His Naughty Lessons
Chapter 85: Risqué Escapades

Chapter 85: Risqué Escapades

They didn’t talk again for the rest of the week after that brief call. Eli immediately started using the new codename for Harper’s project — strictly for the private blocks on his calendar that were visible to only himself, of course — and every time the perfect title popped up on his screen, it would bring a smile to his face and remind him to check his phone, in the hopes that Harper would think of something else amazing to ask him or tease him with. Soon, the habit evolved into a constant expecting glance at the blank screen, in frequencies that increased steadily from a few times a day to a few times an hour.

A long four days passed in disappointment though, because of course, a watched phone doesn’t buzz. It wasn’t until he got back to his apartment on Friday evening that he saw a list of missed notifications:

[ Harper: Would you think I’m a chicken if I tell you I’m a bit scared about tmr? ]

[ Harper: I’ve never seen a shop like the one we’re going to. Not in real life at least. ]

[ Harper recalled a message. ]

Interesting. Recalling a message on him? A smile tugged at the corner of Eli’s lips as he immediately texted back: [ What did you delete? ]

Three blinking dots appeared right away. She must’ve been clutching her phone and waiting for his reply — the realization made him feel incredibly flattered, though at the same time, also a bit guilty for making her wait in uncertainty. How could he have missed those messages in the first place? He’d better be checking for her texts even more frequently from now on.

The response came within seconds. [ Nothing. I just made some typos. ]

... This girl was a terrible liar. But the more she was trying to avoid the topic, the more it intrigued, so Eli let his smirk grow as he leaned back in the couch, quickly turning the texts into a real time parley:

[ Eli: I don’t believe you. ]

[ Harper: Really, it was just fat fingers. ]

[ Harper: I told you I’m nervous. ]

[ Harper: And my fingers slip when I’m nervous. ]

[ Eli: I might actually think you’re a chicken if you can’t even tell me what you deleted :) ]

The typing dots on the other side stopped.

Eli watched his phone with amusement. The dots blinked back to life again, paused, and kept reappearing and disappearing for over a minute until it finally turned into text: [ Fine. I said I don’t even own a vibrator. I can’t possibly imagine what it’ll be like to shop at a place like that. ]

Holy shit did this girl know how to tease.

About a thousand ways to respond to that message flew through Eli’s mind, the most tempting one being "why do you need a vibrator when you have me?". But there was a fine line between flirting and ... actually meaning it. A line that he knew he shouldn’t cross.

Before he could manage to pick out a more appropriate response, her next message was already in. [ Anyway, what I’m trying to say is please don’t enjoy it too much while I make a complete idiot out of myself tomorrow. ]

His fingers paused on top of his keyboard.

It was always a bit hard to judge emotions based on words alone, without the context of tones and facial expressions. But from the way she was putting it ... She seemed to sound a bit genuinely nervous.

Was it the shy side of herself peeking out from under that daring facade again? For God’s sake, this was the girl that came up with the Go Deep codename just a few days ago. Could she truly be worried that he might judge her for ... what, being inexperienced in the physical department?

Eli shook his head. The girl had no idea just how sexy she was, especially when she combined that physical inexperience with that not-so-innocent-at-all mind capable of driving any man crazy. But now might not be the best time to tell her that yet. She wanted convincing reassurance at the moment, so he typed instead: [ If it makes you feel any better, I was horrified the first time when I went to those infamous street fests on the west coast. ]

The somewhat embarrassing confession worked immediately, if the speed of Harper’s response was anything to go by.

[ Harper: What? You, out of all people? Horrified?? That’s hard to imagine. ]

[ Harper: What was it like anyway? I heard people wear risqué underwear to those festivals, right on the street. ]

[ Eli: Well, if they wear anything at all, yeah. ]

[ Eli: Most of the time they just walk around naked. ]

[ Harper: What? ]

[ Eli: To show off the things they do to their ... private parts. ]

[ Harper: What??? ]

[ Harper: Do I want to ask what kind of "things" we’re talking about? ]

[ Eli: Whatever you can imagine and more. Tattoos, piercings, chastity belts ... ]

[ Harper: Um ... That sounds ... painful? ]

[ Eli: Yep, don’t ask me to describe them. ]

[ Eli: Certain parts of me are hurting just from thinking about it right now. ]

[ Harper: Oh ... So if you dare make fun of me tomorrow, I’ll know what to buy for you in return :) ]

There, now she was sounding much better.

Eli grinned at the chain of ridiculous messages they had just exchanged. Honestly, he couldn’t believe he was talking to Harper like that. Outside the context of their Saturday night schedules, this was completely inappropriate. But the feeling of easing that anxiousness off of her mind and replacing it with a wicked smile on her face ... was too pleasant for second guessing. Too pleasant that as he reread the last incoming message, he didn’t even cringe from imaginary pain like he thought he might.

On the contrary, he wanted to encourage her. If only to keep her wicked smile going for a bit longer.

So he let his impulses take control and sent a message that he’d probably regret for the rest of his life: [ Like I told you before, you can do whatever you want with me. ]

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