The bed springs crunch as I ease down onto the quilt, my hand landing softly on my thigh.
Maybe I shouldn’t… Is this weird? This is weird.
Does it matter if this is weird? Not when those are August’s eyes watching my every move, pupils blown with how badly he wants me.
Or… they’re almost August’s eyes…
All dignity and self-preservation fly out the window as I lunge for the dresser drawer. Top shelf, left, behind the socks, my hand falls on the very thing I need. A long, and hard, and cool case.
I flip it open, then slide on my old glasses.
They’re not exactly the same as his. His are nicer. He’s nicer than me in every way. But the moment I look up, a wisp of air catches at my lips.
August.
My hand’s back on my thigh, but this time I’m not going to stop. I let it trail up the inside, sweeping over my sensitive skin, and I’m not regretting a single leg day leading up to this.
August will like my thighs. I know he will. I’ve seen the way he looks at me, at my arms, at my waist, at my lips. The way he’s looking at me now.
Closer, closer, my hand drifts across hot and bare skin, adding to the billion tingles already throbbing through my body from my hard and desperate dick, which wanted him so badly tonight.
Now’s the time. Now August gets what he wan?—
‘Into the Groove’ cuts into my fantasy as my phone goes off on the mattress behind me. I glare at the thing, expecting it to be the last person in the world I want to hear from right now. But I catch the glowing message: No Caller ID.
I snatch it up, pressing it feverishly to my ear. “Mmmh?”
“August? Hey.” His gravelly voice sends a fresh thrill through me.
“Hey.”Hey, I’m naked. Thinking about fucking you. You up for that?
“I wanted to…” He pauses, just like my hand’s paused, fingernails scrunching into my thigh an inch from my firm dick. “I wanted to talk.”
“I wanted to talk too.” Maybe my voice is a little sultry, but he did tell me I should do this. That I should tell him how I dealt with my insane attraction towards him. “I wanted to tell you—” He starts speaking at the same time, so we both cut off.
His deep laugh down the line is so hot I barely even need to touch myself right now. “You go,” he says.
Alright. Here goes nothing. “I like you.” There’s no sound, and the line may as well be dead. I guess he’s waiting for me to finish so he doesn’t interrupt me again. “I already told you that. But tonight, um, outside your room…”
His breath fills the speaker with something akin to a sigh, only a little sharper.
“I didn’t want to go,” I tell him.
Softly, “I didn’t want you to go.”
“And when you pushed me against that wall…” I’m already so turned on, the words just fall from my lips. “I want you to kiss me like that. Again. Now. I want to feel your lips. And I don’t want you to stop. And I’m here at home, and I’m in my bed, and I’m thinking about you. And I wish you were here with me.”
His breath again, tingling down the line, sweeping over my neck, over my shoulders, down my abdomen. My cock throbs with want, and I let out my own hot breath. I shouldn’t do it, not with him on the phone, not knowing what he thinks of this. But if he’d just give me the go-ahead…
“Are you…” A little pause. I think I hear him swallow, and I can see the curve of his throat. How I want my tongue there. “You’re in bed?”
“Mmhmm.” More or less. Close enough to give him the image I hope he likes.
“And… what are you wearing?”
Calm down, beating heart.But are we doing this? Maybe we’re doing this. “Nothing at all.”
His voice turns playful. “Not a thing?”
