Elise sat in her office on Monday morning, going over her schedule. As a speech therapist, she saw all different kinds of patients—from young children to adults, from those who had had traumatic brain injuries to those who had had strokes. But one of the nice things was that she saw her patients routinely. She really got to know them and could find out the best way to help because everyone was different, and what might work with one patient might not work with the next.
She was just finishing up some notes and had about fifteen minutes before her first patient arrived when her phone buzzed.
Unknown number: How was the rest of your weekend?
Elise: Who is this?
Unknown number: Sex God, giver of orgasms.
Elise rolled her eyes, laughed, and added the number to her Contacts.
Elise: Charlie Hunnam, you know who I am?
Luke: Ha-ha. You know this is Luke.
Elise: Oh, I do, huh?
Luke: Who else made you come multiple times this weekend?
She considered pretending like he wasn’t the only one she’d slept with just to tease him but went a different route instead.
Elise: Maybe I was faking it.
Elise frowned again.
Elise: What’s so funny about that?
Luke: Baby, there is *no way* you were faking it.
Elise: Maybe I’m that good of an actress.
Luke: Nobody’s that good. You might have pretended with other guys, but I know you didn’t with me. You can moan and throw your head back like a good actress would, but there is no faking the way your face flushed as you climaxed or the way you scrunched up your nose right before you came or how you were so wet that it coated your thighs. And there is definitely no faking the way your pussy milked my fucking cock like it was holding on for dear life. Nobody is that good.
Elise looked around her empty office, as if someone might see his text message. It was absurd because there was no one in the room, much less someone looking over her shoulder. Even though she was alone, her face flushed from his words, and she was squirming in her chair because, now, she was thoroughly aroused. At work, of all places.
Elise: I’m not sleeping with you again.
Luke: Ha-ha-ha. I don’t recall asking you.
She’d just been put in her place. Just because he’d turned her on didn’t mean that he had meant to do it on purpose. And it didn’t mean he wanted to do anything about it.
Elise: You’re right. How did you get my number, btw?
Luke: I asked Sean. I told him I needed to get ahold of you because you left something behind on Friday.
He added a bikini emoji, which she took to stand for the underwear she’d lost at his house. Her face got warm again, but she ignored the missing panties situation.
If he didn’t want to sleep with her again, why had he texted her?
Elise: What did you need then?
Luke: I just wanted to see how you were doing after Friday night/Saturday morning?
Aw, that was kind of sweet of him.
Elise: I’m fine.
Luke: You don’t hate me?
Elise: No. I was just as much responsible as you were. I don’t blame you.
Elise: Plus, I went to church on Sunday and cleansed my soul.
Luke: Ha-ha. Good to know.
She looked up to see her coworker Lora standing in her doorway. She quickly set her phone facedown on her desk. Lora wasn’t her boss—she was another speech therapist—but Elise was still new, and she didn’t want anyone to think she was slacking off when she should be working.
“Your eight a.m. is here,” Lora said with a smile.
“Okay, thank you.”
Lora turned and walked away, and Elise picked up her phone. Luke had texted her while she wasn’t looking.
Luke: I’ll be sure to dirty it again.
She forgot what they’d been talking about. And, while she should be telling him she had to go, she was too curious not to ask. Thankfully, she still had seven minutes before it was actually eight o’clock.
Elise: Dirty what?
Luke: Your soul.
Luke: Oh, I have to run. Duty calls.
Wait! Elise thought.
Elise: Wait. I thought you didn’t want to sleep with me again?
Luke: When did I ever say that?
Luke: Now, I really gotta go, babe. We’ll finish this later.
Elise waited, but there were no more texts. Yes, he said he had to go, but that was before he left her with such an opened ended question. How could he leave her hanging like that?
She shouldn’t care because when she’d said she wasn’t sleeping with him again, she’d meant it. Yet she wanted him to text her again.
She sent a quick reply, threw her phone in her purse, and grabbed her first patient’s folder before heading for the waiting room. She loved her career and usually lost herself in her work.
But, today, she couldn’t help wondering if she wasn’t in just a fair bit of trouble where Luke was concerned.
Luke finished up his last report before signing off the computer. It had been a long day at work. He was tired, and he couldn’t wait to go home. He knew he wasn’t original in his pain, but he hated Mondays. Sundays were worse, but thankfully, he hadn’t worked the day before.
He packed up his things and got ready to leave for the rest of the afternoon. He shut his locker door and headed for the parking lot. As he walked, he pulled out his phone.
After texting back and forth that morning with Elise, he’d been so busy that he didn’t have time to check it all day. Not even at lunch, which had consisted of standing in the break room, shoveling as much food into his mouth as he could in less than ten minutes.
He was beat and hungry, but as soon as he pulled out his phone and saw what Elise had texted him after he had to go this morning, it made him smile.
Elise: Just like a man to start something and not finish it.
He hadn’t meant to start anything this a.m. when he sent her the first message. In fact, he hadn’t even meant to flirt. It’d just happened. When he was young, his mother repeatedly told him that he was a natural-born flirt, and he often thought she was onto something there. Besides, flirting was just flirting. It didn’t mean anything was going to go beyond that.
Luke: Ouch. My poor manly pride is ruined.
He didn’t think she’d reply right away, but she must be near her phone because, a minute later, his phone beeped.
Elise: “Ladies, if a man says he will fix it, he will. There’s no need to remind him every six months about it.”
If the meme fits…
He threw his head back and laughed.
Luke: Now, I’m offended for the whole male population.
Elise: Hey, there are a ton of those out there, so it must be true.
Luke got in his SUV but had to reply before he drove off.
Luke: You might think we’re lazy, but we’re actually smart. It’s called strategy, baby. If we pretend not to be able to do something, we know you women will get frustrated and do it for us.
Elise: I knew it! My college boyfriend was the worst when it came to doing the laundry. He even shrank my favorite sweater. I finally told him to stop and let me do it. I always suspected it was a ploy.
Luke remembered the guy Elise had dated in college. What a tool.
Luke: What a dick.
Elise: What can you do? Men suck.
Luke: We don’t suck; we lick. You’re the one who sucks.
As far as replies went, he knew it was pretty cheesy and immature, but he couldn’t resist. He’d been thinking about how Elise had sucked all weekend, and he couldn’t get it off his mind.
Elise: Real smooth, Lucas.
Luke: Had to be done.
Luke: Off work now. Have to drive home. Talk later?
Luke sat and stared at his phone, actually worried she’d say no.
Elise: Sure. Later.
Luke threw his phone on the passenger seat and shifted into drive, all the while grinning from ear to ear. He couldn’t wait to see what she would have to say next.