perfect Just tell me When you’re alone and you have your hand wrapped around yourself, what do you think about?

(9:52pm)  You under me

(9:52pm) Okay, good.  And are there clothes involved?

(9:53pm) Not usually

(9:53pm) And what are you doing?

(9:54pm) Kissing your neck and making you arch your back like you do when we make out. 

(9:54pm) You like that?

(9:54pm) I love it

(9:55pm) Good to know.

(9:55pm)What's next?

(9:56pm) I’d slide my leg between yours

(9:56pm) Good (9:57pm) and feel how turned on you were (9:57pm) and you’d feel how…hard I was for you

(9:58pm) Joel…

(9:58pm)Nuh-uh. You asked, and I’m answering

(9:58pm)So keep going

(9:59pm) I’d kiss you until you’re blue in the face.  Always wanna be kissing you.

(9:59pm) Maybe tease you a little

(9:59pm) Tease me how?

(10:00pm) Baby…

(10:00pm) I thought you were answering.

(10:01pm) I don’t know what words to use

(10:01pm) You can say the word cock, Joel. It’s not gonna kill you. and it’s certainly not gonna scare me off.

(10:02pm) Jesus Christ

(10:02pm) Is nowhere near this conversation. Now please continue

(10:02pm) Bossy

(10:03pm) Stop stalling

(10:03pm)Fine

(10:04pm)I’d tease you with my….cock

(10:04pm)Let you rub against it a little bit, get it nice and…wet

(10:05pm)The dramatic pauses are unnecessary but continue

(10:05pm)Baby, I'm trying here.

(10:06pm) You said you were gonna be on your best behavior

(10:06pm)You’re right. I’m sorry. 

(10:06pm) You gonna make fun of me again?

(10:06pm)No

(10:07pm)Good

(10:07pm)girl

(10:08pm) I’m sorry?

(10:08pm) Good girl…

(10:09pm) You like being called that?

(10:09pm) I don't know, but i imagined you saying it and my heart went from 1 to 100 real fast

(10:10pm)I’d kill to have you here with me right now 

(10:10pm)One more day and then I’m back in Texas

(10:10pm)Will you keep going for me, Joel?

(10:11pm)I’m doing ok?

(10:11pm)More than.

(10:12pm) You were saying that you’d tease me with your cock get it nice and wet

(10:13pm)Jesus, yeahOr maybe use my hand

(10:14pm)Let my thumb figure out how sensitive you are

(10:14pm)Start working two fingers inside you

(10:14pm)Maybe this wasn’t a good idea

(10:15pm) Shit, I’m sorry.  I knew I was bad at this

(10:15pm) NO.  God no. The opposite

(10:15pm)I’m getting a little too worked up 

(10:15pm)Oh.

(10:16pm)Do you want me to stop?

(10:16pm)Fuck, Joel

(10:17pm)Bet you’d sound real pretty saying that in my ear

(10:18pm) I’m blushing I’m beet red and blushing

(10:18pm)Is that it?

(10:19pm)What do you mean?

(10:19pm) Are you wet? Thinking about me touching you?

(10:19pm)JOEL

(10:20pm) How did you go from ‘I don't know if I’m good at this’ to….THAT in five minutes

(10:20pm)It’s a real ego boost to hear your girl getting worked up over you

(10:20pm)Touche

(10:21pm) Are you going to answer my question?

(10:22pm)Soaked, Joel. My panties are soaked and I am in public with my colleagues

(10:22pm)Good

(10:23pm)So, two fingers inside you, my thumb on your clit

(10:23pm)Do I need more than two? 

(10:23pm)Subtle

(10:23pm)It’s a legitimate question

(10:24pm)You’re fishing

(10:24pm)I’m not

(10:24pm)All you have to do is ask

(10:24pm)Is that not what I’m doing?

(10:25pm)Just ask the question you actually want to ask

(10:25pm)How is this somehow worse?

(10:26pm)Worse than telling me your panties are soaked?

(10:26pm)I’ve released a monster…

(10:26pm)I would make a pun but it would be in poor taste

(10:27pm)Joel, I swear to god

(10:27pm) I’m sorry. You got me feeling like I’m 16 all over again

(10:27pm) Apparently.  Jesus.

(10:28pm) It would probably be in your best interest to go up to three fingers

(10:28pm) I’m dizzy

(10:28pm)Baby, you okay?

(10:29pm) Keep talking, you asshole (10:29pm) Baby? What did I do?

(10:29pm)Joel, please

(10:30pm) Are you mad at me?

(10:30pm) No. Please keep talking.

(10:30pm)Oh. 

(10:31pm)Three fingers. You said I needed three.

(10:31pm)Yeah, baby. Three fingers inside you.

(10:31pm) I’d let you feel the stretch. Work you open slow

(10:32pm)Could you come from just my fingers?

(10:32pm)yes

(10:32pm)That was fast

(10:33pm)Yes, Joel. I would come from your fingers. Please keep going

(10:33pm) Baby, are you sure you’re okay?

(10:34pm) I am in the restaurant bathroom getting myself off because I can’t just sit there and do nothing while you talk such filth to me and now you’re going to be insufferable about it but i don’t care.

(10:34pm) I’m so close, Joel

(10:34pm) (Outgoing call)

“I cannot do this with you right now.”

“If anyone hears me…”

“You don’t have to say anything, baby. Just listen.”

(zipper opens)

“…are you?”

“Yeah”

“Fuck”

“After you come on my fingers, I’d still want to make love to you.”

“Do you think you can do that for me? Come again?”

“Yes”

“Good girl”

Your breath hitches and you shove the meaty part of your palm in your mouth to keep from moaning.

“I wanna go nice and slow. Feel your fingers dig into my back as you moan into my ear.”

“I’d tell you that you’re doing good. Real good.”

“I’d kiss you, but it wouldn’t be all sweet. Not then, not while i’m inside you.”

“…Joel”

“Shh, quiet, baby. Someone’s gonna hear”

“I don’t care. I’m so close”

“Just from listening to me talk?”

“You don’t get it. I’ve been worked up for weeks now. “

“and you’re so sweet in person.”

“So polite and proper and god, you literally asked if you could put your hand under my shirt I just–”

“I want you so bad”

“I want you too, baby”

“Let me make you come. How can I get you there?”

“Keep talking. Please, Joel. Just keep talking.”

“Okay, baby. Okay.”

“Fuck. I’m touching myself thinking about you.”

“Thinking about how you’d be so warm and tight around me.”

“How I’d lift one of your legs a little higher just so i could get in a little deeper”

“Oh god, Joel”

“Tell me, baby. Is that what you want?”

“You want me inside you? Want me to touch your clit while I’m fuckin’ you?”

“Yes–”

“I’m gonna come, baby.”

“Fuck—I’m so fucking close. Are you close?”

“I’m so close, Joel.”

“Come with me, baby.” 

“Come with me, please. Need to hear you come.”

“Joel–I–I–”

You press your palm tight against your mouth as the wave crashes over you. Your eyes squeeze shut and you’re forced to grab the railing for balance. You can hear the erratic sounds of his hand moving faster as he strokes his cock.

“Just like that, baby. Just like. You sound so good.”

Joel takes in a sharp inhale and then lets out a deep groan as he follows you, his orgasm hitting him hard, making his eyes roll back.

Your whole body shakes as you fight to stay quiet, breath coming in sharp, frantic bursts through your nose. Your thighs press together tightly and your knuckles turn white from where they still grip the railing.

A few moments pass.

“So…how’d I do?”

“The day I get back, I'm not letting you leave the bed.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

you both had spilled your secrets slowly, learning of his past, telling him yours. 

yet, there was one thing you had to tell him. it was dumb, really, keeping this to yourself. you knew he wouldn’t care, but something inside you felt almost ashamed. 

because you, at your ripe age of twenty-eight, were still a virgin. 

you knew it wasn’t something to be ashamed of– who the hell has time for sex while working through med school and residency? 

it wasn’t like there hadn’t been opportunities with jack, there had been plenty. but you’d chickened out each time, ignoring or redirecting his advances. he never pushed you, of course, the guilt already bubbling at the surface just for wanting someone so young. 

so he gave you time and space when you needed it, never pressing. 

you stand in front of his bathroom mirror, smoothing your hands over your worn out shirt, your heart already racing. you’d decided tonight would be the night you’d lay everything on the table. tell the truth, and if all went as planned, you would no longer have that unnecessary shame hanging over you. 

his voice pulls you from your thoughts, a soft call of your name, a low rumble that sends a pleasant tingle up your spine. you catch yourself smiling in the mirror, your expression softening as you take in the pure happiness radiating from you, the nervous butterflies settling. 

taking another deep breath, you slip from the bathroom, your smile still not having fallen from your face as you climb into bed, climbing under the covers he’d lifted for you before settling into his side. you wrap a leg around his hip, your face already tilting toward his for a kiss. 

it was your nightly routine now when you stayed, curled up under the covers, making out like teenagers. 

you pull away first, your chest heaving as you prepare yourself. 

“jack, i need you.” you mumble, your eyes seeking his in the glow of the moon through his apartment windows.

his expression is confused for only a moment before realization dawns on his face. his eyes crinkle with mischief, his lip turning up at one corner. “yeah?”

"yeah," you echo, though your voice wavers just slightly. you press your lips together, steeling yourself again. "but there's something i have to tell you first."

his hand, which had been tracing idle patterns along your waist, stills. not in alarm– jack is never alarmed easily– just giving you his full attention. 

"okay," he says simply.

"i've never-" you start, then stop and try again. "i haven't done this before. any of it." you watch his face carefully, searching for the thing you'd been dreading. pity, maybe. or worse, amusement. "i know that's- i know it's a lot, and i should have said something sooner, but i didn't know how to bring it up without it being-"

“hey, baby, slow down.” jack stops you, his hand coming up to cup the side of your face. “take a breath, it’s okay.” 

you grimace, but follow his direction and let yourself relax. then his eyes soften even further, his thumb brushes across your cheekbone with such soft tenderness that your throat tightens.

"that's what you've been worried about?" he asks, and there's no mockery in it. just genuine surprise, tinged with something that sounds almost like relief. "baby, that doesn't change anything."

you feel the tension in your muscles ease just slightly, though your heart is still hammering against your ribs. "you're not... disappointed? or-"

"disappointed?" jack repeats, and now there is a hint of amusement, but it's warm, affectionate. "why the hell would i be disappointed?"

