“You sound breathless.”
I can hear the devilish smile in his voice. Or am I imagining that too? Maybe I just need to get laid. By Leo.
Preferably in the next thirty seconds.
His sardonic chuckle winds down my spine. “You better not be having fun without me.”
“I...” I clear my throat. “I’m working out.”
The huff of amusement makes me shiver. “Don’t stop on my account.” The sound of clothes rustling comes through the line. “Keep going.”
My lips part. There’s a dark undertone to his strained voice that sends my head into a tailspin, like heknowswhat I’m doing. But there’s no way... It’d be impossible.
“Go on,” he orders as if he’s standing right in front of me, seeing in crystal clarity that I’ve defied his order.
I change to speaker and set the phone on the bed, gripping the towel and the blanket. I can feel him on the other end of the line as if he’s right beside me, and whatever fantasy I was getting myself off to is gone.
Because this is something in and of itself.
We’re back in his bedroom. He’s in his armchair, I’m kneeling on his bed, and every demand that comes out of his mouth, I follow. And Leo? He has his hand wrapped around his cock with the lights on.
This time, when I grind my hips hard against the towel, I suck in a sharp breath.
“Good.” Slowly, carefully, like he’s making sure I hear each and every word, he says, “Explain to me in excruciating detail what you’re doing.”
“I— Um. A hip flexor thing.” The lie falls right off my tongue, breathy enough that I’m certain he’ll see right through me. “I was close to finishing.”
“Yeah,” he says, somewhere between a groan and a chuckle. “I’m sure you were.”
What is that supposed to mean?
I don’t have a chance to analyze it further before I’m swallowing a moan. I’ve lost control of my body. I’m but a simple woman. His voice floating through the air is enough to get me going.
Leo’s quiet, labored breaths come out harsh through the receiver. If I concentrate hard enough, I swear I can hear the rhythmic sound of something moving. Quickly. Like skin against skin.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t I say I wanted details?”
I blink. Clawing at my brain for something. “I don’t remember what this move is called.”
“Turn on the camera and show me. I’m an athlete. I’ll know.”
Panic sinks into my bones.Abort.I need to end this call before I do something even more idiotic—like do as he says.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m all gross and sweaty. You don’t want to see that.”
Not a lie.
“You have no idea what things I want to see you do.” The video request comes through, and my eyes flare with panic. “Just to make sure your technique is correct. I’d hate for you to hurt yourself.”
Decline.
Decline.
Decline.
“It’s okay. I’ve got this. I’ve been doing this for a few years now.”
“Yeah? You better not be lying to me, baby girl.”
