Page 16 of Sweet (Chicago Underground 7)
“No, I’m just…I’m dying to feel you.”
The edge of erotic desperation in his voice lent me courage. It made me want to poke and prod him, to touch him the only way I could—with words.
“So you want to feel me here? Are you sure? It’s very slippery. Warm and wet.”
His groan was raw and beautiful.
“I can’t stay still here, just rubbing and searching out something—” My breath caught as my fingers stumbled upon my clit. “Until there.”
“Rub yourself off. Do it, Rose.”
And yes, so much. I moaned my compliance, my fingers working furiously at my warm, liquid sex. Each flick of my finger sent a thrum of pleasure through my body.
My arousal spiraled higher, drawing up every nerve and tightening every muscle. I felt stretched to the limit and yet unable to break. Held in suspension, I could only tremble senseless fingers against the bundle of pleasure-pain, could only gasp incoherently into the phone.
It was only when I heard those quiet, unmistakable, rhythmic sounds as he stroked himself, as I felt the vibrations of his grunt of release, that I tumbled over, fell apart, and came in a soft gush of wetness against my palm.
“Oh God,” I panted. “Oh God.”
“Rose,” he said, more like an exhale.
“We’re really going to do this, aren’t we?”
“Do what?”
Have sex. Start a relationship. Be together. Why did that make hot tears spring to my eyes?
I tried for casual. “Keep this a secret.”
He gave a long and satisfied sigh, a rough-hewn sound of sex-sated invincibility. “Who said we’d keep hiding? Though I hope you aren’t too attached to my nose looking this way, whenever your brother does find out.”
“He won’t punch you. He won’t.” Though I wasn’t sure who I was trying to convince.
“I’m sure hoping he does. The alternative is worse. Don’t stress about that.”
“Oh sure. I might die but don’t worry, he says.”
“Do you trust me?”
Like a gust of fresh autumn wind, the question stole my breath and rendered me compliant all at once. I trusted him. At a base and carnal level, I lusted after his body, his mind. I wanted to spend time with him, to learn everything about him. But overshadowing all of that was a blanket of clouds, the trust in him I took for granted.
Did I trust him? For always. Forever.
“Yeah.” My voice sounded as low and broken as his. “I do.”
His satisfaction swelled in the air through the phone. “I have to stop by to finish some paperwork in a couple days. Maybe I’ll see you.”
Oh hell yes. “Maybe.”
I heard the smile in his voice. “Good night.”
“Night.”
The phone was slick with cooling sweat when I dropped it on the end table. Phone sex. That was new. Not entirely unexpected, though. He was like that. Adventurous and exciting without the undercurrent of danger that I had once been accustomed to.
It was a novel idea, that I could have fun without risk. That I could be with someone and still feel safe.
I’m dying to feel you, he’d said. I was too, and the plunge felt so sweet.
