Page 17 of The Sugar Maple Inn

WildTrailGuide: Stay there. Breathe. Nothing more.

AutumnDreams87: …this is ridiculous.

WildTrailGuide: No. This is me taking control so you don’t have to feel ridiculous. And you like it otherwise you’d have logged off by now.

A pause, then her next message flashed.

AutumnDreams87: I hope you’re touching yourself too.

His breath caught. He pushed his hand beneath his waistband.

WildTrailGuide: Yep. Matching you. Imagining your fingers around the base of my cock, like I want you to imagine my fingers on you. Remember, you don’t move without me.

The dots blinked again.

AutumnDreams87: …and if I do?

Reese’s grin deepened.

WildTrailGuide: Then I make you start over. Ready?

AutumnDreams87: Ready.

WildTrailGuide: Start moving your finger. Circling.

No answer.

WildTrailGuide: Tell me what you’re doing.

AutumnDreams87: I’m circling my clit. I can’t believe I just wrote that.

A low sound escaped Reese’s mouth. He pulled himself out and stroked once, slow, hand tightening, his head tipping back against the leather seat as a groan rumbled from his chest.

WildTrailGuide: Press harder. A little faster. Stay with me.

The dots blinked, stopped, blinked again.

WildTrailGuide: Feel it building?

AutumnDreams87: Ah-huh.

WildTrailGuide: Good. Wanna go faster?

AutumnDreams87: Yes, faster.

WildTrailGuide: Say please.

AutumnDreams87: Please.

His strokes quickened, harder now, body taut. He typed with his spare hand:

WildTrailGuide: Now stop.

AutumnDreams87: Please, no.

WildTrailGuide: Yes.

AutumnDreams87: Are you stopping?