IRL: In Real Life (After Oscar, #1)(7)

“Starve and go naked at the very least,” she said with a wink. “I’ll bring you coffee when it’s ready.”

The moment she closed the door, I rushed to the desk for my phone. I checked my texts before anything else and felt a stab of disappointment. Nothing from NotSam. But had I really expected anything? He’d been drunk. Sure, I’d made sure he was sober when he came, but still, it was easier to be bold in the safe darkness of night. With the sunrise often came regret.

I frowned. I didn’t like the thought of him feeling guilt over what we’d done. I thought about texting, checking in. Making sure he was okay. I reasoned it was what I’d do with anyone I slept with. Especially someone I pushed out of their comfort zone like I had with him.

I hadn’t realized how long I stood there debating the point until a calendar reminder about the morning’s meeting buzzed my phone. I needed to stop thinking about the stranger and focus on work. I made my way to the private bathroom hidden by a discreet panel in one of the interior walls.

I showered quickly, successfully avoiding any thoughts of the stranger until I was standing in front of the sink with a towel wrapped around my waist, getting ready to shave. My cell buzzed with an incoming text and I immediately reached for it, smiling at the familiar name on the screen.

NotSam: I… I don’t really know what to say. I thought you were the bartender from the hotel. I’m so sorry. I don’t usually do things like that.





Ah, so that explained it. My grin grew as I read the words again.

Wells: How did you realize I wasn’t your bartender?





NotSam: Your photo. You were wearing a suit.





My stranger was smart and perceptive. I liked learning that about him.

Wells: Indeed I was. Were you disappointed?





The three moving dots flashed on the screen for longer than it should have taken to respond. I found myself frowning. I hadn’t expected it to be a difficult question to answer. Finally, the words appeared.

NotSam: No. It was hot as hell.





My heart rate kicked up. My throbbing cock starting to thicken.

Wells: Are you prepared for your presentation today?





NotSam: You remembered?





I smiled. Of course I had. Everything about him had been impossible to forget.

Wells: I did.





NotSam: I’m really nervous. There was supposed to be someone going with me but I just got a text that he’ll be late which means I have to do it alone and… I’m just a little overwhelmed. Shouldn’t have had the mocha latte at Starbucks. Now I’m jittery too.





The words surprised me. That he would be so open, so vulnerable, with someone he barely knew. The desire to protect him flared to life in my chest again. I wanted to make it better for him.

Wells: Where are you?





NotSam: Lobby men’s room of the building where the presentation is. My hands are shaking, and I feel like I’m going to throw up. The last time I was in New York, I was ten and my church choir visited St. Patricks Cathedral. I ate a hot dog from a street vendor and puked on the ferry. What if I do it again?





I snorted, but my heart went out to the guy. He needed to get out of his head. I glanced at the time on the screen and saw I still had twenty minutes until my own meeting. What I should have done was wished him luck, put the phone down, and concentrated on shaving and getting ready. But then his next text came through.

NotSam: God, why did I even send that? You don’t care. Sorry. I ramble when I’m nervous.





I responded without thinking.

Wells: I do care.





And I realized it was true. But I didn’t want to linger on the thought, so I quickly added:

Wells: Listen to me. Go into a stall and lock the door.





While I waited for him to do what I’d asked, I ran my thumb around the head of my cock, letting my fingers dance across the stiffening flesh.

NotSam: Okay?





Wells: Close the toilet seat and sit down. I want you to unzip your pants.





I imagined him hesitating. I guessed the delay in his response was him trying to decide whether to comply or ask what I had planned for him. I grinned, waiting to see which he’d choose.

NotSam: Now what?





My cock jumped at his compliance. It appeared he was a people pleaser, something that made me like him even more. My head exploded with thoughts of all the things I wanted to tell him to do. All the ways I could ask him to touch himself… touch me. I wished I knew what he looked like so I could imagine his face flushed with the desire to please me.

Wells: Stroke your cock. Block everything out of your head except for me. Do what I say.





I closed my fingers around my own cock as I waited for his response.

NotSam: Fuck, someone just came in.





Wells: Don’t stop. Ignore them.





NotSam: They can hear me breathing. Fuck.





I smiled, picturing his discomfort. Knowing that he wouldn’t stop because he wouldn’t want to disappoint me.