She set her fork down. “Wait, really?”
“Well, yeah.” He ran his hand over the back of his neck. He was so bad at the serious talks with his sister. “If that guy would make you happy, who cares if he’s a few years older than you?”
She snorted. Yeah, afewyears. “That’s good advice, Grant. Thanks.”
“Now can we please talk about anything other than relationship stuff?”
“Oh, yes, please.”
Reagan spent time playing cards with her brother before he had to go to bed. He was up so early in the mornings that he was wiped out by nine-thirty. The mechanic shop he worked for opened at seven every day of the week, and Grant got off at four. He ate dinner early and went to bed early, and it occurred to her that maybe his hours had something to do with not finding a woman.
Reagan made sure the apartment was in order before she went to her room for the night. She hated cleaning, which one look at her room could attest, but she wouldn't make it harder on Grant to have her home. She didn't pick up the clothes or towels off the floor of her room, though. He wouldn't go in her room, and she’d clean it before she left again.
With a pulse of anticipation in her belly she picked up her phone and called Hudson.
“Hey, beautiful.”
She smiled as she sat on her bed. “Hello.”
“What are you doing right now?”
She thought about it for a second. “Wanting you.”
His breath came more loudly in her ear. “Shit. You have no idea how much I want you right now.”
“Mmm. As badly as I want you . . . right here between my legs.” She thought he stopped breathing altogether as she said the words.
“Now what are you doing?” he asked, his voice a lower octave than normal.
“Touching myself.” She moved her hand, cradling the phone to her shoulder as she did exactly what she said. One hand smoothed over her breast while the other stroked over her sleep pants.
“God damn, Reagan.” There was a moan, and she just knew he was palming his erection.
“Are you hard for me?” She kept her voice down. Despite being positive that Grant was asleep, she wasn’t taking any chances.
“So hard.”
“So hot, babe.” Reagan shifted and slipped her hand under her flannel pants. She was wet, wishing it was Hudson’s fingers, and wondering if she could actually get off with him over the phone.
“Are you touching that pussy, Reagan? I remember how soaked you get for me.” His panting breaths were breaking up his words and sending her closer to the edge.
“Yes,” she drew out the word as she flicked at her clit. “I wish I could see that massive cock. Watch it disappear inside me.”
He groaned long and loud. “Fuck.”
“Are you close, Hudson?” She was met with the sounds of his breathing and figured that was a yes. “It’s not the same without you here. My fingers aren’t good enough anymore. I need you to say something to me.”
“I want . . .” He gulped in a breath and tried again. “I want to eat that pussy, Reagan. I want to bury my face it, lick you until you scream. I want to fuck you with my tongue and then fill you with my cock.”
“Yes.” She whimpered as she pictured what he described. “Yes.” She was close, moving her finger faster and pinching her nipple harder.
“So close.”
“Come for me, Hudson.God.”
“I—”
He didn't finish his sentence, but Reagan was positive he had finished something. “Oh. I want what you said.”
