She stared at the phone. Chewed her lip.
Her finger trembled as it hovered over the green button, heart pounding like a drum in her chest. But the way he asked, well told her—“Put the phone on speaker. I need to hear you.”—something about it made her feel brave.
She tappedCalland brought the phone close, switching to speaker and laying it on the pillow beside her.
It only had half a ring.
Then—
“Hey, baby,” Dylan said, voice low and warm, rough like gravel and sleep. Like she’d dragged him out of a dream where he had his mouth on her and didn’t want to let go.
Ali’s whole body shivered.
“Hi,” she whispered.
Silence settled for a moment— thick, intimate, crackling with want.
“You touching yourself, baby?” he asked.
Her thighs clenched. She shook her head instinctively, then realized how pointless it was.
“Not yet,” she breathed.
“Why the hell not?” His voice dipped, deeper now. Slower. That Southern rasp curling around every word like heat off pavement. “You just told me you were thinking about the wall again. Don’t you want to feel good?”
“I do…”
“Then let me show you how good you can make yourself feel.”
Ali exhaled shakily, her body already buzzing just from the sound of him.
“Take your shirt off,” he said. “Now.”
She obeyed, sliding her hands under the hem and tugging it over her head. Cool air kissed her skin. Her nipples were already tight, aching.
“It’s off,” she whispered.
He groaned softly. “God, I wish I could see you. Bet you’re so fucking pretty right now.”
Her cheeks flushed.
“Lie back,” he said. “Nice and slow. Get comfortable. I want you spread out for me.”
She leaned back into the pillows.
“Are you there?”
“I’m here,” she whispered.
“Good. Now I want you to pinch those nipples for me.”
Her fingers trembled as she obeyed. The jolt of sensation stole her breath.
“Gawd, Dylan…”
“There she is,” he murmured. “That feel good?”
She nodded. “Yeah.”
