My Second Chance at Love

The first snap

Andrew’s POV…

Once we get to Orlando and check into the junk ass hotel our Foreman picked, I unpack. I don’t know why I do this, but I do. I refuse to live out of a suitcase for more than two weeks. I then go to the bed. I jerk the blanket and sheet back. These nasty ass hotels require quick checks to make sure they are actually clean. I untuck the sheet from the bottom of the mattress. I can’t stand for it to be tucked in.

When this is all done, I grab my phone. She hasn’t said anything to me, but why would she? She responded last. Damn, porn. I never thought about how watching a little porn here or there might affect a girl. Was it just a little porn or was it a lot?

I open Snapchat and start to smile. I know that she’s only seen me in a bar with a hat and a button down shirt and some jeans but I’m already ready for bed. I’ve got on my basketball shorts and no shirt. I don’t know how she would respond. I’m a big hairy guy. I’m not ripped but I can climb up a power pole, grab an unconscious man, and climb down carrying his body. I’m massive. I go for it. I flex my shoulders just a little, give her a little wink, and snap the picture. I caption it with, “hey beautiful.”

I send it before I can change my mind. s**t! She opened it. I wait. And wait. Damn Emma you know how to mess with a man.

I take another pic. This one of my shoulder and half my face. It’s clear that I’m in a hotel. I caption it with, “you’re supposed to snap back. I’m waiting.”

Come on Emma! s**t she opened that one too. Hell! She sent me a snap! Oh s**t! I don’t know if I’m ready. I open it and I lose my breath. If I thought she was beautiful last night, she utterly perfect tonight. She is in an apartment bedroom. It looks like she’s just finished making the bed in the background. She has all her hair on top of her head. I don’t think she has a bit of makeup on and I can see bare shoulder and neck. s**t! I’m f**king hard already. Dammit. She’s smiling a sweet little smile at me and looks like she’s rolling her eyes. Her caption is, “there, I responded.”

I’m so f**ked. I immediately send her one back with my chin tilted up like I’m trying to look beneath the camera line. “Whatcha wearin?”

Immediate response. s**t. She’s gonna play. Tomorrow is gonna be a long ass day but I don’t give a damn. I open it and bust out laughing, but upon further inspection I realize that there is nothing to laugh at. She has on hot pink plaid pajama pants that look to be two sizes too big. They’re tied up and hanging low on her perfect hips. She has on a white spaghetti strap that’s a smidge too short so I can see about three inches of skin but that isn’t what gets me. She doesn’t have on a bra and I can clearly see her perfect ni**les. I only thought I was hard before. Her caption is, “just pjs”

Lucky pjs I think to myself. I rub my hand down my face and snap a picture while doing so. I caption it with, “damn girl, you’re killing me. You make pjs look f**kin sexy as hell. Downright sinful.”

Her response is immediate again. It’s a closeup of her face and she’s so pink. I’ve embarrassed her. s**t it’s so cute. “STOP” is all she says. Hell naw. She’s gonna know before I go back home exactly how hot she is.

I smirk. I know exactly what I’m gonna do. I snap her a picture of my smirk. “I didn’t see the back of those pjs” I respond.

Bam there’s the red square I need to see. I click on it and she’s now laying on her belly on the bed. The phone is propped on her bare shoulder and she sent me a picture down her body of her backside. “See? The same on the back as they are in the front.”

How does an ass look better in hot pink plaid than it does wrapped like a glove in denim? That’s not possible.

I smile so big and send her a picture of it. “Nice ass, I mean pjs”

The red square comes back and this time I’m graced with the pink cheeks and holy hell there’s cleavage at the bottom of my screen. Her caption is, “it’s a big ass”

Big? Like fat? Nope. It’s perfect. I bet it would fit so good against me. I bet it would feel so good as I ground into her. Damn, now I’m pissed. Why would she think her ass is big? s**t most women want a big ass.

I frown and scowl at the same time. I snap that and send it to her. “No. Don’t talk about that ass like that. It’s my favorite ass and as such, I don’t allow anyone to talk bad about it.”

All I can think is if she can’t understand I’ll come smack that ass until she believes everything I tell her.

She responds with a very dramatic eye roll video, “not your ass.”

Shit. It’s not mine but I want it to be. Where did this even come from?

I bite my lip and snap a picture, “if I make you moan my name, can I call it my ass?”

Her response hits me in the balls, her lips have formed a flat line and she looks annoyed and sad all at the same time. “I’ve never moaned anyone’s name. Why do you think you can change that?”

Oh so it’s a dare. I give an almost full flex of my shoulders capturing most of one and my face in the snap. My face has the most cocky smirk plastered on it and I caption it, “oh I don’t think I can, I know it.”

I’m loving this s**t but I want to hear her voice. I click her name on Snapchat and click to video chat with her. I hope she picks up.

She does and she’s laying in her bed. Her cheeks are so red. “Uh huh… didn’t think I’d call your ass and make you face me, huh?” I ask her. She just drops her head and my screen is filled with her hair. I hear her snickering. She tilts her head back up and full on smiles at me. “So what, you’re gonna call me and tell me how you plan to make me moan your name?” She asks.

“Nah, that’s for at least tomorrow night,” I reply. “I just wanted to hear your voice and see your face.”

“Where even are you?” She begins to realize I’m in a hotel.

“I see you didn’t notice my surroundings in my snaps. What were you focused on?” I laugh at the red coming back to her perfect face. “I’m in Orlando for work. I’ll be here 18 days then I’ll come back home.”

“Oh. Do you do that all the time?” She asks. “ I mean go off for work?”

“Yeah. I work about three weeks then I’m off for a little over one. Last night was my last night home.”