“So you’re learning.” He chuckles. “Good.”
I nibble on my lip. My panties rest right beside my foot. I’m tempted to put them back on, because what are we doing right now?
“Why’d you call?” I ask, my voice lower than before.
He makes a noise that resembles a hum. “I was arguing with myself…”
My brows dip with confusion. “About?”
“Whether or not I should continue texting you or video-call you.”
I adjust the phone against my ear. “But you didn’t video-call me.”
“I know.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Because if I see you in my bed, I might be tempted to book a red-eye back to Chicago."
A smile refuses to leave my face. “That would be crazy.”
He scoffs through the phone, his voice echoing. “That’s sort of what you do to me, Reese. You make me want crazy things, and I find myself doing crazy things just to talk to you, or see you smile, or…”
His voice trails, and I swallow.
“Or what?” I whisper.
“Or touch you,” he answers. “It wasn’t my plan to cross the line last night after helping you with your shoes. I just couldn’t seem to help it.”
I bite the inside of my cheek while my head runs circles. I’m clinging to his every word like it's a cure to every one of my problems.
“I can’t help it either,” I admit. “Do you think I want to be lying here in your bed, desperate for your attention? It makes me feel weak…and needy.” I laugh sarcastically. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
He’s quick to respond. “There isn’t a single thing wrong with you.”
“I don’t know about that–”
He cuts me off. “I like you like this.”
Butterflies pull on every single string of my heart.
“I like you needy,” he says. “I like you desperate for my attention too.”
I think back to every time I’ve been called desperate or needy, and a sense of hurt comes with it. It was depicted as a negative thing from not only my parents but boyfriends too. Especially Benedict.
“I can’t get you out of my head, especially knowing you’re in my bed, desperate for my touch.” He makes a noise that sounds a lot like a groan. “It’s a turn-on, Reese.”
A shaky breath leaves me, but I say nothing.
“That noise too,” he whispers. “A total fucking tease.”
“All I did was breathe,” I argue.
“Exactly.”
I laugh, but it’s breathy. He makes another noise of satisfaction, and my skin heats.
“Tell me you’re as desperate for me as I am for you.”