"i don't know," you admit, your voice small. "because i'm twenty-eight and i should have–"

"should have what?" he interrupts gently. "there's no timeline for this stuff. you know that." his hand slides from your face down to your neck, his fingers curling around the back of it, grounding you. "you've been busting your ass through med school and residency. think i don't know how much of your life that takes up?"

you swallow hard, nodding.

"and even if that wasn't the reason," he continues, his voice dropping lower, "it still wouldn't matter. this isn't something you owe anyone. not me, not anybody." his forehead comes to rest against yours, and you can feel his breath warm against your lips. "the only thing that matters to me is that you want this. that you want me."

"i do," you whisper, and it comes out more desperate than you intended. "i do want you, jack. i've wanted you for-" you break off, embarrassed by your own intensity.

"for how long?" he prompts, and there's that mischievous edge again, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

"since the first time you gave me a ride home," you confess, and his grin becomes a little more sensual.

"yeah?" he murmurs, and then his mouth is on yours again, slower this time, deeper. his tongue traces the seam of your lips and you open for him with a soft sound that makes him groan low in his chest.

when he pulls back, you're both breathing harder. his hand has moved from your neck to your waist, his fingers slipping just barely beneath the hem of your worn shirt, touching bare skin.

"we can take this as slow as you need," he says, his voice rough now, strained. "or we can stop completely if you change your mind. at any point. you understand?"

you nod, but that's not enough for him.

"i need to hear you say it," he murmurs, gaze dark and steady on you.

"i do," you breathe. "but i don't want to stop. i want-" you hesitate, then force yourself to say it. "i need you to touch me."

the sound he makes is somewhere between a groan and a laugh, his forehead dropping to your shoulder. "you're gonna kill me," he mutters against your collarbone, and you feel him smile against your skin.

"is that a yes?" you ask, and you're surprised by the hint of playfulness in your own voice, the anxiety beginning to melt under the warmth of his acceptance.

"that's a hell yes," he says, lifting his head to look at you again. his eyes are darker now, pupils blown wide, but there's still that careful attention in them, that focus that makes you feel like the center of his universe. "but we're doing this right. you tell me if something doesn't feel good, if you want me to slow down, if you want me to stop. deal?"

"deal," you agree, and then his mouth is on yours again and his hand is sliding higher beneath your shirt, his palm warm and slightly rough against your ribs.

you arch into the touch without thought, a soft gasp escaping you, and he swallows the sound with his kiss. his hand moves higher still, cupping your breast through the thin fabric of your bra, his thumb brushing over your nipple making your hips jerk forward involuntarily.

"that okay?" he murmurs against your mouth.

"yes," you breathe. "yes, that's–" you break off as he does it again, more deliberately this time, and the familiar heat pools between your legs, your body responding to the stimulation in little sparks of pleasure.

he pulls back just enough to look at you, his hand stilling. "can i take this off?" he asks, tugging gently at your shirt.

you nod, then remember what he said. "yes. please."

he sits up slightly, helping you pull the worn fabric over your head, and you resist the urge to cover yourself even though you're still wearing your bra. the moonlight streaming through the window casts everything in silver and shadow, and the way jack is looking at you– like you're something precious, something worth savoring– makes your breath catch. it's one thing to be alone in your apartment, touching yourself in the dark. it's another entirely to be seen like this.

"you're so fucking beautiful," he says, and it's not a line. you can hear the sincerity in it, the awe.

"jack–" you start, but he's already leaning down, pressing kisses along your collarbone, down to the swell of your breast above the cup of your bra.

"can i take this off too?" he asks, his fingers already at the clasp between your breasts.

"yes." this time your voice is steadier, more certain.

he unhooks it with practiced ease and you help him slide it down your arms and out from under you, tossing it somewhere off the side of the bed. and then you're bare from the waist up, and jack is looking at you like he's been given something he doesn't quite deserve.

"fuck," he breathes, and then his mouth is on you, his lips closing around your nipple, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bud as it hardens under his ministrations.

the vulnerability of it makes your skin prickle with awareness. you know what your breasts look like, have touched them yourself countless times, but having someone else's eyes on you, someone else's hands…

the sensation sends a jolt straight through you, familiar but different, and you cry out, your hands flying to his hair, tangling in his curls. you know you're sensitive there, have always been, but his mouth is hotter and wetter than your own fingers ever could be. he hums against you, the vibration making you shudder, and his hand comes up to palm your other breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers.

"harder," you gasp without thinking, and he complies immediately, pinching just enough to make you moan. "yeah, like that."

he seems to want to spend an eternity there, and you’re almost sure you can come from just this, but you need more. you push slightly at his head and he chuckles, releasing your nipple with a soft pop and kissing his way down your stomach, his hands sliding to the waistband of your shorts.

he pauses, looking up at you, and the sight of him between your legs, his eyes dark and hungry but still patient, still waiting for permission, makes something clench deep in your belly.

"can i?" he asks, his fingers hooked in the elastic.

"yes," you say, and you lift your hips to help him slide them down along with your underwear, leaving you completely bare beneath him.

the cool air against your heated skin makes you shiver, and you have to fight the urge to close your legs. but jack's hands are on your thighs, gently pressing them apart, and the look on his face is so reverent that the self-consciousness fades.

"you're perfect," he murmurs, and then he's settling between your legs, his shoulders pressing your thighs wider, and oh god, you realize what he's about to do.

your breath catches. you've imagined this before, late at night with your own hand between your legs, but the reality of it– of him– is suddenly overwhelming.

"wait," you say, and he freezes immediately, his eyes snapping to yours.

"you okay?" he asks, concern evident in his voice.

"i just–" you swallow hard. "i've never– no one's ever–" the words feel clumsy in your mouth. you know what you like, know exactly how to touch yourself to get off, but letting someone else do it, being that vulnerable scares you.

understanding dawns on his face. "you want me to stop?"

"no," you say quickly. "no, i just–" you take a breath, steadying your nerves. "i know what i like. i just don't know if i can... let go.”

his expression softens, and he presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh. "you don’t have to think about it, baby," he says. "just feel. and if you need to tell me what works, tell me. i want to learn you."

the tenderness in his voice makes your chest ache. you nod, and he takes that as permission, lowering his head.

the first touch of his tongue against you is electric, and you gasp, your hands flying back to his hair. it's different from your own touch, less precise and more intense. the groan he lets out is better than any vibrator you’ve used. “fuck, baby, you’re so wet.”

"oh my god," you breathe as he licks a slow, deliberate stripe up your center. he's exploring, learning, and you force yourself to relax into it, to let him indulge himself for a few minutes.

he pulls back just enough to speak, his breath hot against your sensitive flesh. "tell me what feels good."

"higher," you manage, your voice shaking. "more pressure on the side my clit."

he adjusts immediately, prodding his tongue against your clit, and the pleasure is sharp and familiar but so much more intense than when you do it yourself. you cry out, your hips bucking up against his mouth.

"yes," you gasp. "just like that, don't stop."

you practically feel him grin against your cunt, holding you steady with one hand splayed across your lower belly, the other sliding up to find your hand, lacing your fingers together. the gesture is so tender, so intimate, that it makes your chest ache even as the pleasure builds between your legs.

you know this feeling, have chased it countless times alone in your bed, but this is different. this is trusting someone else to take you there, letting yourself be vulnerable enough to fall apart in front of him.

"jack," you gasp as the tension coils tighter, "i'm close, i'm–"

"let go," he murmurs against you. "i've got you, baby. let go."

and you do, the orgasm crashing over you in waves that feel different somehow– more intense, more overwhelming because you're not in control of it. no pause in the movement while your body seizes with pleasure, no extra energy expended on what you’re doing. you cry out his name, your back arching off the bed, and he works you through it, his tongue gentling as you come down, pressing soft kisses to your inner thighs as you try to catch your breath.

when you finally open your eyes, he's hovering over you again, his lips and chin glistening with your arousal, his expression smug and tender all at once.

"you okay?" he asks, brushing a strand of hair away from your damp forehead.

"i–" you start, then laugh breathlessly. "yeah. that was–" you shake your head, still trying to process the euphoria racing through you. "really good."

he grins, leaning down to kiss you, and you can taste yourself on his tongue. the intimacy of it makes you want him even more.

"we can stop here if you want," he says against your mouth. "no pressure."

but you shake your head, your hands already reaching for his chest to push him down, reversing your positions. "i don't want to stop," you say. "i want your cock." you blush with the vulgarity of it, but the responding jerk of his hips is enough to know you said the exact right thing.

he helps you pull his shirt off, and then you're running your hands over his chest, feeling the solid warmth of him, the way his muscles shift beneath your touch. your fingers trail down to the waistband of his sweatpants, and you can see the obvious bulge there, can feel him hard and hot against the inside of your thigh.

"can i?" you ask, echoing his earlier question.

"fuck, yes," he breathes, and you push the fabric down over his hips and down his legs, mindful that his leg may be sore after a pulling a 24 hour shift.

he's not wearing anything underneath, and when his cock springs free, thick and flushed and already leaking at the tip, you feel a surge of pure lust that travels from the tips of your fingers down to your toes. you don’t particularly mean to just sit on his thighs and stare, but he’s just so perfect. thick, maybe six and a half inches, curving just a little toward his belly. the tip is red and flushed, precome already gathered in the slit.

"you can touch me," he says, his voice strained. "if you want."

pressing your lips together to suppress your grin, you wrap your hand around the base of his cock, almost gasping in delight at the feel of it. he’s warm and soft, yet firm and unyielding under your palm. you experimentally pump him, eyes flickering from between his legs up to his eyes. 

"is this good?" you ask, adjusting your grip, twisting slightly at the head the way you've seen in porn.

"fuck, yes," he grits out. "perfect. but if you keep doing that, this is gonna be over embarrassingly fast."

you smile despite yourself, feeling a surge of confidence at the evidence of how much he wants you. "can i be on top?” your brow furrows a little as your hand stills, simply holding him at the base.

he exhales a breathy laugh, then reaches over to his nightstand, pulling out a condom. "you sure about this?" he asks one more time, and you love him for it, for checking even now.

