I go crazy 'cause here isn't where I wanna be. And satisfaction feels like a distant memory.

I walked into my flat and dropped the keys on the table by the door, fumbling for the light switch while wondering why I drank so much. I felt sick, like my hangover was coming on strong and I felt alone, almost regretting not bringing the blonde who had been trying all night back home with me. She looked too much like Chloe though. No, that wasn't right. The hair color was right, but everything beyond that? She paled in comparison. Locking the door behind me, I wandered over to the couch and peeled my shirt off before flopping down on it, reaching for the controlled and turning the TV on. Nothing interesting, but too much on my mind anyways. Slipping my phone out of my pocket, I pulled up the text Chloe had sent days ago that I never replied to. I stared at the phone, contemplating calling her before these random words nearly wrote themselves: "I have an up and coming designer interested in you for a campaign. Interested?" 

There wasn't a designer. I mean, when it came down to it, any designer would be thrilled to work with her. But still. 

"Sure," She texted back. A few seconds later, another message coming through: "You could have asked me that at work. At a normal time." 

A chuckle escaped me before I wrote a message and hit send, "Maybe I just wanted to talk to you." 

"You could have just said hi," She responded almost immediately.

I grinned to myself, "Hi."

"Too late," She added a smirky face.

"What are you doing?" I asked, ignoring her insult.

"I just got home.....had a date." 

I groaned and paused for a moment, almost regretting texting her in the first place. What the hell was I doing anyways? My thumb tapped against the phone before I typed again, "How'd it go?" 

"Hard to focus on even the most perfect man when the one that got away won't get out of your head," She admitted after making me wait a minute.

I sighed and dropped the phone on my lap, leaning my head against the couch as I scrubbed my hands over my face. This thing between us wasn't going to end well... it was like we couldn't resist torturing ourselves. "What are you doing right now?" I asked instead of touching on the subject of us. What was there to say? The chemistry was there, yes, but was that enough? I could give a million reasons why we wouldn't work out as a couple when she could give me back maybe five why we would. 

"So we're going to ignore my little confession there? Nice."

"You deserve better," I typed and hit sent, not missing a beat by telling her the same thing I had been for days. I could type the words in my sleep. 

A second later my phone beeped: "I know."

My eyes widened at her agreeing with me. Usually she argued back, maybe she was getting tired of playing this game. "Good," I replied, feeling defeated because honestly? I liked her. Maybe she did deserve better, but did I want her to start dating someone else who could give her better? God, I was a selfish asshole. "What are you doing right now?" I tried again, not wanting to fight with her because she deserved more than that. I closed my eyes for a second before another text came through, a picture of Chloe making a cute face while holding a glass of wine in her hand. I laughed and wished that I was there with her instead of at home aimlessly looking for something half decent to watch on TV. "I hope that's not what you wore on your date," I sent back.

"Ouch. What's wrong with what I'm wearing?!"

I stared at the picture again before replying, my fingers erasing what I wrote a few times before finally hitting send. "I'm getting blueballs just from looking at the picture. I can't imagine having to stare at you all night then going home alone. The poor guy must be suffering."

"These are my pajama's silly man," She texted back. "What I wore on the date was better. ;)" 

I let out a breath, trying not to picture Chloe in a tight dress. "Then he's definitely suffering."

"Well if he has anything in common with you it will take him about 3 more years to actually make a move."

I laughed to myself, "Most men don't have my self control."

"What are you doing?" 

I took a quick picture of me sitting on the couch frowning at the remote control to the TV and hit send. 

"Okay your outfit is WAY worse than mine."

"Maybe you should take your shirt off so we can match ;)" 

"Careful Tristan, this could easily turn into sexting." 

I typed and then deleted what I had typed, repeating that a few more times before finally sending, "....is that so bad?" 

"No but my vibrator is all the way on the other side of the apartment and I'm so comfortable on the couch." 

Closing my eyes, I groaned and instantly the image of Chloe on my desk appeared. I'd watched her touch herself before... and god, I was getting hard just thinking about it. 

"Too much info?" She wrote back when I said nothing.

I grinned to myself and contemplated my words before typing to her, "Come over."

"So the sexting could turn into a bootycall? I don't think so ;)"

I laughed and shook my head, leaning back on the couch and looking from my phone to my erection and back to my phone again. "Again, is that so bad?" I asked, knowing that it would be. She wanted more than a quickie and honestly, I wanted to give her more... but fuck this was all so damn confusing. 

"Tristan..."

I sighed and imagined her on her couch, the vulnerable Chloe - not the vixen who waited in my office wearing skimpy lingerie. There were two versions of her, making her the whole package, the perfect woman. "You put the thought in my head..." I sent then added, "Can't get it out of my mind now."  

"What thought is that?" She asked back and I could picture her smirking to herself.

"The way you looked on my desk, rubbing your clit and moaning my name."

"I've done that on your kitchen counter too," She replied while my mind led back to that moment, it playing like a movie in my head. 

"Best thing that's ever happened in my kitchen. ;)" 

"I'm doing it now too," She texted back and I about died, tempted to ask for a picture but I'm sure that would only lead me right to her doorstep.

"Damn it Chloe," I wrote back and kept typing. "What are you thinking?" 

"I'm wishing you were here telling me what to do. Looking at me like you do when you want to devour me," She admitted seriously. 

"Fuck," I both wrote and said out loud. "Are you wet for me?" 

"Very," Came her response and I closed my eyes again, imagining the way she looked on my desk... on my kitchen counter... how fucking sweet she tasted. 

"You're killing me," I sent her and groaned to myself.

