“I’d prefer not to talk about my co-worker or his kinky sex games, thank you very much.”
“Whatwouldyou prefer to talk about?”
“You.”
“Didn’t you get enough of me last night?”
“Not even close,” Atticus muttered.
He swore he heard a smile in Carson’s voice when he said, “Is that so?”
“Maybe next time we hang out, we can do it while sober.”
“I think I can make that happen. When do you think that’ll be?”
Atticus stared up at the dark ceiling, grinning like an idiot. He honestly couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a phone conversation with a man. A man he’d been interested in, at least. Even if he had, he was fairly certain it would’ve been done via text, not speech. That was the way of the world nowadays.
“I don’t know,” Atticus answered. “We’re in New York right now.”
“New York? Seriously?”
“Yep.” Atticus sighed.
“You travel often?”
“The task force does. And since I’m now part of it, I’ve become a wanderer.”
Carson was quiet for a moment, and Atticus didn’t feel the need to talk. He was comfortable listening to the man breathe on the other end of the phone. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine Carson beside him. Only if they were in the same room, he would bet money they would be doing something that required more effort than this.
“I can’t stop thinkin’ about you,” Carson whispered.
The words swam through Atticus’s bloodstream, thickening his cock and making his skin prickle with heat.
“I seem to be having the same problem,” he admitted.
“Yeah?” There was a rustling sound followed by, “What exactly do you think about?”
Jesus. When was the last time a man made him blush? Atticus could feel his cheeks heating, and the tips of his ears were warm.
“I’ll tell you whatIthink about,” Carson continued, his voice low and sexy. “I think about what would’ve happened if you’d been in my bed when I woke up this mornin’.”
“What would’ve happened?” Atticus’s voice cracked.
“You would’ve been nekkid. It’s my bed. My rules.” Carson chuckled. “I would’ve watched you sleep for a few minutes. When I started pullin’ the sheet down, you would’ve stirred, coming awake slowly. But when I licked your nipple, your entire body would’ve jumped to attention.”
Atticus hummed softly, his fingertip brushing his nipple.
“Are you touchin’ yourself, Atticus?”
“Not yet,” he lied, his voice sturdier than he expected it to be. “But keep talkin’ like that, and I will be.”
“I want you to,” Carson rasped. “I wanna make you come like this. I wanna hear your voice in my ear when you do.”
This was surreal. He’d met the man last night, and for the first time in his life, Atticus had resisted temptation. Was this his reward for it? If so, he was going to begin a life on the straight and narrow.
“Is the room dark?” Carson asked.
“Yeah.”