"i'm sure. wanna set the pace" you say, and the nervousness isn't about the act itself– you know how this works, know what your body needs– it's about trusting him with this, about being this vulnerable with another person. 

he rolls the condom on with practiced efficiency, letting his hands settle on your thighs spread over his hips. “you ever had anything this big in you?” he asks, and it’s a genuine question. 

you nod, thinking about your not so small collection of toys, and he reaches down to guide himself to your entrance. the first press of him against you makes you tense slightly– not from fear, but from the unfamiliarity of it, the reality of letting someone inside you.

"breathe," he reminds you, and you do, forcing yourself to relax as the tip of his cock teases through your folds. “lower yourself when you want, baby.” 

you whimper as you lower yourself slowly, so slowly, and there's a stretch, a pressure, a moment of adjustment as your body accommodates him. it's not painful, just different. he’s warmer than any of the silicone you’ve used in the past, more forgiving inside you as you lower inch by inch. 

"you okay?" he asks, his voice tight with the effort of holding still.

"yeah," you manage, eyes shut and hands planted against his chest. "just–give me a second to adjust."

he does, thumbs drawing light circles against the meat of your thighs. gradually, your body relaxes around him, the fullness becoming less foreign, more right.

"okay," you breathe. "gonna move now."

you rise up on your knees and sink back down, a slow experimental roll of your hips. the sound that escapes you is embarrassingly needy, but jack's head drops back against the pillow with a groan that makes you feel powerful in a way you hadn't anticipated.

"yeah," he breathes. "just like that."

you do it again, finding a rhythm that makes sparks shoot up your spine. his hands stay loose on your thighs, letting you lead, only tightening when you hit a particularly good spot and clench around him.

"angle forward a little," he suggests, his voice rough.

"oh," you gasp. the head of his cock rubs against a spot inside you you’ve found with your own fingers, your own toys, but so much more overwhelming with him filling you like this. "there, right there."

"yeah?" he asks, and you can hear the satisfaction in it, the pleasure.

"yeah," you confirm breathlessly, planting your hands more firmly on his chest and picking up the pace.

his hand slides up your thigh, thumb finding your clit, and you cover his finger with your own, guiding him the same way you showed him earlier. he follows your lead immediately, no ego about it, just wanting to get it right.

"like this?" he murmurs, eyes fixed on the sight of your smaller hand on top of his.

"like that," you confirm, and when he matches your rhythm perfectly you moan, long and unguarded.

"fuck," he grits out, his hips giving the smallest involuntary thrust upward. "you feel incredible. you have no idea…"

"i think i have some idea," you manage, and he laughs, breathless and undone, his hands gripping your hips for just a moment before releasing you back to your own pace.

the combination of sensations overwhelms you– the fullness of him, his thumb on your clit exactly how you need it, the freedom of controlling the depth and rhythm, the way he's looking up at you like you're the most remarkable thing he's ever seen. the vulnerability of being this exposed, this seen, should scare you. instead it makes the coil in your belly pull tighter as you clench around him.

"jack," you gasp. "i'm close, i'm so close…"

"i know," he murmurs, his eyes dark and focused on your face. "i've got you. take what you need."

you really begin to chase it without shame, your hips working harder up and down until the orgasm breaks over you in long, shuddering waves. you cry out his name, clenching around him, and feel him follow with a low groan, his hands gripping your hips to pull you down as he spills into the condom. the feeling of him pulsing inside you drags your orgasm out longer, the intimacy of a shared orgasm far more spectacular than you could have ever imagined. 

you collapse forward onto his chest, both of you breathing hard. his arms wrap around you, one hand stroking slowly up and down your spine.

after a long moment you lift your head, giggling softly. 

"hi," you say stupidly.

"hi," he returns, and the smile that breaks across his face is so unguarded, so soft, that your chest aches with it.

you ease off him carefully, both of you wincing at the sensitivity, and he takes care of the condom before pulling you back into the warmth of his side. you tuck your face against his neck, his pulse still elevated beneath your lips.

"you okay?" he asks, for what feels like the hundredth time, and you smile against his skin.

"i'm perfect," you say, and you mean it completely. "that was… you were…"

"you were amazing," he interrupts, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "thank you for trusting me with this. for letting me be the one."

you're quiet for a moment, just breathing him in. "thank you for making it safe to be vulnerable."

"you don't have to thank me for that," he says softly, fingers feathering over your arm. 

"i love you," you whisper, the words slipping out before you can catch them.

you feel him still– just for a moment– and the familiar panic flares. too soon, too much, you've ruined it–

but then he's tilting your chin up, his eyes soft and certain in the dim light.

Wednesday, November 19

(6:09pm) (Outgoing call - no answer)

(6:14pm) I thought you said you’d be done by 6

(6:19pm) Done with the work part of the day but some of my old coworkers from the Detroit office wanted to get drinks at the hotel bar

(6:20pm) Will you call me when you get back to your room?  Missed the sound of your voice

(6:22pm) And miss you saying goodnight to me? Never 😍

(6:24pm) Favorite part of my day

----------------------------------------------

(9:09pm) Joel?

(9:11pm) Yes, sweetheart?

(9:12pm) Why haven't we had sex yet?

(9:12pm) (Outgoing call - no answer)

(9:13pm) (Outgoing call - no answer)

(9:14pm) Still at the bar

(9:14pm)Still? It’s past 9

(9:15pm) Drinks turned into dinner, dinner turned into dessert, dessert turned into more drinks

(9:16pm) You didn’t answer my question

(9:16pm) Not sure how to respond 

(9:17pm) Do you find me attractive?

(9:17pm) C’mon now. You know I do. 

(9:17pm) Then what is it?

(9:18pm) I just don’t want to mess this up 

(9:18pm) Joel…

(9:18pm) That’s not fair.  You know I’m a sucker for when you say my name.

(9:19pm) All I’m saying is that I want you to be comfortable I don’t want you to think that I’m pressuring you

(9:19pm) If anything it feels like I’m the one pressuring you…

(9:20pm) I am very much a willing participant

(9:20pm) So, you do think about me like that?

(9:20pm) All the time

(9:21pm) Do you…

(9:21pm) Do I what?

(9:23pm)I’m not sure how crude i’m allowed to be with you

(9:24pm) It’s gonna take a lot to send me running

(9:25pm) Do you think about me when you touch yourself?

(9:25pm) Baby…

(9:26pm) Just a simple yes or no

(9:26pm) I’m only human

(9:28pm) Tell me what you think about

(9:28pm) Cmon now. You’re out with your friends

(9:28pm) I’m being a bad friend and ignoring them

(9:29pm) Just call me when you get back to the room and we can continue this conversation

(9:29pm) Or you can just tell me now

(9:30pm) Here, let's make a deal You tell me what you think about And I'll call you later on and tell you what I think about

(9:31pm) I don’t know what to say

(9:31pm)Just tell me what you think about 

(9:32pm) I’ll try

----------------------------------------------

(9:36pm) There’s a lot of typing going on over there

(9:37pm) Do you want me to tell you or not?

(9:37pm) Sorry, please continue

(9:38pm) Gotta restart now

(9:38pm) You didn’t just copy what you had written?

(9:39pm) I don’t know how to do that

(9:39pm) 🤐

(9:39pm) Mhm. Keep laughing

(9:39pm) You make it too easy

(9:40pm) You know I ain’t good at texting

(9:40pm) No? Because I’m pretty sure that’s how you scored your girlfriend

(9:41pm) You like my dopey way of texting?

(9:41pm) Yes Now, please go back to your super long text that you were sending me.

(9:42pm) It’s nothing crazy.  I just think about kissing you all over. 

(9:42pm) It took you that long to type that?

(9:43pm) I aint done

(9:43pm) No?

(9:43pm) No Just not good at this

(9:44pm) At sexting?

(9:44pm) Is that what they call this?

(9:44pm)Yes, old man

(9:45pm)Not that old

(9:45pm) Would it help if I said I'll be on my best behavior?

(9:45pm) Probably not

(9:46pm) I promise

(9:47pm) Now, can you just try? For me? 🥺

(9:48pm) Why can’t we just wait and have sex like normal people?

(9:48pm) Because i’m thinking about you now…when i’m a million miles away

(9:50pm) Can you…help?

(9:50pm) Stop thinking too hard You’re stuck in your head

(9:51pm) It doesn’t have to be perfect Just tell me When you’re alone and you have your hand wrapped around yourself, what do you think about?

(9:52pm)  You under me

(9:52pm) Okay, good.  And are there clothes involved?

(9:53pm) Not usually

(9:53pm) And what are you doing?

(9:54pm) Kissing your neck and making you arch your back like you do when we make out. 

(9:54pm) You like that?

(9:54pm) I love it

(9:55pm) Good to know.

(9:55pm)What's next?

(9:56pm) I’d slide my leg between yours

(9:56pm) Good (9:57pm) and feel how turned on you were (9:57pm) and you’d feel how…hard I was for you

(9:58pm) Joel…

(9:58pm)Nuh-uh. You asked, and I’m answering

(9:58pm)So keep going

(9:59pm) I’d kiss you until you’re blue in the face.  Always wanna be kissing you.

(9:59pm) Maybe tease you a little

(9:59pm) Tease me how?

(10:00pm) Baby…

(10:00pm) I thought you were answering.

(10:01pm) I don’t know what words to use

(10:01pm) You can say the word cock, Joel. It’s not gonna kill you. and it’s certainly not gonna scare me off.

(10:02pm) Jesus Christ

(10:02pm) Is nowhere near this conversation. Now please continue

(10:02pm) Bossy

(10:03pm) Stop stalling

(10:03pm)Fine

(10:04pm)I’d tease you with my….cock

(10:04pm)Let you rub against it a little bit, get it nice and…wet

(10:05pm)The dramatic pauses are unnecessary but continue

(10:05pm)Baby, I'm trying here.

(10:06pm) You said you were gonna be on your best behavior

(10:06pm)You’re right. I’m sorry. 

(10:06pm) You gonna make fun of me again?

(10:06pm)No

(10:07pm)Good

(10:07pm)girl

(10:08pm) I’m sorry?

(10:08pm) Good girl…

(10:09pm) You like being called that?

(10:09pm) I don't know, but i imagined you saying it and my heart went from 1 to 100 real fast

(10:10pm)I’d kill to have you here with me right now 

(10:10pm)One more day and then I’m back in Texas

(10:10pm)Will you keep going for me, Joel?

(10:11pm)I’m doing ok?

(10:11pm)More than.

