Chapter Twenty-Two
TWENTY-TWO
Micah
When I see a Scribble Share notification on my phone, I’m instantly smiling. My stomach does a familiar flip as I pull up the app and see a new message from ShakespeareInLust.
Sitting on the couch, I let out a squeal when I read his compliments on my writing and his encouragement to post it. The nerves that were swirling through me ever since I sent him my writing ease and turn warm. It’s not that I thought he’d be mean, even if he didn’t like my writing. He’s been so sweet and supportive so far, and I knew he’d react kindly, regardless if he liked or not.
But to see him get this excited and rave about it was a total surprise. The best surprise.
I quickly type a response.
Hot4Hermia: You really think so? You’re not just being polite?
I head to the kitchen to pour myself a glass of wine. When I’m back on the couch, I pick up the remote, turn on the TV, and try to find something good to watch this Sunday night. My phone buzzes with an alert. I set the remote down and swipe it from the coffee table.
I grin when I see it’s a message from ShakespeareInLust. I’m surprised he answered so quickly. I figured since it’s Saturday night, he’d be busy.
ShakespeareInLust: Come on, Hermia. You think I’d do you dirty like that? Of course I think you’re that good. You’re incredible.
Hot4Hermia: I’m officially blushing. Thank you. I’ll think about posting some fanfic then.
ShakespeareInLust: Nope. Not good enough. You gotta post. ASAP.
Hot4Hermia: LOL I’m nervous though…
ShakespeareInLust: Okay, how about this? If your post isn’t a hit with readers, I’ll do something super embarrassing.
Hot4Hermia: Hmm, now that’s a tempting offer…
ShakespeareInLust: You choose the embarrassing thing and I’ll do it.
ShakespeareInLust: What’ll it be? Drunk dialing my boss? Streaking through my neighborhood?
Hot4Hermia: Okay well, since you put it out there, I’ll take the streaking
ShakespeareInLust: Deal! Now post that fanfic ;)
As I navigate through the app, I’m smiling so wide my cheeks are starting to ache. He’s the sweetest.
Butterflies flutter in my stomach. I can’t remember the last time I had such a fun and flirty conversation with someone.
Don’t get too carried away and make up some romantic fantasy in your head, Micah. He’s just a charming stranger on an app. Don’t let it mean anything more than that.
I pull up a new post and paste the text of my flash fiction piece into it. And then I take a deep breath and post it.
A wave of nerves and excitement crashes through me. I did it. I published my writing on a public platform. Even if no one reads it or likes it, I did it. I didn’t let my fear and anxiety get the best of me.
I navigate back to my chat with ShakespeareInLust.
Hot4Hermia: Okay! I did it!
ShakespeareInLust: Hell yeah!! Way to go!
ShakespeareInLust: I just left a comment on it and tagged it as one of my top recommended posts :)
ShakespeareInLust: People are going to lose their minds over your writing, Hermia. Just wait and see ;)
Hot4Hermia: You really think so?
ShakespeareInLust: I know so :) I’m so proud of you for doing this.
Warmth pools in my chest. He doesn’t even know me, and he believes in my writing that much.
Hot4Hermia: That means everything, truly. Thank you.
ShakespeareInLust: Always here to pump you up :)
ShakespeareInLust: I hope you make the time to write again soon. I want to read more of your work!
Just then an idea hits.
Hot4Hermia: I think I’m going to write some more tonight actually.
ShakespeareInLust: Really? That’s awesome!
Hot4Hermia: Yeah. Inspiration is hitting hard :)
ShakespeareInLust: I’ll stop messaging you then so you can get down to business :)
Hot4Hermia: Will you post again soon? I’m dying for more of your fanfic!
ShakespeareInLust: Absolutely!
Hot4Hermia: Yay! Happy writing, ShakespeareInLust!
ShakespeareInLust: Happy writing to you too, Hermia!
I turn off the TV and grab my laptop. My fingers fly across the keyboard as another fun and filthy fanfic idea swirls around in my brain…inspired by my hookup with Aidan.
A weird tension works its way through my body as I type. I can’t stand him, but there’s no denying he was the hottest sexual experience of my life. I may as well write about it.
I change some key identifying details to make sure that no one would be able to identify him or me.
Not like Aidan will ever read this. I’d bet anything his pretentious self wouldn’t be caught dead reading steamy romance.
When I finish, I skim through what I’ve written. I smile. Wow. It’s honestly pretty good. And hot.
“Don’t move.” I cup my hand over my skirt, right on the mound of my pussy.
I watch as he immediately stills. His crystal-blue gaze falls between my legs. A hard swallow moves down along his thick, stubbled throat.
I rest my other hand on my breast and squeeze.
His gaze flits to my chest, then back down to my pussy, like he can’t decide where he wants to look.
I still can’t believe we’re doing this. We’re in the storage closet down the hall from our offices. We’re right across from a classroom full of people.
If one person walks by and hears us, if someone opens the storage room door, it’s over. We’d be caught. And fired.
My clit jumps against my palm. I have to hold back a moan.
Something about that is so thrilling though. It turns me on even more.
I narrow my gaze at the handsome, infuriating man standing just inches from me, taking me in with a hungry gaze.
