number, and I hadn’t thought to use it until now.
I didn’t want to come off as one of those nagging women.
So I’d tamped down my urges and left the phone out of my reach.
Now, though, seemed like an okay time to use it.
I quickly punched out a text and set it on the table.
Casten read the text, and snorted.
Me: Casten won’t let me touch him without your permission.
The phone chimed within thirty seconds.
Mig: That’s because he’s a smart man . What’s wrong with him?
Me: His back hurts . Will you let me massage him?
Mig: As long as you promise to return the favor…only give me the sexier version later when I come to your house.
I smiled and showed him the text, and he got up, shucking his shirt off as he moved to the table.
I barely suppressed the breath of air that my lungs wanted to suck in.
Casten was scarred.
Badly.
My sister would go crazy over him.
She had a thing for wounded souls, and there was no way that with the scars marking his body, that Casten wasn’t a wounded soul.
“What happened?” I asked carefully, picking up a bottle of lotion.
Casten shot me a wary glance.
“Roadside bomb,” he answered shortly, laying onto his belly.
I walked up to the table and was just about to place my hands on Casten’s back, but he jackknifed up off the table.
“I changed my mind. I think he wasn’t being serious about allowing me to get a massage. I don’t want to die,” he said quickly.
“Fine,” I laughed, moving away from him. “I’ll just go play on Facebook while you sit there and hurt.”
Casten snorted and sat up, his face set in a grimace as he did.
I washed my hands free of lotion in the sink, then picked up my phone.
My eyes skimmed over the newsfeed, stopping on a picture of a Spanish hunk.
I don’t care who you are, if you see a sexy picture of a Spanish God on a newsfeed with the caption, ‘Don’t watch this at work’ as the heading, you’re gonna click on it.
I giggled when the man started to speak in Spanish.
I, of course, understood almost instantly what the video was about without even reading the article that was attached to it.
I wouldn’t say I was fluent in Spanish, even though both of my parents were.
But I knew the word for ‘condom.’ ‘sex-ed,’ ‘magnum,’ and ‘erection.’
I mean, didn’t most people?
So without knowing what the entire video was saying, I watched the sexy beast on the screen put on a condom, even though I wasn’t alone in the room.
“Jesus,” I breathed.
The man on the screen had a big dick.
I’m talking huge.
Although, Mig did, too.
Actually, Mig’s cock was probably the same size, if not a small bit larger.
So I watched, captivated, as the man squeezed the condom on over his erection, all the while it never occurred to me once that Casten would be fluent in Spanish and know exactly what was happening on the screen without seeing what was happening.
I watched it two times.
Mostly because I was fascinated with the fact that the guy would do that for a sex-ed class.
Could that be legal?
And would they show that in classrooms?
A noise from across the room had me looking up, not into one pair of amused eyes, but two.
My mouth formed an ‘O.’
“What?” I asked nonchalantly.
“Do you need me to show you how to put on a condom so you don’t have to watch a video?” Casten deadpanned.
Mig growled.
“No, she most certainly does not,” Mig hissed.
Casten snorted. “Then why does she need to watch a video on how to do it? Twice . Shouldn’t her man ,” that part was said with a snide look in Mig’s direction. “Be showing her how to do it?”
Mig flipped Casten off.
And I blushed all the way to my roots.
It never occurred to me that I shouldn’t watch the video.
It was right there, waiting to be watched!
I mean, it wasn’t like I had gone to a porn site and watched a man jack off.
But as I listened to the two of them argue over Mig’s failure to educate me, I rolled my
I didn’t want to come off as one of those nagging women.
So I’d tamped down my urges and left the phone out of my reach.
Now, though, seemed like an okay time to use it.
I quickly punched out a text and set it on the table.
Casten read the text, and snorted.
Me: Casten won’t let me touch him without your permission.
The phone chimed within thirty seconds.
Mig: That’s because he’s a smart man . What’s wrong with him?
Me: His back hurts . Will you let me massage him?
Mig: As long as you promise to return the favor…only give me the sexier version later when I come to your house.
I smiled and showed him the text, and he got up, shucking his shirt off as he moved to the table.
I barely suppressed the breath of air that my lungs wanted to suck in.
Casten was scarred.
Badly.
My sister would go crazy over him.
She had a thing for wounded souls, and there was no way that with the scars marking his body, that Casten wasn’t a wounded soul.
“What happened?” I asked carefully, picking up a bottle of lotion.
Casten shot me a wary glance.
“Roadside bomb,” he answered shortly, laying onto his belly.
I walked up to the table and was just about to place my hands on Casten’s back, but he jackknifed up off the table.
“I changed my mind. I think he wasn’t being serious about allowing me to get a massage. I don’t want to die,” he said quickly.
“Fine,” I laughed, moving away from him. “I’ll just go play on Facebook while you sit there and hurt.”
Casten snorted and sat up, his face set in a grimace as he did.
I washed my hands free of lotion in the sink, then picked up my phone.
My eyes skimmed over the newsfeed, stopping on a picture of a Spanish hunk.
I don’t care who you are, if you see a sexy picture of a Spanish God on a newsfeed with the caption, ‘Don’t watch this at work’ as the heading, you’re gonna click on it.
I giggled when the man started to speak in Spanish.
I, of course, understood almost instantly what the video was about without even reading the article that was attached to it.
I wouldn’t say I was fluent in Spanish, even though both of my parents were.
But I knew the word for ‘condom.’ ‘sex-ed,’ ‘magnum,’ and ‘erection.’
I mean, didn’t most people?
So without knowing what the entire video was saying, I watched the sexy beast on the screen put on a condom, even though I wasn’t alone in the room.
“Jesus,” I breathed.
The man on the screen had a big dick.
I’m talking huge.
Although, Mig did, too.
Actually, Mig’s cock was probably the same size, if not a small bit larger.
So I watched, captivated, as the man squeezed the condom on over his erection, all the while it never occurred to me once that Casten would be fluent in Spanish and know exactly what was happening on the screen without seeing what was happening.
I watched it two times.
Mostly because I was fascinated with the fact that the guy would do that for a sex-ed class.
Could that be legal?
And would they show that in classrooms?
A noise from across the room had me looking up, not into one pair of amused eyes, but two.
My mouth formed an ‘O.’
“What?” I asked nonchalantly.
“Do you need me to show you how to put on a condom so you don’t have to watch a video?” Casten deadpanned.
Mig growled.
“No, she most certainly does not,” Mig hissed.
Casten snorted. “Then why does she need to watch a video on how to do it? Twice . Shouldn’t her man ,” that part was said with a snide look in Mig’s direction. “Be showing her how to do it?”
Mig flipped Casten off.
And I blushed all the way to my roots.
It never occurred to me that I shouldn’t watch the video.
It was right there, waiting to be watched!
I mean, it wasn’t like I had gone to a porn site and watched a man jack off.
But as I listened to the two of them argue over Mig’s failure to educate me, I rolled my
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