(10:12pm) You were saying that you’d tease me with your cock get it nice and wet

(10:13pm)Jesus, yeahOr maybe use my hand

(10:14pm)Let my thumb figure out how sensitive you are

(10:14pm)Start working two fingers inside you

(10:14pm)Maybe this wasn’t a good idea

(10:15pm) Shit, I’m sorry.  I knew I was bad at this

(10:15pm) NO.  God no. The opposite

(10:15pm)I’m getting a little too worked up 

(10:15pm)Oh.

(10:16pm)Do you want me to stop?

(10:16pm)Fuck, Joel

(10:17pm)Bet you’d sound real pretty saying that in my ear

(10:18pm) I’m blushing I’m beet red and blushing

(10:18pm)Is that it?

(10:19pm)What do you mean?

(10:19pm) Are you wet? Thinking about me touching you?

(10:19pm)JOEL

(10:20pm) How did you go from ‘I don't know if I’m good at this’ to….THAT in five minutes

(10:20pm)It’s a real ego boost to hear your girl getting worked up over you

(10:20pm)Touche

(10:21pm) Are you going to answer my question?

(10:22pm)Soaked, Joel. My panties are soaked and I am in public with my colleagues

(10:22pm)Good

(10:23pm)So, two fingers inside you, my thumb on your clit

(10:23pm)Do I need more than two? 

(10:23pm)Subtle

(10:23pm)It’s a legitimate question

(10:24pm)You’re fishing

(10:24pm)I’m not

(10:24pm)All you have to do is ask

(10:24pm)Is that not what I’m doing?

(10:25pm)Just ask the question you actually want to ask

(10:25pm)How is this somehow worse?

(10:26pm)Worse than telling me your panties are soaked?

(10:26pm)I’ve released a monster…

(10:26pm)I would make a pun but it would be in poor taste

(10:27pm)Joel, I swear to god

(10:27pm) I’m sorry. You got me feeling like I’m 16 all over again

(10:27pm) Apparently.  Jesus.

(10:28pm) It would probably be in your best interest to go up to three fingers

(10:28pm) I’m dizzy

(10:28pm)Baby, you okay?

(10:29pm) Keep talking, you asshole (10:29pm) Baby? What did I do?

(10:29pm)Joel, please

(10:30pm) Are you mad at me?

(10:30pm) No. Please keep talking.

(10:30pm)Oh. 

(10:31pm)Three fingers. You said I needed three.

(10:31pm)Yeah, baby. Three fingers inside you.

(10:31pm) I’d let you feel the stretch. Work you open slow

(10:32pm)Could you come from just my fingers?

(10:32pm)yes

(10:32pm)That was fast

(10:33pm)Yes, Joel. I would come from your fingers. Please keep going

(10:33pm) Baby, are you sure you’re okay?

(10:34pm) I am in the restaurant bathroom getting myself off because I can’t just sit there and do nothing while you talk such filth to me and now you’re going to be insufferable about it but i don’t care.

(10:34pm) I’m so close, Joel

(10:34pm) (Outgoing call)

“I cannot do this with you right now.”

“If anyone hears me…”

“You don’t have to say anything, baby. Just listen.”

(zipper opens)

“…are you?”

“Yeah”

“Fuck”

“After you come on my fingers, I’d still want to make love to you.”

“Do you think you can do that for me? Come again?”

“Yes”

“Good girl”

Your breath hitches and you shove the meaty part of your palm in your mouth to keep from moaning.

“I wanna go nice and slow. Feel your fingers dig into my back as you moan into my ear.”

“I’d tell you that you’re doing good. Real good.”

“I’d kiss you, but it wouldn’t be all sweet. Not then, not while i’m inside you.”

“…Joel”

“Shh, quiet, baby. Someone’s gonna hear”

“I don’t care. I’m so close”

“Just from listening to me talk?”

“You don’t get it. I’ve been worked up for weeks now. “

“and you’re so sweet in person.”

“So polite and proper and god, you literally asked if you could put your hand under my shirt I just–”

“I want you so bad”

“I want you too, baby”

“Let me make you come. How can I get you there?”

“Keep talking. Please, Joel. Just keep talking.”

“Okay, baby. Okay.”

“Fuck. I’m touching myself thinking about you.”

“Thinking about how you’d be so warm and tight around me.”

“How I’d lift one of your legs a little higher just so i could get in a little deeper”

“Oh god, Joel”

“Tell me, baby. Is that what you want?”

“You want me inside you? Want me to touch your clit while I’m fuckin’ you?”

“Yes–”

“I’m gonna come, baby.”

“Fuck—I’m so fucking close. Are you close?”

“I’m so close, Joel.”

“Come with me, baby.” 

“Come with me, please. Need to hear you come.”

“Joel–I–I–”

You press your palm tight against your mouth as the wave crashes over you. Your eyes squeeze shut and you’re forced to grab the railing for balance. You can hear the erratic sounds of his hand moving faster as he strokes his cock.

“Just like that, baby. Just like. You sound so good.”

Joel takes in a sharp inhale and then lets out a deep groan as he follows you, his orgasm hitting him hard, making his eyes roll back.

Your whole body shakes as you fight to stay quiet, breath coming in sharp, frantic bursts through your nose. Your thighs press together tightly and your knuckles turn white from where they still grip the railing.

A few moments pass.

“So…how’d I do?”

“The day I get back, I'm not letting you leave the bed.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

Him not knowing how to copy and paste tho 💀

Wish Joel miller would make me blush too 😤 I am a simp for this man

Wednesday, November 19

(6:09pm) (Outgoing call - no answer)

(6:14pm) I thought you said you’d be done by 6

(6:19pm) Done with the work part of the day but some of my old coworkers from the Detroit office wanted to get drinks at the hotel bar

(6:20pm) Will you call me when you get back to your room?  Missed the sound of your voice

(6:22pm) And miss you saying goodnight to me? Never 😍

(6:24pm) Favorite part of my day

----------------------------------------------

(9:09pm) Joel?

(9:11pm) Yes, sweetheart?

(9:12pm) Why haven't we had sex yet?

(9:12pm) (Outgoing call - no answer)

(9:13pm) (Outgoing call - no answer)

(9:14pm) Still at the bar

(9:14pm)Still? It’s past 9

(9:15pm) Drinks turned into dinner, dinner turned into dessert, dessert turned into more drinks

(9:16pm) You didn’t answer my question

(9:16pm) Not sure how to respond 

(9:17pm) Do you find me attractive?

(9:17pm) C’mon now. You know I do. 

(9:17pm) Then what is it?

(9:18pm) I just don’t want to mess this up 

(9:18pm) Joel…

(9:18pm) That’s not fair.  You know I’m a sucker for when you say my name.

(9:19pm) All I’m saying is that I want you to be comfortable I don’t want you to think that I’m pressuring you

(9:19pm) If anything it feels like I’m the one pressuring you…

(9:20pm) I am very much a willing participant

(9:20pm) So, you do think about me like that?

(9:20pm) All the time

(9:21pm) Do you…

(9:21pm) Do I what?

(9:23pm)I’m not sure how crude i’m allowed to be with you

(9:24pm) It’s gonna take a lot to send me running

(9:25pm) Do you think about me when you touch yourself?

(9:25pm) Baby…

(9:26pm) Just a simple yes or no

(9:26pm) I’m only human

(9:28pm) Tell me what you think about

(9:28pm) Cmon now. You’re out with your friends

(9:28pm) I’m being a bad friend and ignoring them

(9:29pm) Just call me when you get back to the room and we can continue this conversation

(9:29pm) Or you can just tell me now

(9:30pm) Here, let's make a deal You tell me what you think about And I'll call you later on and tell you what I think about

(9:31pm) I don’t know what to say

(9:31pm)Just tell me what you think about 

(9:32pm) I’ll try

----------------------------------------------

(9:36pm) There’s a lot of typing going on over there

(9:37pm) Do you want me to tell you or not?

(9:37pm) Sorry, please continue

(9:38pm) Gotta restart now

(9:38pm) You didn’t just copy what you had written?

(9:39pm) I don’t know how to do that

(9:39pm) 🤐

(9:39pm) Mhm. Keep laughing

(9:39pm) You make it too easy

(9:40pm) You know I ain’t good at texting

(9:40pm) No? Because I’m pretty sure that’s how you scored your girlfriend

(9:41pm) You like my dopey way of texting?

(9:41pm) Yes Now, please go back to your super long text that you were sending me.

(9:42pm) It’s nothing crazy.  I just think about kissing you all over. 

(9:42pm) It took you that long to type that?

(9:43pm) I aint done

(9:43pm) No?

(9:43pm) No Just not good at this

(9:44pm) At sexting?

(9:44pm) Is that what they call this?

(9:44pm)Yes, old man

(9:45pm)Not that old

(9:45pm) Would it help if I said I'll be on my best behavior?

(9:45pm) Probably not

(9:46pm) I promise

(9:47pm) Now, can you just try? For me? 🥺

(9:48pm) Why can’t we just wait and have sex like normal people?

(9:48pm) Because i’m thinking about you now…when i’m a million miles away

(9:50pm) Can you…help?

(9:50pm) Stop thinking too hard You’re stuck in your head

(9:51pm) It doesn’t have to be perfect Just tell me When you’re alone and you have your hand wrapped around yourself, what do you think about?

(9:52pm)  You under me

(9:52pm) Okay, good.  And are there clothes involved?

(9:53pm) Not usually

(9:53pm) And what are you doing?

(9:54pm) Kissing your neck and making you arch your back like you do when we make out. 

(9:54pm) You like that?

(9:54pm) I love it

(9:55pm) Good to know.

(9:55pm)What's next?

(9:56pm) I’d slide my leg between yours

(9:56pm) Good (9:57pm) and feel how turned on you were (9:57pm) and you’d feel how…hard I was for you

(9:58pm) Joel…

(9:58pm)Nuh-uh. You asked, and I’m answering

(9:58pm)So keep going

(9:59pm) I’d kiss you until you’re blue in the face.  Always wanna be kissing you.

(9:59pm) Maybe tease you a little

(9:59pm) Tease me how?

(10:00pm) Baby…

(10:00pm) I thought you were answering.

(10:01pm) I don’t know what words to use

(10:01pm) You can say the word cock, Joel. It’s not gonna kill you. and it’s certainly not gonna scare me off.

