My arousal suddenly took a back seat, but when I lifted my cell phone and saw a number flash across the screen, the name Seth in bold letters above that, all I could imagine was him punching his number into my cell earlier today.
I licked my lips, the need building up almost forcefully once more.
Should I answer?
Let it go to voice mail?
No, I wanted to hear his voice.
I needed to.
I pushed the answer button and raised the phone to my ear. I attempted to control my breathing, but I had a feeling he’d be able to tell exactly what effect he had on me even if it was through the phone. “Hello?” My voice was a little shaky, and I licked my lips and pushed myself up on the bed, leaning against the wall so my legs hung off the side.
“Grace.” He murmured my name so quietly, his voice nearly a husky growl. It seemed as if mentioning my name provided him enormous pleasure. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”
I shook my head, then remembered he couldn’t see me. “No, I was awake.”
And about to touch myself to the thought of you.
I heard shuffling on the other end, almost as if he was moving against sheets.
Was he in bed?
I didn’t know why that astonished me. It was late. But then I thought about him sleeping in the bed where I had slept, his muscular, lean form taking up a lot of the mattress, his sheer bulk making me feel so feminine and little.
“It’s late, but I needed to hear your voice. I needed to make sure you were okay after everything we’d discussed, after I told you how I felt.”
My entire body got hot, my arousal growing even higher at just the sound of his voice. “I’m okay,” I muttered.
“Good.” He stated that one word like his only interest was my well- being. That’s how I felt when he looked at me, when he spoke those incredibly intimate, life-changing things to me. “The last thing I want is for what I said to make you uncomfortable or afraid.”
“No, being afraid is the last thing I feel.” God, could he detect how thick my voice had gotten, that my want was right there at the surface? I found myself lying back on the bed, staring at my ceiling again, thinking about how this would all play out.
“Tell me what you’re thinking about,” he murmured deeply, a sound that had my entire body becoming even more awake.
I started rubbing my legs back and forth against each other, my cheap cotton sheets appearing almost like silk as they slipped against my flesh. Every part of me was on edge, ultrasensitive, and I knew if he was here, touching me, I would go off like a rocket.
“I’m not thinking of anything,” I murmured, my voice hardly more than a whisper.
“You’re lying.” His voice was dark… excited.
Was that what I heard when he talked, that wicked purr mixed within his voice that had me behaving out of character as I moved my hand down my tummy and fumbled with the button of my pants? I was very moist, my panties becoming soaked as my desire intensified.
“Tell me, Grace,” he demanded gently. “Tell me what you’re thinking about right now.”
I sucked in a gasp, the way he said leading me to feel so much passion I couldn’t even think straight, couldn’t breathe. But what I did know was that I wanted to tell him exactly what I was thinking … exactly what I was doing. “I’m thinking about how all of this is kind of crazy and unbelievable, how my professor told me he wanted me and I don’t know how to think about all of that.”
“But how do you feel? How do I make you feel, Grace?”
My mouth felt so dry. “You make me feel…” God, could I actually say the words? “You make me feel alive.” There, they were out there.
“What else, baby?” He had a groan laced with those words, and the endearment had my clit tingling.
I wanted to touch myself so terribly.
No.
I wanted him to touch me.
