“Getting ready to go to the game but I’m thinking of you right now, on your knees, lips stretched around my cock.”
His voice is so close to the narrator’s that my brain glitches from the sensual overload. There’s water running in the background. He must be about to shower.
It takes a minute to answer. All I manage is a string of emojis to illustrate what he does to me.
MightyPuck:Did I interrupt something? We can have fun later. You’re worth the wait.
CraftyCutie:I was listening to an audiobook on my phone when you messaged me. It was at a steamy chapter.
MightyPuck:Send me the name of the book and the part you’re at.
CraftyCutie:You want to listen to it?
MightyPuck:Yeah. I need to know what else you like, sweetheart. Maybe I want some inspiration, maybe I just want to read it knowing it made you wish I was there to make your pussy stop aching.
My stomach dips. That’s so hot. No guy I’ve dated has ever been interested in the romance books I read. They’ve reaped the benefits if a scene got me too hot and bothered, but they’ve never gone as far as reading any books themselves to find out what I find sexy.
MightyPuck:I can still help you feel good from far away.
CraftyCutie:Your talent is unmatched, sir.
He switches to a call. I answer it and set my earring project aside.
“Mm, want to help me out? I’m so fucking hard thinking about you in this shower with me.”
I wet my lips, already short of breath. “We’d be all wet together. What would you do with me?”
“Fuck. Everything,” he growls. “But first, get on your fucking knees for me.”
A shiver zips down my spine and heat pools in my core. It’s easy to moan across the line for him while I think of how he looks right now—corded forearm braced against the tile, fist stroking his rigid cock, water streaming over his body.
A ragged exhale tears from him. “Yeah. Suck it. Show me what’s all mine.”
The mental image of kneeling at his feet to blow him in the shower, maybe with his hand gripping my hair to make me suck him all the way down ignites my desire.
I spot the mug of candy canes I left on my book cart. Grabbing one, I film a short video to give him a visual.
He groans when I send it. It sounds like his hand speeds up.
“Get me there,” he rumbles. “Make me come, baby.”
I could stretch across my bed with a vibrator, but I want to stay focused on him. Make him feel good.
“Want your come filling my mouth,” I murmur. “I want to swallow every drop. Choke me with it.”
“Jesus,” he forces out roughly. “You like being my little cock slut, don’t you? So good for me, taking me nice and deep while I fuck that mouth.”
I moan again, making more obscene noises to make this lifelike for him. He bites back a curse that turns into the filthiest sound when he comes. A thrill races through me knowing I helped him get off.
“Thanks,” he says with a warm, sleepy chuckle. “I used to have this pregame ritual where I’d always rub one out. It’s more fun with you, obviously.”
“I feel like I should be thanking you. Did your shower run cold?”
Talking to him while he’s showering feels more intimate than him calling me while he jerks off. I lay my hand over my stomach. It doesn’t help the flutter.
“Not yet. Water’s still lukewarm.”
I listen for another moment to the sound of him moving beneath the spray and rinsing his hair.
