A laugh bubbles up before I can hold it in. “Stop it. You’re ridiculous.”
“Am I?” he asks, calm and teasing. “Because all I can think about is you’re out there in the open, blushing.”
I glance around like he might actually be watching, which is insane. “I’m in the middle of the street. I can’t start talking dirty.”
“Come on,” he murmurs. “Just one. Let’s see how far you’ll go.”
“And if I don’t?” I tease, because he makes me feel so… I don’t know. Feminine. At his mercy. In the best kind of way.
“Then I’ll be disappointed.” He pauses for a moment.
“You do it first,” I say, because seriously?
He laughs softly. “Okay, I can’t stop thinking about you. About your soft skin and the way it feels when I run my hands all over you. How wet you got for me on the beach. How you pulsed around my fingers. I had to run home and take a very dirty shower.”
Oh, and there it is. I’m squirming. “I should go inside,” I whisper. Because I’m not sure it’s legal to feel like this in public.
“Do you know how fucking hard you make me?” he murmurs. “How much I want to make you come with every part of me until you can’t remember your own name?”
My breath catches.
“Tell me what you want me to do to you,” he tells me. “Be explicit. Say it loud.”
“I can’t,” I whisper.
“Do it. You might like it.”
Well okay then. Maybe he’s right. Maybe pushing my barriers is what I need. I mean, this man is going to hunt me. Saying a few dirty words to him should be easy.
“I want you to touch me. My pussy. I want you to fuck me. I want you to make me come on your…” I pause.
“Come on my dick. Say it.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “I want to come so hard on you. I want it to ruin my life. I want it to be so painfully sweet I’ll feel you there for days.” I let out a breath. “And I want you to come, too.”
A low sound escapes him, rough and approving. “That’s it,” he says, softer now, the command melting into something that sounds almost like awe. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear. You have no idea how proud I am of you right now.”
The praise hits harder than I expect. My stomach flips, my skin prickling. I don’t even realize I’ve closed my eyes until I force them open again, dragging in a shaky breath.
And freeze.
Because striding toward me on the sidewalk, hands in his pockets, is Hudson Fitzgerald.
Oh my dear God. Did he hear that?
My heart slams into my ribs.
“Zach,” I whisper into the phone. “Your brother is walking toward me.”
He starts to laugh, the bastard. “Which one?”
“Jesus, he’s frowning at me,” I manage to squeak. “I think I might die.”
“Hudson then,” he says, amusement still in his voice. “Don’t worry, he’s probably too busy thinking about what he’s having for dinner to notice you talking about orgasms.”
“This isn’t funny,” I whisper, turning slightly so my hair falls forward, hoping it hides my face. “You have no ideahow loud I was,” my voice trailing off as Hudson comes within spitting distance.
“Oh, I have a very good idea,” Zach murmurs, his voice rolling through the line like a low hum. “Now smile at my brother but stay on the line.”