(10:02pm) Jesus Christ

(10:02pm) Is nowhere near this conversation. Now please continue

(10:02pm) Bossy

(10:03pm) Stop stalling

(10:03pm)Fine

(10:04pm)I’d tease you with my….cock

(10:04pm)Let you rub against it a little bit, get it nice and…wet

(10:05pm)The dramatic pauses are unnecessary but continue

(10:05pm)Baby, I'm trying here.

(10:06pm) You said you were gonna be on your best behavior

(10:06pm)You’re right. I’m sorry. 

(10:06pm) You gonna make fun of me again?

(10:06pm)No

(10:07pm)Good

(10:07pm)girl

(10:08pm) I’m sorry?

(10:08pm) Good girl…

(10:09pm) You like being called that?

(10:09pm) I don't know, but i imagined you saying it and my heart went from 1 to 100 real fast

(10:10pm)I’d kill to have you here with me right now 

(10:10pm)One more day and then I’m back in Texas

(10:10pm)Will you keep going for me, Joel?

(10:11pm)I’m doing ok?

(10:11pm)More than.

(10:12pm) You were saying that you’d tease me with your cock get it nice and wet

(10:13pm)Jesus, yeahOr maybe use my hand

(10:14pm)Let my thumb figure out how sensitive you are

(10:14pm)Start working two fingers inside you

(10:14pm)Maybe this wasn’t a good idea

(10:15pm) Shit, I’m sorry.  I knew I was bad at this

(10:15pm) NO.  God no. The opposite

(10:15pm)I’m getting a little too worked up 

(10:15pm)Oh.

(10:16pm)Do you want me to stop?

(10:16pm)Fuck, Joel

(10:17pm)Bet you’d sound real pretty saying that in my ear

(10:18pm) I’m blushing I’m beet red and blushing

(10:18pm)Is that it?

(10:19pm)What do you mean?

(10:19pm) Are you wet? Thinking about me touching you?

(10:19pm)JOEL

(10:20pm) How did you go from ‘I don't know if I’m good at this’ to….THAT in five minutes

(10:20pm)It’s a real ego boost to hear your girl getting worked up over you

(10:20pm)Touche

(10:21pm) Are you going to answer my question?

(10:22pm)Soaked, Joel. My panties are soaked and I am in public with my colleagues

(10:22pm)Good

(10:23pm)So, two fingers inside you, my thumb on your clit

(10:23pm)Do I need more than two? 

(10:23pm)Subtle

(10:23pm)It’s a legitimate question

(10:24pm)You’re fishing

(10:24pm)I’m not

(10:24pm)All you have to do is ask

(10:24pm)Is that not what I’m doing?

(10:25pm)Just ask the question you actually want to ask

(10:25pm)How is this somehow worse?

(10:26pm)Worse than telling me your panties are soaked?

(10:26pm)I’ve released a monster…

(10:26pm)I would make a pun but it would be in poor taste

(10:27pm)Joel, I swear to god

(10:27pm) I’m sorry. You got me feeling like I’m 16 all over again

(10:27pm) Apparently.  Jesus.

(10:28pm) It would probably be in your best interest to go up to three fingers

(10:28pm) I’m dizzy

(10:28pm)Baby, you okay?

(10:29pm) Keep talking, you asshole (10:29pm) Baby? What did I do?

(10:29pm)Joel, please

(10:30pm) Are you mad at me?

(10:30pm) No. Please keep talking.

(10:30pm)Oh. 

(10:31pm)Three fingers. You said I needed three.

(10:31pm)Yeah, baby. Three fingers inside you.

(10:31pm) I’d let you feel the stretch. Work you open slow

(10:32pm)Could you come from just my fingers?

(10:32pm)yes

(10:32pm)That was fast

(10:33pm)Yes, Joel. I would come from your fingers. Please keep going

(10:33pm) Baby, are you sure you’re okay?

(10:34pm) I am in the restaurant bathroom getting myself off because I can’t just sit there and do nothing while you talk such filth to me and now you’re going to be insufferable about it but i don’t care.

(10:34pm) I’m so close, Joel

(10:34pm) (Outgoing call)

“I cannot do this with you right now.”

“If anyone hears me…”

“You don’t have to say anything, baby. Just listen.”

(zipper opens)

“…are you?”

“Yeah”

“Fuck”

“After you come on my fingers, I’d still want to make love to you.”

“Do you think you can do that for me? Come again?”

“Yes”

“Good girl”

Your breath hitches and you shove the meaty part of your palm in your mouth to keep from moaning.

“I wanna go nice and slow. Feel your fingers dig into my back as you moan into my ear.”

“I’d tell you that you’re doing good. Real good.”

“I’d kiss you, but it wouldn’t be all sweet. Not then, not while i’m inside you.”

“…Joel”

“Shh, quiet, baby. Someone’s gonna hear”

“I don’t care. I’m so close”

“Just from listening to me talk?”

“You don’t get it. I’ve been worked up for weeks now. “

“and you’re so sweet in person.”

“So polite and proper and god, you literally asked if you could put your hand under my shirt I just–”

“I want you so bad”

“I want you too, baby”

“Let me make you come. How can I get you there?”

“Keep talking. Please, Joel. Just keep talking.”

“Okay, baby. Okay.”

“Fuck. I’m touching myself thinking about you.”

“Thinking about how you’d be so warm and tight around me.”

“How I’d lift one of your legs a little higher just so i could get in a little deeper”

“Oh god, Joel”

“Tell me, baby. Is that what you want?”

“You want me inside you? Want me to touch your clit while I’m fuckin’ you?”

“Yes–”

“I’m gonna come, baby.”

“Fuck—I’m so fucking close. Are you close?”

“I’m so close, Joel.”

“Come with me, baby.” 

“Come with me, please. Need to hear you come.”

“Joel–I–I–”

You press your palm tight against your mouth as the wave crashes over you. Your eyes squeeze shut and you’re forced to grab the railing for balance. You can hear the erratic sounds of his hand moving faster as he strokes his cock.

“Just like that, baby. Just like. You sound so good.”

Joel takes in a sharp inhale and then lets out a deep groan as he follows you, his orgasm hitting him hard, making his eyes roll back.

Your whole body shakes as you fight to stay quiet, breath coming in sharp, frantic bursts through your nose. Your thighs press together tightly and your knuckles turn white from where they still grip the railing.

A few moments pass.

“So…how’d I do?”

“The day I get back, I'm not letting you leave the bed.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

You spend the two hour drive wondering if anyone would miss you if you swerved onto the oncoming lane. People would notice you gone, of course. Céline would be the first one, since she’s the only one expecting you home. Your grandmother would probably notice it by Sunday, when you didn’t make it to church in time. And Joel— 

You don’t want to think about Joel. But those two hours you spend behind the wheel of the car you stole from him give you nothing but time to think. Think about how you took everything he said at face value because you wanted it to be true. Think about how, apart from the time he basically hijacked your body, there’s a reasonable and non-supernatural answer to every odd thing that has happened since you met him: He’s been stalking you everywhere, he could’ve easily overheard you speaking to the wolf. You never actually saw him shift from wolf to human. The night he was injured — allegedly — and slept at your place, you went to sleep with a wolf in your living room and woke up to him; he could’ve easily swapped places with the animal while you slept and the real wolf was probably dead somewhere in the woods. 

And sure, you don’t have a proper explanation to the calming purring and the way your body forced you to obey his command but… Well, maybe those are on you. Maybe you wanted it so badly to be true that your brain tricked itself into thinking those things were actually happening. 

The real, more plausible truth is that Joel is a weird, obsessive killer that murdered his own wife and is now targeting you. His brother is clearly in on it, and you think that maybe Joel told him about it after he stalked you through the woods and saw the second wolf: It’s the perfect excuse to make you believe, really— A witness and an accomplice. 

You, more than ever, consider throwing the car straight into a lightpost. You feel like a fucking idiot, like the biggest moron on the planet and you wonder how much the Millers have laughed at your expanse. How far they are willing to go with this charade just because you gave it to them on a silver platter.

You’re not crying by the time you park the truck in front of Céline’s expensive condo, not really, but your cheeks are clammy and your eyes are burning— You don’t think you blinked more than three times since entering city limits, you don’t even remember stopping at a single red light ever since leaving the interstate and you hope you’ve gathered a shitload of traffic violations.

Céline pulls you into a hug that feels more like mourning than welcoming, her twiggy arms encasing around you for a long moment before she finally pulls away. 

“New car?” She asks when you hike up your backpack over your shoulder, one of her well manicured brows raising. 

“Borrowed from a friend.”

“Right.” Céline nods and you’re not sure if she doesn’t believe the car is borrowed or that you have a friend that isn’t her. But then her demeanor changes, a wide smile blooming on her pretty face. “Let’s get you upstairs, Oli’s making margaritas.”

Céline’s apartment is on the tenth floor of a newly renovated building with floor to ceiling windows and so much space you don’t even know how she managed to furnish it all. Oliver, her fiancé, is in the kitchen, standing behind a deep navy blue island and marble counters with a pitch of margarita and tiny, fancy-looking tacos.

“I just threw something together really quick.” They say, an apologetic smile even though the colorful tray is fancier and more elaborate than anything you ever could’ve done. “I did a pollo and a veggie version too, in case you’re vegan.” 

“Pollo is chicken.” Céline adds, shuffling through the cabinets for the glasses. You drop your backpack by your feet, shuffling your dirty converse shoes on the expensive hardwood flooring. Your entire existence feels dirty somehow, like you’re tainting this perfectly tailored reality by simply stepping foot in it.

“I know.” You tell her with a little bit more bite than intended before turning back to Oliver. “This is perfect, thank you.” 

Oliver is only around for two glasses of margarita before they excuse themself out of the room, giving Cél a soft kiss— Work calls, they say with a wave before ducking out of the apartment; there’s something funny about a big-time lawyer going to work slightly buzzed, something grounding in seeing a reflection of yourself in them— a tiny detail that makes Oliver a bit more of a real human and less of the rich and fancy soulmate your best friend found. 

You and Céline end up in the terrace with the margarita pitcher, the tray of tacos that Céline barely touches and a blunt— Higher quality than any weed you’ve smoked in the past couple of years, tasting fresh and a little citrusy, earthy in a way that makes you instantly relax. 

