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I had my fingers on that stiff little clit. Now pick a safeword, or I’ll pick one 4 u.
    She glared at the reply. So much for his bloody playful side. Then another dialogue box popped up on his side of the screen and she glared at her phone hard enough to melt the damn SIM card.
    How about PantsOnFire? That fits on a number of levels.
    She texted back, indignation staining her cheeks.
    STOP bullying me!
    Then STOP kidding yourself. You’re primed and ready & you know it. MORE than ready. But the safeword comes B4 u do. That’s the deal. Take it or leave it.
    Her fingers stilled on the phone. He’d given her the opt-out clause she’d been looking for. She could end this right here, right now. After a quick grope in a restaurant and some playful sexting. No harm done.
    But as soon as the thought entered her head, she knew she wasn’t going to do it. She wanted what he was offering. The chance to be a purely sexual being, to fly out of her comfort zone and experience the wild, heady thrill she’d been on the verge of at the rehearsal dinner. For one night only. She owed it to herself—and her stiff little clit.
    Yes, Connor McCoy was an unknown entity—a man with dark passions that he had no qualms about pursuing. But wasn’t that all part of his attraction? And so far, he hadn’t done anything that she hadn’t enjoyed. A lot.
    Plus there was no danger of her falling for him, however much she might enjoy flirting and sexting—and eventually even shagging him. They weren’t friends—which meant they could never be lovers. Not in the true sense of the word.
    OK, I want 2 take it. But I have some questions first.
    Three question marks popped up in reply. Simple, honest and direct. Just like Connor. Her heartbeat ticked into her throat, the anticipation, the thrill of the forbidden making her giddy.
    Do all the women u sleep with need to have a safeword?
    It was a personal question, one she wasn’t sure she had a right to ask.
    No. But U do.
    She frowned, vaguely insulted by the instant response. How much of a coward did he think she was? Did he think she wasn’t sexually adventurous enough to handle him? Like his legion of other women? And exactly how many other women were there? Surely she had a right to know?
    I wasn’t talking about me. I want 2 know about the other women you’ve slept with. EG: 1) How many of them r there? (ballpark figure will do) 2) Do u always dominate? 3) Y?
    1. No comment 2. Yes 3. It’s HOT
    Frustration tightened her throat. He hadn’t answered a single one of her damn questions. Time to play hardball.
    Y No Comment? R there so many u can’t remember the number?
    The ten-second delay for a response had her holding her breath.
    I remember just fine…But I want 2 have sex with u, not hire u 2 write my biography. & FYI you’re the only woman I’m sleeping with ATM. If u EVER pick a damn safeword, that is!!!!!
    From the number of exclamation marks, she got the definite impression she was frustrating him. Well, same goes, buster. Her exhilaration increased until it was all but cutting off her air supply.
    How about DICKHEAD?? That seems appropriate ATM!!!
    She relished the rich spurt of adrenaline as she hit Send—and the accelerated tingling in her bottom at the thought that she’d provoked him deliberately. And she was actually looking forward not just to his response, but to the tantalising retribution he might devise.
    Jeez, was she secretly as kinky as he was?
    DICKHEAD it is. But I’m gonna make u eat that particular safeword @ sum point 2 keep that potty mouth of yours busy. U have been WARNED.
    A wave of heat crested at the thought of sucking off his awesome cock—while on her knees, in her maid of honour gown—promptly followed by a wave of mortification.
    Bloody hell, if she wasn’t as kinky as him, she soon would be if she wasn’t very careful.
    Another message flashed up on his side.
    Gotta go. Hard-ons R bad 4 business meetings. C u @ the church on Sat. & remember.