Right Man, Right Time (The Vancouver Agitators, #3)(88)

“Bet you he says something like . . . I wish I could taste your fingers.”

“Oh, that’s hot.”

“That’s because Silas is hot,” I say as I swipe to see the text message. Clearing my throat, I read it out loud. “Hope it was a pleasurable . . . time. What?”

“That’s what he said?” Ross winces. “Ooof, that’s brutal. It’s like your crazy uncle accidentally received the text, and instead of making you feel bad, he tried to help a girl out.”

I study the text, confused. “I really expected him to say more.”

“Maybe you scared him away with the fingering.”

I give Ross a death stare. “I did not scare him away. Maybe he just needs a touch more pushing.” I crack my fingers and say, “Watch a master at work.”





**SILAS**





“It’s not my fault,” Posey says while slipping his briefs on under his towel. “I told you I didn’t want to be a part of this. I’ve expended all my helpfulness to Hornsby. That took it out of me.”

“That was months ago. Don’t you recharge?”

“I’m not a fucking battery.”

My phone beeps, and before I can even consider looking at the text, Posey swipes it out of my hand.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Stealing this nightmare from you so you don’t embarrass yourself even more.” He opens the text and then grips the side of his locker while coughing.

“What? What did she say?”

“Holy shit.” He looks up at me and points the screen at me to read.

Ollie: It would have been more pleasurable if you were here to lick my arousal off my fingers. I just had to do it for you.

Fuck . . .

“Dude . . .” Posey is speechless, and that’s saying something. “What the hell did you get yourself into?”

“I fucking told you. She’s torturing me.”

“You need a good response.”

“I fucking know.” I try to take the phone back, but Posey keeps it.

“I’ll type it out, you nimrod. We don’t need any mistakes this time.”

“What are you going to say?”

“Uh, what we’re both thinking.” Going to the emoji, he double-taps on the eggplant emoji, and before I can stop him, he sends it.

“Dude!” I snag the phone away. “Two eggplant emoji? She’s trying to dirty talk, and you give her two eggplant emoji?”

“That is dirty talking. She got two penises to rise at the same time.”

I give him a stern look. “Don’t fucking bone out over my girl.”

“Ha.” He points at me. “You said my girl.”

“Urggh, I fucking hate you right now.”





**OLLIE**





Ding.

“I don’t want to know what he says. I’m still shook that you said you would taste your own fingers.” Ross leans forward. “Who the hell says that?”

“Me, that’s who,” I say as I swipe open his response. When two eggplant emoji pop up, I groan out loud.

“Was that a sexual groan or an irritated groan? I honestly can’t tell at this point.”

“Irritated.” I show him Silas’s response.

“Eggplant emoji? What is he, freaking sixteen? That boy has no class.”

“He has class,” I say as I clutch the necklace he gave me today. “I just think . . . maybe he’s trying to hold back or something.”

“Frankly, I’m embarrassed for him. What’s he going to do next? Text water droplets.”

Ding.

We both look at each other. “If that’s water droplets, I’m going to kick a wall,” I say.

Together, we look down at the screen to find two eggplants . . . and two water droplets.

“Dear God,” Ross whispers.





**SILAS**





“You fucking moron!” I say while whacking Posey with his own towel.

“What? Water droplets are in.”

“They’re not in,” I say defeatedly as I toss his towel to the floor. “Jesus fuck, what have you done?”

“Spared you the humiliation of saying something stupid.”

“Spared me?” I guffaw. “You made this worse.”

“How so? In a subtle way, I told her you were turned on. Can’t get any better than that. Trust me, it works.”

“Yeah, where’s your proof? I don’t see you walking around with a girlfriend.”

“Hey, you’re the one who asked me for help. If you didn’t think I was qualified, you never should have confided in me.”

“Obviously,” I reply as my phone dings. Posey reaches for it, but I swat his hand away. “Get the fuck away.”

I turn my back toward him and open the text.

It’s a picture of Ollie, showing off her cleavage, the necklaces I gave her on full display. I wet my lips as I stare at it for a few seconds, taking in every last bit of her from her full lips to her gorgeous eyes to her ample tits that I got to suck on last night . . .

My phone is ripped from my hands, and Posey is staring at the photo. “Holy shit,” he says.