It’s easy to fall back into your dynamic with Céline even if the two of you haven’t seen each other in years— The booze and the weed help break the stiffness in your shoulders and you don’t even find yourself hurting over her outlandish stories, no jealousy tightening your stomach when she goes on and on about her new friends or the hot professor she hooked up with a couple of summers ago, your smile genuine when she speaks excitedly about how the universe ‘conspired’ for her to be accepted into residency at the hospital of her dreams. 

Of course things have always been easy for Céline— She’s pretty, she’s charming, she’s rich. She never had to struggle the way you had, never had to be told she’d be kicked out if her grades didn’t improve or berated about the hardships of raising a child. She still has both of her parents, a safety net to fall back to if she needs it and a hefty trust fund that allows her to pick and choose her residency. 

You’ve always hated her a little, no matter how much you love her, and you’re fairly certain the feeling is mutual. 

“How’s work?” She asks eventually, like you knew she would. You’re almost surprised she hasn’t asked about Joel first but you’re glad for it too— You’re not certain you can talk about him without breaking down.

“It’s fine. Good.” You shrug, taking a final hit from the blunt before you hand it back; Céline puts it out on the ashtray between the two of you, her long legs drawn up to her chest. “Not sure I’ll stay there for long, though. Genevieve’s unbearable.”

“She always was. I remember she’d yell at everyone when she made captain of the soccer team. But we both know she’s gonna rot in a menial job using her power trip to abuse her subordinates.” 

You wince, thinking about how you, too, will most likely rot in some menial job until you die. Céline seems to understand the weight of her words as soon as they’re out of her mouth because she reaches between the two of you, her hand grasping yours. 

“That job is temporary for you, anyway.” She says, in that calming and warm tone that would’ve sounded condescending from anyone else. “You’ll be able to tell her to suck it as soon as you start to sell your paintings.” 

You shove a taco in your mouth. It’s already a little soggy, the lettuce starting to wilt under the warmth of the pollo, but it’s better than to admit to her that, apart from that stupid doodle of the wolf on the back of a receipt, you haven’t drawn or painted for the better part of the year. 

It started because you ran out of paint and didn’t have the cash to buy more— You switched to charcoal then, which has never been your favorite but it was better than nothing. But then you started to draw less and less, too busy or too tired or too unmotivated. 

You’re not even sure where your supplies are, anymore. 

“Ooh, you should make TikToks!” She says, squeezing your hand once before she lets it go, an almost childlike smile on her face. “You could record yourself painting and then sell them once they’re done! I follow a girl that does macramê and she has like a bazillion followers.” 

“I’ll think about it.” You say, though you have no intention of following through with it. “Tell me about Oli’s friends, again. They’re meeting us at the thing, right?”

The three of you make it to the bar about half past midnight— You’re three energy drinks and way too many tequila shots in already, needing the alcohol and the caffeine to stay up so late. It’s funny how you’d most likely be wide awake, panicking and crying, if you were still at home. But in the big city, with your best friend and all the twinkling lights, your eyelids droop while she peppers them with so much glitter you think it’ll never wipe off entirely. You’re in a red dress, short and sparkly just like your eyes, the sort of pretty clothing you haven’t worn in way too many years. It smells a little like the back of your closet but Céline sprays her perfume on you and hands you a pair of her heels and, when you look at yourself in the mirror, you don’t feel like a falsified copy of yourself like you thought you would. 

You look pretty, and that is a word you haven’t used to talk about yourself since you were a teenager. 

The Wilde, the bar that Céline has been raving about since she moved to Jackson, is almost forty minutes away from her apartment— The drive is tense after Cél asks way too many questions about the baby car seat in the back that you didn’t even notice was there until her eyes are bugging out of her head. And then it goes very quiet when you finally admit that Joel is the one that lent you the car. Poor Oliver keeps trying to lighten the mood, telling you about their job and singing along to the music on the radio a little bit too loud, like a child trying to take the attention away from two arguing parents. They jump out of the truck even before you can properly park it, clearly wanting to get away from the bad thing brewing between you and Céline as fast as possible. 

Cél grabs your wrist just before you can hop out of the car too and you take a deep breath, turning back to her with your shoulders squared and fully prepared to be yelled at but she simply smiles. 

“I don’t want to spend the whole weekend fighting.” She says, her voice a little wobbly from the liquor. “I missed us.”

“I miss us too.”

And you do. Things have never been easy or smooth between you and Céline, but they were good. You’d fight and make up almost every week, giggling in the dark of her bedroom at night, trading secrets and life stories until you knew more about her than you know of yourself. But this, the girl with pink eyeshadow and sixty dollar french tip manicure, feels like a stranger. A stranger that knows too much, that has seen too much and doesn’t love you enough to not judge you for it. She brings your hand to her lips, pressing a sticky kiss to the back of your hand, and everything is fine. It’s fine. She’s your best friend and her bright pink gloss is now smeared all over the back of your hand and she knows too much and not enough about you. It’s fine. 

The bar is crowded. So crowded that you barely see Oliver waving from a table, both of their hands in the air before either of you notice it. There’s two more people there already, a woman with dark braids so long they hit the swell of her ass, the golden rings weaved into her hair shining against the strobing pink and blue lights that swirl around the room. The other woman is taller, her blond hair gelled and spiked up in a way that makes you think of a pop star from the 90s. The girl with the spiky bun is named Ripley, the one with the braids is Bri, and they both attend the same college as Céline. It’s a mismatched, odd group of people that don’t seem to fit together but clearly do, all of them talking over each other and cackling with jokes that fly right over your head but, unlike when it’d been with just Céline and Oliver, you don’t feel left out— Bri sits next to you and rolls her eyes or explains a joke or two, talking fast and waving her hands a lot, blowing raspberries or booing Céline whenever she says something a little too pretentious. 

Sitting between Ripley and Bri, you feel at home. Like these girls could actually be your friends, welcoming you with honesty and a lot more warmth than your own best friend did. There’s no competition, no baggage with them, just laughing and drinking and trying to hold Ripley’s legs when she decides to dance on top of the table. 

You’re way past drunk when you go into the bathroom stall with Bri. You don’t even know who started it, who pulled who into it but you think she’s way too drunk too, her hands a little sloppy when they sneak under the hem of your dress, her kisses leaving a wet trail down your neck. You lean into it, your hands roaming her shoulders and her sides, but it doesn’t feel right. Your entire body screams at you to get away, to walk from the bar and get in the car and drive back home. 

Home. Not Céline’s apartment, not your house, not your grandmother’s house but that little cabin in the middle of nowhere that has children’s toys scattered everywhere, two pairs of muddy boots by the front door and the strong scent of pine everywhere. 

“I uhm, I—” Whatever you’re about to say is cut off by Bri’s kiss, her soft lips pressing lazily against yours, her kiss tasting of Jack and Coke. Her body fits nicely against yours, her perfume is soft and feminine and her slightly taller height is perfect enough that you don’t need to bend too far backwards to slot your mouth against hers, your shoulders pressing against the bathroom stall when she pulls at your hips, her thigh dragging up between yours. 

Still, everything feels wrong. Not because she’s a stranger, not because you’re way past a reasonable amount of drunk in a dirty bathroom stall miles and miles away from your hometown, not because you’re out of a job and still spending almost thirty dollars for one cocktail with a stolen truck in the parking lot. 

It’s wrong because she’s not Joel. It’s wrong because you’re wearing someone else’s perfume, with someone else between your legs, in a place that you don’t belong with people that you don’t belong to. 

You’re out of the bar before you can even notice. You push Bri away, apologies tumbling out of your mouth that you don’t listen to as you scramble out of the stall and out of the bathroom, wobbling your way out of the bar.

Céline is the one that follows you outside and holds your hair while you retch into the gutter. 

“What happened?” She asks as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, shaking as you lean against Joel’s truck. She’s just as drunk as you are, face flushed and eyes bloodshot. “You pushed Bri so hard she slipped and hit her head on the toilet.” 

You don’t even remember pushing the other woman, all you could think about was getting out. 

“I don—” The words are cut out by a rancid hiccup. “I couldn’t do that— Joel— I can’t do that to him.”

“Joel?” She says the name like it’s rotten in her mouth. “The stalker that you think killed a bunch of people? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

And suddenly Céline’s concern for you twists into something else, something with teeth. You laugh, short and watery before it turns into tears. 

“Oh, I know he killed people. Every one of ‘em.” You sob, shaking your head. You shouldn’t say it, you know you shouldn’t, but the secret that has been bubbling inside of you spills out before you can consider holding back. “Killed his fucking wife too. I ran.” You wave your hand towards the truck, wobbling to the side before you regain a little stability. “Stole his fucking truck and ran. But I miss him. I fuckin’— Fuck. I love him.”

The silence that follows is suffocating. Oliver pokes their head through the door but Céline waves them back inside without taking her eyes off of you. 

“You don’t love him.” She shakes her head. The drunken flush is gone from her face, replaced with a sickly paleness. “You’re just desperate.”

“I love him.” You whine, your breath coming in ragged between the tears. “I do, Cél, I fucking love him so—”

“No, you don’t! You think you do because he’s the first person to look at you twice. I mean, c’mon sweetheart, we both know you’d fuck a horse if it gave you enough attention.”

You can tell she regrets the words as soon as they come out, her breath stuttering as she says your name as if she’s shocked with herself for saying it but you’re not listening anymore. You climb into the truck through the passenger seat, sliding to the driver’s side as Céline begs you not to drive. She’s sorry and you’re both drunk and she doesn’t mean it but you don’t listen. You just rev the engine and speed out of the parking lot.

You don’t go back to Céline’s apartment even though all of your things are still there. The truck swerves dangerously on the highway but you don’t even notice it and, by the seventh time she calls, you throw your phone out of the window— You’re going to fucking regret that in the morning but, right now, you don’t really have a plan of making it to the morning. Your foot is lead on the gas, the motor rattling and shaking as you cut other cars; you turn on the windshield wipers before you realize it’s not raining and that the watery distortion of everything is coming from the tears welling up your eyes. You laugh at yourself and then you cry a little more, your headlights coming dangerously close to the car on your left. The driver honks, loud and long, but you don’t even notice it’s aimed at you. 

You make almost all of the way home. You’re about forty miles from the welcome sign that designates the border of your town when your heel gets stuck underneath the brake pedal— The truck is close to 90mph, the old thing barely hanging on, but the pointer only climbs up in your panic: You floor the gas pedal as you try to pull your other foot from the brake pedal; you look down, trying to figure out what is happening underneath the dashboard, the car swerving harshly to the left, into the woods. 

