It’s been such a long day. Toby’s long gone, but I’m still in my office working on my computer, fleshing out some ideas that I have for ACL for the next half of the season. What can I say? I was inspired. I guess love can do that to a guy.

Yeah, I said it. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what Toby said earlier and my subsequent realization. Layla is perfect for me. There’s no question in my mind now.

Just as I’m about to put the finishing touches on my draft from my brainstorming session, my phone beeps. I pick it up.

Layla.

Tapping on the phone to bring up her text, my eyes practically bulge out of my head.

Oh fuck.

Layla just sexted me with a carefully angled photo of herself. From what I can see she’s on her bed—naked. There's nothing too crazy about it; I can’t actually see anything, but it’s what I can’t see that makes my cock spring to attention.

It’s almost artistic the way she has her arms and legs positioned across her body. And if I’m not mistaken, her hand that disappears just at the bottom of the screen is settled right in between her legs.

I groan as I read her message.

Typing with one hand because the other is busy right now.

This woman. Like I said. Perfect for me.

Sounds hard, I reply.

Pointing my phone down, I snap a picture of my pants, which look like they’re about to be shredded by the massive boner she’s causing.

A minute later there’s another beep.

It is a bit of a sticky situation.

She immediately follows up with a picture of nothing but her fingers—wet and dripping with her juices.

Jesus Christ. I can’t wait another minute. My cock is already throbbing more painfully with every passing second. I quickly whip my dick out and wrap my hand around it, hissing out a breath as I imagine her wet, sticky, cum-coated fingers wrapping around my thick cock.

My cock twitches and I stroke myself, my breath coming faster. With my other hand, I snap another picture of me jerking off and send it to her.

Yeah, yeah, women don’t want to be assaulted with dick pics, right? I call bullshit. Maybe they just haven’t been seeing the right dicks. Because mine right now? It’s thick and swollen and throbbing, the massive head dripping with precum as I continue jerking off to thoughts of Layla’s sweet, sweet pussy. You’re imagining it, aren’t you? Don’t tell me you aren’t. You wish you could see what Layla’s seeing. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t want me to send this to you right now.

That’s what I thought.

Layla’s next text makes me grin.

Are you coming or what?

Coming or cumming? I send back.

The next picture I get from her is all it takes to have hot, sticky jets of cum shooting from my cock in huge spurts.

It’s a full on picture of Layla’s pussy, her fingers sliding inside.

“Fuck,” I grind out. “Layla.” My orgasm rips through me, but it’s not enough. I’m still rock hard. The only thing I need right now is to be deep inside of her.

Cleaning up quickly, I button my pants back up and grab my phone, calling her as I stride out of my office and lock the door behind me. Enough of this sexting shit. I need to hear her voice right the fuck now.

She answers with nothing but breathy pants.

“Layla,” I say. “I’m on my way. Don’t you fucking dare come without me.”

“Too late,” she moans, her words turning into a cry of pleasure that has me feeling slightly crazy.

I get in my car and tear off down the road. She’s still fucking coming. Holy hell.

“Jacob,” she sighs as she comes down from her orgasm, her voice raw from her screams, her heavy breathing urging me on. I’m going way too fast to be safe, but I don’t fucking care.

I need to be inside her. Five minutes ago.

“I told you not to come,” I growl.

She laughs. “I guess if you want to see me come then you’ll just have to make sure I have another orgasm when you get here.”

Now that’s a challenge I’m more than up to.

“Done,” I say. “What are you doing now?”

“I’m licking my cum off my fingers.”

Just. Fuck. I have no words. This woman has to be the most perfect creature I’ve ever met.

“How does it taste?” I croak out.

“Delicious,” she says, her voice low and husky.

“I plan on indulging in it all night long.”

“Promise?” Her voice breaks at the end of the word and she’s breathing faster again.

“Jesus Christ, woman, can’t you wait?”

She laughs. “Nope. I guess I’m a sex-crazed maniac. It’s a problem. I might need help from a sexpert.”

“It’s definitely not a problem. And I’m more than up for the challenge.”

“You better get here fast or you’re going to miss all the fun.” Her next words are lost in the sound of her moans again and the phone beeps three times, indicating the call has ended.

Such a fucking tease.

Then I’m there at her building. I think I made it through the streets of New York in record time. I leave my car on the street and toss my keys to the doorman along with a wad of cash. “Take care of it.”

I enter the elevator and punch the button repeatedly for her floor. The doors slide shut at a snail's pace, and I swear to all that is holy, if this elevator takes another fucking second I might lose my goddamn mind thinking about Layla up there all alone while I’m stuck in here.

Fucking finally, the doors slide open again, and then I’m at her door.