Page 145 of On the Breakaway

“You know why.” His voice is hoarse, his arm moving slowly as he grasps himself.

“Tell me.”

“You want me to confess to stroking my cock with your panties?”

“No,” I murmur, my fingers brushing my clit. “I want to watch you do it.”

A devilish grin spreads across his face.

“That depends. Do I get to see you fuck yourself with your fingers, wishing it were me inside you?”

I’m too desperate to argue, instead angling the camera down at the same time he does.

My heart kicks up when he wraps the black lace around his shaft and starts stroking himself.

I match his pace with my fingers, swirling circles across my clit.

“It’s been way too long since I was inside you.” He murmurs.

“It’s fucking unbearable.”

“Yeah? Is your hand not enough?”

I exhale loudly. "You know it’s not enough.”

My pace picks up, my orgasm just out of reach.

“These panties aren’t enough for me either, baby. Nothing is as good as your perfect pussy.”

“Grayson.” His name rolls off my tongue.

“Are you going to come for me?”

“Yes,” I whimper, watching as he moves his hand faster, his grip tight as he starts focusing on the tip of his cock.

“I am too.”

When he moans my name, I lose it completely, falling over the edge at the same time as he does. My orgasm wrings me out completely, while he comes onto his stomach.

No one tells you how awkward phone sex gets when it’s over. There is absolutely no way to look sexy on camera while you clean yourself up and make the bed.

Once we’re both settled back onto our beds, I glance into the camera and notice he’s laughing.

He tries to hide his laugh behind his hand, but he can’t stop his shoulders from shaking, and soon I’m giggling right along with him.

“Well, that was…” He starts.

“Something we should’ve done two weeks ago,” I finish.

We both laugh again.

When he regains his composure, he frowns. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.” The words slip out before I can think better of them, and I cringe.

He notices. “Why did that look painful to say?”

I stutter, trying to figure out how to explain. “I don’t feel like I’m allowed to miss you. I don’t know what I want. I don’t even know what the hell we are.”