You barely manage to avoid the first tree, your hands turning the steering wheel this and that way in a blind panic as the car flies off the highway— The front of the truck slams into a large willow tree and the last thing you feel is your face slamming into the dashboard before everything goes dark.

There’s something wet on your face. Soft, wet and warm, running over the side of your face in steady strokes; you try to push it away, even if the feeling isn’t entirely unpleasant, but all your trembling hand finds is soft fur. Something whines and you’re not sure if the noise came from you or not— Your body feels like it’s floating, feverish but cold to the bone at the same time, pain burning everywhere with the sort of intensity that almost makes you numb to it. Your eyes flutter close as you struggle to keep them open, head lolling to the side. You think there’s a grey and brown snout licking at your cheek, but your brain is already giving back into the emptiness.

The next time you wake up, you’re moving. You’re being dragged across the forest ground to be precise, dead leaves and pointy sticks getting stuck to your skin; you flail, panicking at the teeth that cradle on the back of your neck— the pressure is very soft, just enough to hold without hurting, but they’re still there, warm and sharp, spit dribbling down to the front of your neck and down your chest as the thing that is holding you by the back of your neck — the wolf, you know without having to look — drags you through the forest as if you were a misbehaving puppy. 

The jaw around your neck tightens ever so slightly when you flail, just enough to send you spiraling even more, before it drops you down on the ground. You roll, trying to scamper away, but the movement makes you dizzy. The wolf stares at you with blood — your blood — staining all over its mouth and face, from its jaw up to its forehead. It steps forward when you crawl backwards, your pretty dress now ruined, your stomach twisting. 

“Stay the fuck back.” You tell him, scootching backwards until you hit a particularly large tree root. The wolf whines, a pitiful noise that breaks your heart but not your resolve. 

You’ve lost Céline’s borrowed heels at some point and, although it’s not funny, you laugh when you think about how pissed she will be. You stand up slowly, fingers digging into the moss that covers the tree trunk next to you, not even considering all of the creepy crawlies that could be walking all over you— It’s so dark you can barely see, the wolf sitting next to you bathed in moonlight and then oppressing darkness from the forest behind it. 

You stumble and then fall to your knees just two steps away from the wolf, both from the head injury and the alcohol; the animal is on you in a second, big nose insistent and stubborn as it sniffs your face and neck. “Go away.” You say, trying and failing to push him away. “You can’t— No. Go.”

You barely have time to pull your hair out of the way before you puke. Your head is starting to hurt more than it did before, a consistent throbbing behind your eyelids that only gets worse when the wolf sits on his hind legs and howls. 

You’ve seen videos of wolves howling before. You’ve seen it in movies and you’ve read about it and you probably have seen way too many wolf-related TikToks at this point but nothing could prepare you for just how loud the noise is in real life. It’s loud and painful and if you weren’t already crawling on the ground you’d probably would’ve fallen to your knees; the howl reverberates through your core, squeezing your stomach into a tight little ball, goosebumps erupting on your skin. Something feels very, very wrong. 

You wipe your hands on the hem of your dress before bringing them to your face, digging the heels of your palms into your eyes. The already smeared makeup goes inside your eyes and it only makes everything worse, vision blurry and burning as you try and fail not to cry. The wolf pads close to you, slowly and carefully as if he is approaching a wild animal — which, at this point, you might as well be — before curling its big, warm body around yours. 

The wolf smells of Joel and blood, his strong legs pulling you close until you’re enveloped in soft fur and the rumbling underneath his ribcages. You don’t want to, you want to fight and walk away and tell him to fuck off but you lean against his sturdy form anyway, fingers digging into the long fur, your head dropping against his neck. 

Céline is right. Céline is wrong. You’re not certain anymore. Maybe both, maybe neither. You can’t figure out what’s real or what isn’t and maybe you’re still somewhere inside that car, trapped in twisted hot metal as the whole thing goes into flames. Or maybe your brain is swelling and bleeding inside of your head and you’re going to die either way, but this time with a magical wolfman wrapped around you like a pelt.

You blink and perhaps your eyes stay closed for longer than you anticipated because, when they finally open, Tommy is staring at you. He’s crouched about three feet away from you, a flashlight in one hand, the other empty and outstretched towards you. 

The wolf underneath you growls when Tommy’s hand moves closer.

“Yer the one that fuckin’ called me. I can’t help her if I can’t touch her.” He argues back, clearly unfazed by the long and threatening noise your wolf is still emitting. “What happened, sugar?”

“Crashed the truck.” You say, pushing yourself into a sitting position. The wolf moves along, his side still glued to your back. “I think.” 

Tommy pushes the hair away from your face, humming when he brings the flashlight to your forehead. 

“Drinkin’?”

“No.” 

He raises an eyebrow. “I can smell the tequila from a mile away.”

“Then you shouldn’t have asked.” 

Tommy grumbles under his breath but doesn’t say anything else, instead choosing to help you to your feet and then flipping Joel off when the wolf gets in his face about it. 

“You can’t carry her like a damn pup. Just gon’ hurt her more.” Tommy says, hands on his hips. The wolf is taller than him but not by much— The height doesn’t matter, though, because the hulking shape of the wolf should be enough to scare anyone away; not Tommy, it seems, because he rolls his eyes and pushes Joel’s face away like a diver does with a shark. “If you didn’t want my help you shouldn’t have called me.”

“I don’t think I called you.” You say, closing your eyes. Your head is fully pounding now, the migraine settling deep behind your teeth. “I threw my phone out the window a few miles back.”

“Not you. Him. Howlin’ like a hurt puppy to drag me here. Why—” Tommy shook his head. “You know what? Don’t tell me. Let’s just get you home… And maybe to a hospital.”

The wolf growls, still flanking the both of you, his teeth shimmering in the moonlight. 

“No hospital?” You ask, tongue feeling like lead. Nothing about the interaction feels real— The world around you doesn’t feel real, like everything is immaterial, like you’re just floating inside of your head. Like Joel and Tommy and the wolf and the past forty-eight hours aren’t true and have never been. 

You hobble and stumble your way back to the cabin because the wolf refuses to let Tommy carry you and you throw up again while trying to climb onto the animal’s back before giving up and walking on your own. You do the thing Tommy did with the hand to the snout when it tries to grab you by the nape of the neck, pushing his nose away gently. You think you might’ve told him that you’d rather die than get dragged around by the neck but you’re not certain you managed to get the words out. 

You’ve never had a concussion before, but there’s a small part of you that thinks this is what it feels like. 

In the end, the wolf doesn’t let you inside the cabin. It stalks around you and sits in your way and actually tries to bite Tommy when he begins to maneuver you out of the wolf’s way; Tommy on his part cusses him out and complains the entire time about how Joel’s a fucking maniac and a possessive son of a bitch and a goddamn stubborn bastard, but he heeds with caution when he tells you to wait outside, coming around to the back of the cabin with a cardboard box of blankets, a water bottle and a Tylenol, throwing you a ‘good fuckin’ luck’ before he stomps back inside. The wolf noses at your stomach until you plop down on the stairs, leaning against the staircase railing and downing the water while you watch it work. 

You can’t lie to yourself anymore and pretend that this is anything other than a man. He sniffs through the cardboard box before tipping it over and pulling its contents out— It’s not nearly as neat and well made as the nest Joel had made in your living room but you can see it has the same structure, the heavy blankets underneath and the fluffy ones on top. The animal growls, frustrated with himself when his paws and nose don’t seem to work to get it just right and you eventually pad down closer to him, using your opposable thumbs — which you make sure to flex in his face — to fix it into something similar to what you’ve seen before. 

He forces you to lie down, big forehead headbutting you until you fall onto the covers, his warm and fluffy body climbing over yours; there’s a brief moment of panic where you think he’s trying to mount you but then he rolls over, big paws wrapping around you, belly up. You go down far too willingly, Céline’s words replaying in your head as you fist the wolf’s fur, burying your face against his neck. 

You hate yourself for how fucking right she is.

There’s something heavy on your face. You’re laying somewhere too comfortable, warmth surrounding you everywhere, the thing on your face completely covering your eyes— The wolf’s head, you belatedly realize, his jaw shielding your eyes from the morning sun while leaving just enough space for you to breathe; which you can’t do anyway because of the heavy paw weighing down on your chest. You grumble, pushing him away, the sun immediately burning behind your eyelids. 

Tommy is sitting on the staircase, still in his pajamas, a steaming mug in hands and a far too gleeful smile on his face. The wolf is asleep next to you, head rolling to the side when you push him away, dead to the world. You’re not sure how you got here, your memory from the night before fuzzy and painful. You remember the bar, Bri, and Céline— Not much else. 

“Did I—” You shake your head, unwilling to let the words come out of your mouth; it’s not like you can ask Joel’s brother if you committed bestiality in his backyard the night before. Instead, you change course. “What the fuck happened?”

“Don’t think so, I woulda heard if you did.” He answers anyway, his voice lacking any judgement. “How much do you remember? Reckon you got a concussion but there’s only so much medicine I know how to practice.”

“I—” You lick your lips, your mouth dry as cotton. “I got into a fight with my friend. Went to her place in Jackson for the weekend.”

“You crashed the truck. I didn’t see it but I think it was bad, car was on fire by the time I got to it.”

Your hand comes up to touch the side of your face— It throbs a little, but no more than a proper hangover; still, you’re certain he’s right. You’re still in last night's clothes, covered in leaves, mud and dried up blood, and you can already see a particularly dark bruise forming on your shin. Your entire body feels sore, particularly your stomach, and his words bring forth the faint memory of tires screeching and the painful sound of metal twisting into a different, wrong shape.

You eye the mug in his hands, which Tommy promptly hands you. 

“Coffee. Fresh off the pot. I’d invite you in but I reckon he ain’t lettin’ you out of his sight.” 

“Huh.” You say, voice dripping with sarcasm as you stretch towards the coffee. It’s bitter and way too strong for your taste, but it helps settle the nausea. “Wouldn’t it be a nice little party trick if he could just switch back into human form and walk inside his own damn house?”

“That ain’t happening until you’re healed.” Tommy leans on his knees, seriousness thundering over his face. “Your lil’ disappearing act did a number on him. Hasn’t shifted back since he realized you were gone.”

You go silent for a moment, sipping the coffee as you take in Joel’s sleeping form. 