Her message took longer than the others, still not long but enough to leave me guessing what she was doing. I was an idiot for still sitting on my couch and not jumping up and running over to her house. "Am I making you hard?" She sent finally before adding a smirk. I could picture her with her legs open, rolling her clit between her fingers and biting down on her lip to suppress her moans. 

"Always," I wrote back and grinned to myself, taking a deep breath and then sending her a picture of the tent my jeans was making. A second later she sent me a picture of her thong on the floor and I groaned even louder. "Why aren't you in the picture?"

"Why aren't you here? My fingers don't compare..."

I watched as she kept typing, but not sending whatever was on her mind. I felt like I was going fucking crazy. I pushed my jeans off and kicked them aside, sending her another picture, this time of my briefs and the outline of my rock hard dick. "Come over," I added.

"Tristan o.o" I moaned and arched my hips against my hand.

"Come. Over," I said again, watching her type before my phone started ringing, her picture appearing on the screen. "Chloe..." 

She moaned, "It's hard to type with one hand." 

I groaned, knowing exactly what she was doing but wanting her to tell me. "What are you doing?" 

"Wishing I was there to peel off your briefs and sink down onto you," She moaned after she spoke. "What about you?"

"Wishing the same thing," I admitted, speaking through my teeth.

"Or I could kneel in front of you and use my mouth first....I do owe you that," She said and I could hear the smile in her voice. 

"Your mouth should be illegal Chloe," I growled.

"Just my mouth?" She moaned a little louder.

I let out the breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding, "Tell me what you're doing."

"I'm trying to hold out..." She said in a breathy voice, driving me fucking insane. 

A grin played on my lips as I leaned back on the couch and kicked my feet up on the table, my dick aching to bury itself inside of her. "Let me hear you cum," I said slowly, reaching down to adjust myself. 

"Won't you cum with me?" She asked in a pouty voice, making me imagine her lips pursed together.

Closing my eyes, I pushed my briefs down and took my dick in my hand, "How many fingers do you have inside of you?"

She let out a sigh-like moan, "Two..."

I groaned while I moved my hand up and down, feeling my dick growing in my hand, "Add another. You have no idea how hard I am right now... much bigger than two of your little fingers."

"Bigger than three too," She said under her breath, letting out a moan that just about killed me.

"It will have to do," I said in a low amused tone.

"You barely fit inside of me but you feel so good..." She whimpered, reminding me of how good she felt.

I started stoking myself faster, "Fuck." 

"I'm gonna cum Tristan...."

"With me," I growled and kept a steady pace, the image of her body on top of me playing in my head over and over again. 

"God I wish I was watching you," She admitted, cursing under her breath as her panting continued.

My hips bucked up on their own, almost like I'd been too lost in my own thoughts to realize that she wasn't really there. "How many fingers?" I asked again but she didn't answer, not unless moaning counted. "Chloe... wait for me," I said in a low voice, leaning back on the couch and watching my hand move up and down at an increasing speed, her moans only fueling me on. 

"Tristan..." She trailed off and gasped, moaning more.

"Wait," I licked my lips, my mouth so dry. 

A loud moan rang through the receiver and my name kept falling from her lips, over and over again. I cussed to myself, so fucking turned on. "Oh my god..." She breathed out. "Cum for me... please..."

I groaned and kept my eyes closed, listening to her breaths and knowing that she was still touching herself. I parted my lips but couldn't speak, too focused on making myself cum, too busy thinking about the last time I'd seen her naked, how sweet she tasted when I made her cum and licked her up. "Fuck," I growled, cumming and wishing like hell it was inside of her. 

"Damn I wish you were really here," She breathed out. 

"That makes two of us." 

"Probably for the best you're not. I have to be able to walk a runway this weekend and you being here now? Would probably make that hard for me."

I laughed, "You're right about that." Not that it would stop me. "I thought you weren't doing fashion week this year." 

"I booked a couple shows. Not for the whole week, just the weekend. A wise man told me it would be bad for my career to just drop off the face of the planet for school."

"Smart man. So you'll be in New York?"

"I leave on Friday and I'll be back on Tuesday," She replied, the conversation flowing effortlessly even if it wasn't about sex. "Will you be there for any of it?" 

I reached for my boxers and cleaned myself up, standing up and walking to my bedroom naked. I needed to shower and sleep. It'd been a long week and I felt drained. "No," I told her and tossed the boxers into the dirty clothes hamper. 

"Right. Avoid those events at all cost, right?" She replied and I could hear the smirk in her tone.

"You're catching on quickly," I joked back since as much as I hated those kinds of things? Sometimes I had to go just to be seen, keep myself relevant. 

"Maybe when I get back..." She started and trailed off, making me imagine her sitting there, not knowing what to say next. She put herself out there constantly and it was killing me to shut her down time after time.

"Dinner?" I suggested, running a hand through my hair.

"I'd like that," She said with a more hopeful tone. 

I grinned to myself, "What are your plans for the rest of the night?"

"I think I'll get back to my glass of wine and watch something on TV. I'm in the mood for a chick flick."

I laughed again and started collecting clean clothes to wear once I got out of the shower, "Sounds thrilling. The life of a model. Shouldn't you be out at a club, celebrating fashion week?"

"Mmm, maybe, but you've been to one you've been to them all."

"Don't turn into a recluse like me, I can get away with it, you need to be seen." 

"I think at this point in my career having a little mystery about me might be a good thing," She said slowly. Plus all the hottest guys are staying home too."

"I'm a bad influence on you," I chuckled. 

"I've never made myself cum that hard," She whispered softly. 

I groaned, "Chloe..." 

"Mmm," Was all that she said back. 

"I'm going to go shower now. Can't bring the phone with me," I told her with equal parts frustrated and amused.

"Have fun with that." 

"Goodnight Chloe."

"Night."