“Okay,” she huffed as she bounced onto the bed and in line with her laptop’s camera.

Alejandro groaned. That soft, fluttery gray silk was a robe draped over Deja’s obviously naked body. He swallowed the swig of beer in his mouth and licked his lips at the sight of her adorably perky breasts moving freely underneath that slip of fabric. He was especially interested in the way her nipples disturbed the drape of the silk. He took another sip of beer.

Deja was sitting in front of her laptop with crossed legs, and the robe, unfortunately, covered her sex, but much like the sway of her breasts, there was something so erotic about seeing her but not seeing her. If this was his reward for her being a few seconds late, he would have waited an hour for this, not that he wanted to.

But then he started to feel terrible. “I’m underdressed,” he mumbled.

Deja squinted at the screen and then tapped at her keyboard. Alejandro watched an adorable smile form on her face, and then her chest swayed softly with laughter. “I’d say you’re overdressed.”

He looked down at the basic black trackpants and white t-shirt, for all intents and purposes his uniform when he was home and didn’t have to dress up to teach or go to a meeting or to impress Deja.

“I didn’t know what to wear to a Skype sex date.”

“Me either,” she said as her hands moved to the belted knot at her waist.

Alejandro’s hand tightened around the bottle of beer as he watched her elegant fingers deftly and slowly undo the scrap of silk and slide up the lapels of her robe to pull it open. Just that flash of her chest made all the blood in Alejandro’s body rush determinedly toward his dick.

“I thought naked made the most sense,” she said, pulling her robe over her shoulders to pool at her waist.

He nodded numbly, even though his dick was very aware of her. “Yeah. I should have thought of that.”

Deja licked her lips slowly. “You can always catch up.”

Alejandro’s eyes widened, and he spilled his laptop onto his bed in the rush to stand. He accidentally slammed his beer down on his desk, and it foamed up the spout. “Shit,” he said, looking around for a towel. He didn’t have one, so he ripped his shirt from his body and sopped up the liquid — it was coming off anyway — and threw it in the laundry basket.

Deja’s giggle filtered into his bedroom, and for a second, Alejandro imagined that she was there with him.

“You’ve got a great ceiling.”

“Shit. Sorry,” he said, righting the camera so she could see him.