“I assume that’s not normal?”

“Nope. We don’t usually spend that much time in wolf form. Dad warned us not to, said it was dangerous stayin’ as a wild animal for that long. But you could never be sure if the old man was tellin’ the truth about anything.” 

You instantly feel a migraine coming through.

“That’s just fucking great.” Still, despite the bitterness of your words, you can’t help but bring a hand to rub his stomach. The wolf gives a little woof in his sleep, mouth still closed, the sound reverberating from his chest. It’s fucking cute, which is not a word you think should be used to describe a giant killing machine that is still covered in dried blood. “What am I supposed to do? Stay outside until he decides to shift back?” 

Tommy shrugs. “I can bring you some of Sarah’s coloring books.”

You have to bite down on your tongue to resist the urge of barking at him.

As much as it pains you to admit, Sarah’s coloring books do help to distract you. Tommy brings you food and drinks periodically, complaining about having to care for someone that ‘ain’t even his damn mate’, but he also brings you clothes and a coat when it gets a little chilly— The wolf sleeps for most of the day, whining whenever you pull away for too long, and you wonder if he slept at all while you were gone. 

You tell yourself that you stick around mainly because you need to see the moment Joel shifts back. You need proof, irrefutable evidence that you can’t explain away with any ounce of logic other than him truly, absolutely, being a werewolf. 

You get your evidence in the middle of the afternoon. The wolf whines and stir, his paws wiggling a little in his sleep as if he’s dreaming of running; you turn around absentmindedly to scratch his neck when you realize something is wrong. A clump of fur falls off on your hand, sticking to your hand when you try to shake it off— And he’s warm. You’ve noticed he runs hot but this is too much, so hot it makes him a little uncomfortable to the touch. 

You think he’s growling in his sleep at first, lips pulled back as if he’s baring his teeth before you realize that his skin is, in fact, pulling back— Receding into the fur that seems to shed more and more every time you blink, his paws and back twisting and spasming as if he’s about to break. The fur goes away first, some chunks disappearing into his skin, others falling clean off like a young deer shedding its antlers, skin and all; you can see muscles and tendons and veins before the skin grows back, tan and smooth and human. 

There’s a moment in which he looks like a mixture of a Xoloitzcuintle dog and a wolf, as tall and big as human Joel is but still dog-shaped, smooth skin covered in a peach fuzz that sheds every time he spasms. And then the muscles twist and bend and suddenly the wolf is entirely gone, replaced with just Joel, laying on a pile of his own gore. 

It’s stupid, but the first thing you think about is how he somehow got rid of the werewolf chunks from your living room that night. And you’re grateful for it too, because you’re about to either puke or pass out. Maybe both. 

It’s grotesque, and beautiful, and so otherworldly that you can’t do anything other than sit there and stare as Joel’s eyes finally open, hazy at first before consciousness fully sets in. He rolls over, chest heaving, and you pull the corner of the blanket to throw over his very naked waist— You don’t know where Sarah is but you’re fairly certain she’s still inside the house and you think that accidentally seeing her naked bloodied father might not be for the best. 

“Morning.” You say even though it’s well past noon, dropping the electric blue pencil you’d been using to doodle on the margins of the coloring book. Joel raises a hand, nails and cuticles caked with deep red blood, and touches the side of your face; it’s still a little tender but it doesn’t pound anymore and you’re desperately curious to know what you look like. 

And you’re also in desperate need of a shower and a toothbrush. 

“That’s gonna scar.” He says, frowning as he pushes himself onto his elbow. “I’m sorry. There’s only so much I could fix.” 

“Do I look badass or do I look hideous?”

“Beautiful.” Joel says, his voice just a little soft. His hand is warm and clammy, falling from your cheek to your clavicle. “Shoulder healin’ okay?”

You roll your shoulders absentmindedly before shrugging. “I wasn’t even aware it was injured, so I’d say yes.” 

Joel nods once, reaching for the half empty water bottle next to you. His hands shake. “You should go inside. I’ll clean up and be right there.” 

You eye the mess he’s sitting in wearily. “Do you… Uh. Need help or something?”

“No, you can go.” He gives you a wobbly smile, face a little paler than usual and you’re not sure if it’s from shifting back or just exhaustion. Either way, you’re incredibly relieved at not having to mop pieces of werewolf off of the ground.

Whatever you had been expecting, the state of the woman looking back at you in the bathroom mirror is worse than you thought it would be. Your hair is a rat’s nest of loose leaves, knots and dried blood— You pluck a tiny shard of glass when you try to untangle it dry before giving up entirely. The left side of your face is a constellation of tiny scars, light colored freckles that look just a bit irritated, coming from your temple all the way to your chin; it doesn’t look badass or hideous but it surely doesn’t look beautiful. You want to cry over it, but all you can truly do is be grateful that the glass shards that embedded into your skin on impact didn’t hit your eyes. 

Your body is a collection of bruises, scraps and cuts that look a lot older than the sixteen hours they truly are, just as you’re expecting them to be. Your head and shoulders seems to have taken the brunt of it, but there are long and angry scraps on your stomach that mix along with old, faded stretchmarks; you decide to ask Joel if he knows what happened later, but you’re fairly certain you flew through the windshield and it’s a fucking miracle you didn’t break your neck or split your skull open. 

Your mother didn’t have the same luck twenty-something years ago. You can see her wrecked car behind your eyelids as you step into the too-hot shower as if the accident had just happened, the blood on the broken windshield where her body had been, the hood bent upwards— She’d gone halfway through the windshield before a particularly sharp glass shard embedded deep enough to tear her gut open, the top of her head smashed into the hood that had popped open and then flown backwards. You were six years old, and while you hadn’t understood it back then, you know for sure that your grandmother should’ve spared you from the details.

She never spared you from anything, had shown no mercy when you were kept up from nightmares of your mother with her organs falling from the open wound on her torso, the gruesome picture of her neck bent and her brains pouring out whenever you closed your eyes. 

Your legs give under you as you wash the blood away, rivulets trailing down your body and into the drain; you sit there, shampoo on your hair and tears and blood washing down your chest, until the water runs cold. You think the werewolves in the house can hear your sobs even through the spray of the shower, know Joel hears better than most even with his busted eardrum, but nobody knocks on the door or tries to hurry you. You’re alone with your misery for forty-something minutes, knees to your chest and nails digging into your thighs, until the cold water becomes too much to bear on your sore muscles.

Joel is inside by the time you’ve showered, gore rinsed off as he scarves down a giant plate of eggs and bacon; Sarah sits next to him, babbling away, stealing bacon bits from his plate that Joel pretends not to notice. She smiles brightly when you walk in, clad in a pair of Joel’s boxer shorts and a sweatshirt, waving you a slice of bacon. 

“Hi, kiddo.” You say, avoiding the spit-soaked bacon she’s offering you by kissing the top of her head and then moving to the couch. 

“How are you feeling?” Joel asks, eyeing you carefully. 

“Hungover.” You lean back on the couch, bringing your legs up. “And like I flew straight through a windshield.” 

“Glad you think this is funny.”

You curl in on yourself, turning to stare back at the TV— An episode of Clifford is on, muted. 

“I’m sorry about your truck. Is it salvageable?” 

“Fuck the truck.” Joel barks, his eyes wild and burning with anger. “You could’ve died. You would have died if I wasn’t there.” 

Your eyes whip back to Sarah, who offers you another toothy smile before she pipes up with something that sounds remarkably like ‘fuck the truck!’.

“I don’t think we should be having this conversation in front of her.” Your voice wobbles, breaking a little before you swallow it down. You feel like an exposed nerve, like your entire body is made out of open wires and you’re really, really not in the mood for a scolding from a crazed murderer. 

Joel turns back to his meal but his shoulders are tense, hiked up all the way to his ears as he leans forward, elbows on the table and head hanging low. Sarah pats his bicep twice before she shimmies from her chair, padding towards you and climbing onto the couch without a single word. Her lips are greasy when they touch your cheek, and you don’t even notice you’re crying until the action smears your own tears all over your face. 

“You’re sad.” She says, big brown eyes staring at you with a severity that is far too old for her chubby little face. You press a kiss to her forehead, arms wrapping around her and pulling her close. You risk a glance at Joel who is now sitting with his back ramrod straight, still turned away, not eating anymore. 

“I’m okay, pup.” You tell her with a tiny smile. “Just tired.” 

And it’s true— You’re tired of running, tired of fighting back and pretending that this isn’t exactly what you want.

next chapter. (coming soon.)

Think about how, apart from the time he basically hijacked your body, there’s a reasonable and non-supernatural answer to every odd thing that has happened since you met him.

Be so fucking for real right now...

You, more than ever, consider throwing the car straight into a lightpost.

I would too if I was gaslighting myself this badly

“Oh, I know he killed people. Every one of ‘em.” 

Girl, I know we're drunk, but like...please

You barely manage to avoid the first tree, your hands turning the steering wheel this and that way in a blind panic as the car flies off the highway— The front of the truck slams into a large willow tree and the last thing you feel is your face slamming into the dashboard before everything goes dark.

Fox....what are we---no.

The wolf whines, a pitiful noise that breaks your heart but not your resolve. 

Tommy grumbles under his breath but doesn’t say anything else, instead choosing to help you to your feet and then flipping Joel off when the wolf gets in his face about it. 

LOVE this part. Their whole dynamic so far has just been hilarious.

You think you might’ve told him that you’d rather die than get dragged around by the neck but you’re not certain you managed to get the words out. 

BE NICE TO HIM.

using your opposable thumbs — which you make sure to flex in his face

why are we terrorizing this man?? oh my godddd...

there’s a brief moment of panic where you think he’s trying to mount you “Did I—” You shake your head, unwilling to let the words come out of your mouth; it’s not like you can ask Joel’s brother if you committed bestiality in his backyard the night before.

don't even talk to me

Still, despite the bitterness of your words, you can’t help but bring a hand to rub his stomach. The wolf gives a little woof in his sleep, mouth still closed, the sound reverberating from his chest. It’s fucking cute, which is not a word you think should be used to describe a giant killing machine that is still covered in dried blood.

he is the cutest. just love him already!!!!

There’s a moment in which he looks like a mixture of a Xoloitzcuintle dog and a wolf

stop, i'm gonna pee myself

And then the muscles twist and bend and suddenly the wolf is entirely gone, replaced with just Joel, laying on a pile of his own gore.