“Yeah, I’m at the gym.”
I frown in confusion. “How were you texting if you’re in the middle of a workout?”
He lets out a wry chuckle. “I’m an excellent multi-tasker. Now answer the question. What’s up with you?”
The corner of my mouth curves up. “You know what’s up with me. I sent you a picture.”
Deciding to take the opportunity that’s been presented to me, I reach down to unfasten my fly and delve my hand inside my jeans. My eyes flutter closed and a soft gasp escapes my lips as my hand wraps around my throbbing cock.
I know I’m shamelessly baiting Jazz but I don’t care. Ineedthis. I need him to taunt me and insult me and tell me what a dirty, desperate whore I am.
I makeno attempt to rein in my moans of pleasure as I stroke myself harder, humiliation burning hotter with every second that passes with Jazz remaining silent. I know he’s still there; I can hear the gym noises in the background of the call and his steady breathing as he continues what I’m assuming is a warm-down jog.
His seeming indifference just makes me even more desperate and before I can think better of it, I shift the angle of my phone to give Jazz a perfect view of my fist gliding over my hard, pulsing dick.
6
I almostfalloff the treadmill as my phone screen is suddenly populated by the image of a thick, mouth-watering cock. Flushed and leaking and currently being stroked by a large hand as Damon continues to moan like a fucking porn star.
Unable to tear my gaze from the screen, I reach out blindly to adjust the treadmill speed to a walk. My own cock throbs desperately but I ignore it. I’ve been sporting a semi for the past fifteen minutes thanks to Damon’s texts and, unsurprisingly, it took all of a microsecond to chub out completely once I heard that little gasp leave his lips—the exact same sound he made on Saturday night when he finally gave in and grabbed his dick.
I need to put a stop to this. I know he’s trying to bait me into debasing him, which I’m not going to do; but I wouldn’t be surprised if ignoring him fed his kink as well. It’d be so much easier if he’d managed to figure his shit out already. But as things stand there’s too much risk of a post-orgasm freak out. Besides, I still want to know what the hell’s going on with him.
“Well, it looks like you’re managing pretty well on your own,” I drawl. “I guess I’ll leave you to it.”
Damon lets out a groan of frustration and his cock disappears from the screen, replaced with his scowling face. “You’re such an asshole.”
“So I’ve been told,” I say with a shrug. “Now, do you think you can keep your hand off your dick for a few minutes? We can call a raincheck on the cam show,” I add with a smirk before glancing around pointedly. “Maybe save it for a more…appropriatelocale.”
Damon’s cheeks flush pink and he bites his lower lip, affecting an expression that could only be described as sheepishly sassy. Well, damn. Maybe I didn’t need to worry about a freak out after all.
“Of course, if you actuallylikethe idea of random strangers getting a glimpse of your dick in action I’m sure we can work something out…”
“Fucking hell.”He lets out that little gasp again, prompting me to roll my eyes.
“I told you to stop touching your cock.”
He frowns in obvious consternation. “How could you possibly know…?”
“Because I’m just that awesome.” I switch off the treadmill and grab my phone from the console. “Now, zip up and tell me what’s going on with you.”
He frowns. “What are you talking about?”
I arch a brow, rubbing a towel over the back of my neck. “Aren’t your kids in town for the Holiday?”
“They are…” He averts his gaze as his cheeks burn red again and a familiar look of agitation mars his expression. I have to fight to hold in a sigh; whatever sense of shame and regret that was absent earlier seems to have reared its head at the mention of his kids.
I let go of my disappointment and push ahead. “So why are you DickTiming with me when you could be spending time with them?”
The picture on the screen becomes an upward view of him groaning and running a hand over his face. I can only assume the hand holding his phone has dropped to his lap. “I know.I’m such a fucking creep. I can’t even tell you about the fantasy I had just before—it was so fucked-up. Who the hell ditches their kids to?—”
“Damon,fuck—I wasn’t judging you,” I assure him, my voice firm. “It wasjust a question. You texted me out of the blue on Thanksgiving asking for a distraction…so what did you need to be distracted from?” I press. “Because I’m guessing you weren’t just trying to get out of setting the table.”
He runs a hand through his hair, letting out a heavy sigh. “Well, there goes my boner…”
I huff a soft laugh. “I doubt that’ll be the case for long. Hang on, I’m taking you off FaceTime—unless you want to watch me stretch out my thighs?” I tease.
“I’m good,” he says dryly.
