“Keep going,” I tell her.
“I can’t.”
“You can.”
She whimpers but continues rubbing, pushing herself beyond sensitivity while I listen to every tremor moving through her.
“Come with me,” I demand.
“You’re close?”
“Yeah.”
“Then let me hear you.”
The sound of her voice demanding my surrender finishes me. I come with her name forced through my teeth, heat spilling across my stomach while my fist keeps moving until pleasure turns almost painful. I make no attempt to swallow the groan she dragged from my chest or conceal how completely the sound of her pleasure dismantled my control.
For several seconds, neither of us speaks. Only our breathing exists between Milwaukee and Michigan.
I let my head fall against the wall and keep the phone near enough to hear the small movements of Charm settling into her bed.
“That was irresponsible,” she murmurs.
“You mailed me a sexual ranking system.”
“You called me and immediately ordered me to spread my legs.”
“You obeyed.”
“I also told you when to come.”
A stunned laugh breaks out of me. “You certainly fucking did.”
Her own laughter emerges weak and satisfied. “I missed you being insufferable.”
“I missed you pretending you don’t like it.”
“I have never pretended convincingly.”
“No.”
The silence returns, softer now. I clean my stomach with the shirt lying beside me and listen while she adjusts the jersey over her body.
“That was different,” she says.
“From what?”
“The calls when you were with the Frost.”
I remember every one of them. Charm whispering beneath her blankets while I lay inside an apartment on the compound, both of us desperate for whatever intimacy distance allowed us to steal. She wanted me then, but uncertainty remained inside every request. She would say something filthy and immediately laugh, soften it, or wait for me to prove I liked that part of her too.
“How was it different?” I ask.
“I didn’t worry about what I sounded like.”
“I noticed.”
“I didn’t wonder whether I wanted too much or sounded desperate. I needed you, so I told you what I needed.”