Scandalous/ A Jordan Knight FanFic (18+)✔️

16

Mia

Every one of the text messages I send to Jordan leaves me both excited and worried. They're not fair to Evenly or Cannon, yet I can't stop. Neither of them would understand why we were doing it or the pull that kept us from stopping. I don't even understand it or where this need comes from.

Would we have moved this fast, this soon, under normal circumstances? Never.

Nothing about the way I'm talking to Jordan is normal for me. Even with Cannon, I took a couple of weeks to warm up to the idea of flirting on the phone.

I'm not a prude, just shy until I get to know someone. Somehow, I bypassed that entire stage with Jordan. I'm still crazy nervous when I'm around him, even when I press each key to type out a text, but I do it because of the way it makes me feel—like I'm dancing on hot coals, shuffling around until Jordan puts out the fire.

Only the temperature never cools, and our conversations only grow hotter.

Sitting here, on the floor of my closet, my clit's pulsing, aching for him to flick it with his tongue.

If Evenly or Cannon were to find out about our messages, they'd have every right to be upset. I'd be forced to confess the truth to my husband—that I'd crossed paths with Jordan before we met at the hotel. Even though we'd never spoken before that night, I still felt like I already knew Jordan. Because, in only a few days' time on the beach, we had already been harboring secrets and special glances.

Seeing him, that fantasy came to life. Every look. Every smirk. Every promise of what his smoldering eyes could do for me was real.

Jordan didn't disappoint. Not in bed or on the phone.

And I can't wait to be back in his arms, unleashing a new part of him I won't be able to get enough of.

The last message from him came through over an hour ago, and here I sit, next to a pile of clothing, trying to think of something seductive to say back to him. Something that will keep him turned on and make him want to fuck me—hard. Harder than he's ever fucked his wife.

Picking up my phone, I stare at his last text—the one about fucking my pussy—and my heart races.

"It's now or never, Mia. Just be honest, and tell him what you're thinking," I mumble to myself.

And then I press the keys with a trembling hand.

Mia: My pussy's so wet, you can slip right inside me.

My fingers hover over the Send button, but I go back and forth with myself about actually sending it. It's too much. Too personal. And then I hear the sound of Cannon's voice, and I send it without even thinking, like I'm about to get caught.

"Babe? Where are you?" he says again.

"I'm in here!" I yell with a shaky voice.

I don't know what's worse—the fact that I just texted Jordan or that I sent it to the sound of my husband's voice.

Cannon sticks his head around the corner and takes a look at the heap of clothing I have strewn around the walk-in closet. The mess looks a lot like the inside of my mind.

"Either you're bored or you're mad at me," he says.

"Believe it or not, I didn't throw a single thing." But I did make a mess, and it's going to take another hour to hang everything back up. Cannon knows that when I'm stressed, I reorganize and clean. Even my shoes are all over the place.