Christa Wick
Sexting Curves
Major Logan Jones opened the front door of his three-bedroom ranch before I landed my first knock. Surprised, I glanced at my watch. "I'm not late, am I?"
The major is very particular about people being on time. After five plus years of babysitting his son Stevie, I still had a clean record. Working a summer job at a downtown office, however, meant that I had been cutting it close all summer long.
"No, I heard you pull up." Taking a step back, he opened the door wider and motioned me inside.
I passed him in the hall, my thick hips and the narrow space conspiring to force the brief rub of my body against his. A familiar heat flared along the surface of my skin. My nipples puckered, the sensation triggering an outbreak of goose bumps and wet need.
Continuing down the hall, I rubbed at my arms, hoping my body would behave before the major noticed his effect on me. Not that he ever has — I've been nursing a crush on him since I started babysitting Stevie over five years ago. He has remained blissfully ignorant even when my body's reaction to him kicked into high gear after Mrs. Jones ran off to parts unknown in search of her "true self."
Ugh…Mrs. Jones.
I'm pretty certain her true self is some kind of dumb ass space alien because Stevie is the cutest little bug I've ever babysat and the major is the sexiest thing on two legs. Logan is tall and lean, with muscles so big it would take both my hands to circle one of his biceps. Add to that intense fuck-me eyes, finely chiseled features accentuated by the military cut of his dark ash brown hair, and a mouth that looks like it could melt an iceberg and my pussy is instantly soaked when he's around. Hell, even when he's wearing his ACUs, he's hot as sin. Pour him into a tight t-shirt and a pair of jeans and I'm ready to pop.
I also love how protective he is. Not just with Stevie, but with everyone he thinks of as his extended family — including me. Since he isn't overbearing, it's a complete turn on knowing he has my back.
Ready to leave, the major interrupted my reverie before I had a chance to drift into a middle-of-the-day, full-on wet dream and embarrass myself.
"I'll be home by midnight." He reached into his pocket, pulled out his cell phone and started tapping at the screen. Half a second later my phone buzzed in my purse. "Just sent you another number to call if you have trouble reaching me. Building I'll be at is a bit of a black hole for signal reception."
"Okay." I watched him move through the front room to retrieve his gear. Another shiver ran across my skin when he bent over to grab his backpack. Seeing that tight ass, I wanted to step behind him, press my hips against it and run my hands up his sides before reaching around front and palming his dick.
"No visitors."
Snapping back to reality a second time, I nodded. It's the same discussion every time. He means "no boys." Like I could possibly be interested in someone else or stupid enough to invite them to the major's home.