I’ve hated him since the first moment I met him. Our first conversation was an argument in the middle of a staff meeting, when he made a quip about my credentials. It’s been a full-out war since then.
Every day we toss dirty looks back and forth. We trade snide comments like we’re opponents in a match, trying to wear the other down.
Today things reached a head. He walked behind me, caught a glimpse of my computer screen, and made fun of my lesson plan.
In that moment, I had had it.
I looked at him and said the most outrageous thing I could think of.
“You don’t have to keep playing these childish games. You know you want to fuck me. Just say so.”
He stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes wide as he gawked at me.
“You’re right. I do want to fuck you. So bad.”
I was floored. I couldn’t believe it. I was shocked…and intrigued. And I thought maybe this is what we need to resolve the tension between us once and for all.
One hate fuck to get it out of our systems.
Sweat beads along the back of my neck in this stuffy storage room. I fix my gaze on him.
“I mean it,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “If you so much as reach for me, I’ll stop everything, get dressed, and leave.”
He frowns but nods. He understands.
I see his hand twitch at his side, like he’s trying to keep from touching me. I smile. He just can’t help himself.
“Ready?” I ask.
“Yes.” He speaks through gritted teeth.
“Tell me again what we agreed to.” I slip my hand down my skirt and into my panties.
His Adam’s apple moves with a single swallow. His pale skin glows red. Everything from his face to his toned chest flushes crimson.
“I get to watch first,” he says, his voice guttural. “Then I can go down on you, when you tell me to.”
“Good.” I shut my eyes and focus on the waves of cool air coming from the vents above us. Each burst of air that hits my skin feels like heaven. I slide my fingers through my wet folds. I tap my middle finger against my clit and moan. So warm and wet.
I swirl my finger in tiny circles. A strangled gasp leaves his mouth.
I open my eyes and pin him with my gaze.
“You have to be quiet,” I say in a breathy voice.
Heat flashes in his eyes. He looks pissed and turned on. He nods.
I smirk. It’s heaven tormenting him like this, making him watch, knowing every muscle in his body is aching to ravage me.
As I work my pussy and my tits in my hands, the pleasure inside of me builds. My mouth falls open as I let out a ragged breath.
I watch him watch me. I spot the unmistakable bulge of his hard cock in his pants. His hands are balled into fists at his sides, and his knuckles are stark white with how hard he’s gripping. Every muscle in his jaw bulges through his peaches-and-cream skin. If the AC weren’t going right now, I bet I could hear him grinding his teeth in aroused frustration.
My gaze falls between his legs once more. His pants do little to mask the hard angle underneath. He’s barely hanging on by a thread.
I tilt my head to the side with a soft whimper. I relish this feeling, knowing I’m making him this hot.
He can’t stand me, but he’s so turned on by me that he’s about to lose his mind.
My fingers work at a frenzied pace. My breathing becomes more labored and desperate. It’s only been a couple of minutes, but I won’t last much longer.
I force myself to drop my hand from my body. My legs are shaking, I’m so tense from pleasure.
I look him square in the eye as I catch my breath.
His chest heaves as he slashes his tongue along the seam of his lips. His pupils are completely blown out, ringed in ice blue.
“Can I?” he rasps. “Please?”
I nod.
He steps up to me and drops to his knees. He pushes my skirt up, hooks his finger over the crotch of my panties, and yanks it to the side. The second his mouth is on my pussy, my jaw plummets to the floor. I have to clamp my hand over my mouth, I’m moaning so hard.
His tongue swirls around my clit, the heat and pressure winding tighter inside of me. My heart races and my skin burns hot.
Holy hell, his tongue…it’s like a shower massager… How is he this good?
The heat builds, then crests. When my climax crashes over me, I’m cursing and moaning into my own hand. My legs tremble, but he holds me up, his mouth and tongue working me over. When I start to come down, I drop my hands from my mouth and gasp for air.
I glance down, annoyed and amused when I see that smug smile.
“Still hate me?” he asks.
“Of course I do. Now bend me over and fuck me against that wall.”
He grins. “Gladly.”
It’s not till I finish reading it that I realize just how hard I’m breathing…and how wet I am between my legs.
I touch a hand to my face. Whoa. My skin is fiery hot. I shake my head and laugh, embarrassed. Is it normal to turn yourself on like this with your own writing?
I was going to send it to ShakespeareInLust first to get his opinion on it, but now I’m not sure if that’s a good idea. I mean, he writes steamy stuff too…but I doubt his steamy stuff is based on the filthy things he got up to in real life, unlike me.
I hop up from the couch and get ready for bed. The whole time, I wonder if I should even send it to him.
When I crawl into bed, I set my phone on the nightstand. I’m about to turn out the light when I think Screw it . We both write steamy stuff. He doesn’t know this is based on something I did in my real life. He’ll just think I have a filthy imagination, just like him. I grab my phone and send what I wrote to him.
Hey! Here’s my latest! I know we both write steamy stuff, but be warned, this is extra steamy haha. Happy reading :)
And then I set my phone to vibrate, turn off the light, and burrow into the covers, hoping I haven’t weirded him out.