Why the hell would he do that? Ignoring the fact that it was a jerk move to begin with, it didn’t take a genius to realize that sending an unsolicited dick pic to the man who was essentially his employer was the epitome of unprofessional.

Micah fumbled with the phone. Maybe by some miracle, it hadn’t sent. Reception in his apartment was sometimes spotty. But, of course, the state-of-the-art iPhone Damon had given him for work purposes (not sexting purposes, you moron!), had had no issues sending the picture message.

Worse, it had already been “seen”.

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. There was no taking it back now.

Grabbing a towel from the bathroom, Micah quickly cleaned himself up from the… activities he’d been partaking in only moments before. He shucked off the underwear and pulled back on his shorts. Then he began pacing his apartment. (Unfortunately, it wasn’t a large enough space for it to be very satisfying, but Micah’s nerves wouldn’t allow him to sit still.)

He couldn’t help but think what Damon’s reaction must have been to receiving the photo. Had he been shocked? Annoyed that Micah was blurring the lines between business and pleasure yet again? Maybe even disgusted?

Or… had the man liked it? Like he’d admitted to liking the sight of Micah in a schoolgirl skirt?

Was it wrong that Micah felt arousal stirring in his nether regions again?

Fuck! Get it together!

Damon already thinks you’re a prostitute. Is it that big of a deal if he thinks you’re a slut, too? I mean, judging by the fact you’re already half-hard again, you kind of are.

“Shut up,” Micah muttered to himself.

As much as Micah wanted Damon to ignore the inappropriate photo he’d sent, the longer he went without getting a reply, the more out of control Micah felt.

Was relocating to Mexico an overreaction or a legitimate response to what he’d done?

Upwards of twenty minutes later, it was almost a relief when he heard the phone buzz across the room from where he was standing in the kitchen, shoveling chocolate ice cream into his mouth straight from the carton. (He was a comfort eater, okay?)

Forcing himself to walk over to the phone and face the consequences of his actions, Micah picked up the device and reluctantly swiped open the message from Damon.

It’s not your turn to ask a question.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Micah hadn’t known how to respond to Damon’s message, and the man hadn’t followed it up with any more texts, so he just… didn’t.

His first instinct after reading the message had been… that’s it?

Micah supposed he had expected more of a reaction to the lurid photo. Was Damon mad? Upset?