“You tell me,” he says. “Have a good day?”
“Actually, yes. Just watched my favorite hockey team win an important game. Screamed at the top of my lungs when Kowalski checked the MVP, but it all worked out.”
“So, what did you think?” he asks.
“Your second assist wassloppy.”
He laughs, surprised but also delighted. “Excuse me? I threaded that pass through two defenders who happen to be thebestin the fucking league.”
“Sure, yousomehowpulled it off, but you also hesitated half a second too long, Cross. Kowalski almost picked it off.”
“But he didn’t.” His voice drops lower. “What else did you notice?”
“Your interview. Pattycakes, you can’t get too lovey-dovey. No couple shit publicly,” I say.
“Shut the hell up. I’ll do whatever I want. No one knows. But you.”
I press my thighs together. “You’ve missed me?”
“Seriously?” He laughs. “It’s only been four days without you, and it’s making me fucking crazy. You’re all I think about. But then again, I know you’ve been thinking about me too.”
“Really? That’s so incredibly cocky of you to assume.”
“Tell me I’m lying.” I hear him shifting, sheets rustling. “To my face. FaceTime me, Kendall.”
“Pfft.”
“I need to see you try to lie to me.” His voice goes lower. “Pretty fucking please?”
That’s all it takes for me to switch the call over. His chiseled jaw and high cheekbones fill my screen. He’s shirtless, sitting against the stark white W hotel pillows, one arm behind his head, and his eyes sparkle when he sees me. The scruff on his face is so damn sexy.
“There she is.” He gives me a half-smile that nearly makes me melt. “Wait, are you wearing my shirt?”
“Mmm.” I glance down. “Looks like I am.” I reach for it and take it off, tossing it on the floor. I sit back on the couch, breasts exposed.
“Let me see you,” he mutters, keeping his voice low. His jaw tightens as I lower the camera. “Fuck.” He exhales. “Gorgeous.”
“I was thinking the same,” I whisper.
“Look what you do to me.” He pushes the sheets down, and I see he’s already hard, his hand wrapped around himself.
“Damn,” I whisper, watching him stroke himself. My body burns hot. “I need you.”
“I know.” His hand moves slowly. “Join me.”
I slide my fingers down and angle the phone down so he can see my hand moving into my underwear. I shimmy out of them, and the sound he makes is almost pained.
“Happy?” I ask, breathing hard.
“So fucking happy.” His hand moves faster on his cock. “You’re glistening. Is that all for me?”
“I’ve been thinking about you nonstop,” I say, the orgasm building too quickly.
“I’m going to ruin you when I get home. I’m going to spread you out on your bed and lick you until you’re begging me to stop, and then I’m going to fuck you so hard that you feel me for days.”
“Don’t tempt me with a good time.” I’m breathing harder now.
“Two fingers, sweetheart. Pretend it’s me.”
