Chapter 17
SEVENTEEN
Hazel
CURTIS:
You, me, and your toy tonight. It’s been too long. 8 p.m.
I stare down at the message and glance at the clock. It’s only a few minutes ‘til and I’m anxious. I’m not really excited for phone sex tonight, but I feel guilty that we haven’t had anything resembling intimacy since he left. I’ve been blowing Curtis off way too much lately. This last week, I barely answered his texts, and when I did, they were only one or two words at a time. Between the inn and Ramsey, almost all of my time has been monopolized.
If the situation was reversed, and I was in Curtis’s shoes, I’d be panicking. I’d be sure that I lost him to his ex-wife, and I’d be wanting reassurances. My stomach turns just thinking about how sick with anxiety I’d be. So I feel like I owe him this much, at least.
But it feels like I’m somehow betraying Ramsey by spending this kind of time with my fiancé. All the torturing each other back and forth, the bickering, and him helping today. The pretending we’ve been doing is starting to go too far, and all the reminiscing is getting to my head.
I don’t know how much longer I can hold Ramsey at bay either if I want to complete the deal. He was clear on his terms. I caved at dinner and told him he could sleep here tonight to buy myself some more time to think it through. But it’s only a matter of time until he’ll want me to make a decision, one way or the other.
Somehow, someway, I have to find a way to keep my heart safe, even if I do let Ramsey have other parts of me. Curtis has been far too understanding and supportive for me to do anything but the bare minimum to make good on my contractual obligations to Ramsey. Meanwhile, I need to do more for Curtis to show him I’m not forgetting about him.
When Ramsey comes through the bedroom door a few minutes after Curtis gets on the phone with me, my heart seizes up in my chest. There’s a boyish grin on his face, and his eyes sweep the room for me like he has something funny he wants to tell me. They fall on me a moment later in my bed just as Curtis’s voice comes through the phone.
“You got my cock, baby? I don’t want you using any other toys while I’m gone. Just mine.” Curtis groans, and then the sound of his grunt comes through the phone as he jerks his hand over his dick.
“Yes,” I say softly in return, letting the tip of the toy brush over my clit as I tease myself with it under the covers. A torture I deserve.
Regret fills me as Ramsey’s eyes darken and his jaw goes tight. I should have locked the door and made sure he wasn’t coming back home until later. I’d still tell him I had phone sex with Curtis, because we don’t keep secrets. But seeing it on his face—watching that playful grin of his fade to something more haunting—makes me feel awful.
“Good girl. Fuck yourself with my cock. Fill that pussy. I’m already close, baby. I’ve been missing you. We have to do this more often. I need to hear you,” Curtis continues, wholly unaware that my husband is looming over the bed listening to the whole thing.
“So full of you. I wish you were here. I need fucked,” I bluster on, my hand shaking under the covers, even though there’s no vibration from the toy.
Ramsey’s eyes widen and fall over me. I can see the irritated tick of his jaw, and his eyes float back to the phone as Curtis moans through it. Ramsey loses his patience a moment later, ripping back the quilt that’s covering me, and the cool air lashes over my skin. I’m bare from the waist down, my panties discarded to the side. I’ve got the DIY clone-a-dick Curtis made for our anniversary just slipping inside me again as Ramsey fully realizes what’s happening. I watch him process it, his face a swift wave of emotion before it goes blank again.
He kneels on the edge of the bed—his eyes locked on me and mine on him. I’m waiting for him to react, expecting he’ll say something—do something to mock me or piss Curtis off—but he stays quiet. Just watching and waiting while I keep fucking myself with the toy.
“Oh fuck. I’m close. Are you close, baby? Let me hear you if you are.”
I’m not. I’m too distracted by Ramsey. I’ve lost all ability to focus on my already unlikely orgasm because he’s there, glowering at me like I’m some kind of harlot who’s betraying him.
“Yes,” I lie, and Ramsey can tell. A self-satisfied smirk forms in the wake of his realization. He looks like a villain with the way his lips curl into it.
“Tell daddy how much you love it,” Curtis half speaks, half squeaks the words as he gets closer to coming.
“I love it, Daddy. I love your cock so much,” I answer. And if I didn’t regret doing this to Ramsey before, I regret it now when he watches me say those words while I half-heartedly slide the toy in and out. Ramsey stifles a laugh, and I glare at him, pulling the toy away and starting to sit up.
But Ramsey grabs my thighs and pins me in place. My eyes snap to his, and we’re locked in a battle of silent wills for full seconds before he grabs the hand I still have wrapped around the toy and guides it back between my legs. He helps me push it inside, his eyes never leaving mine. His thumb brushes over me, and he massages small circles over my clit until I start to raise my hips to meet it with counter friction.
I can hear Curtis coming in the background over the phone. Gasping and stuttering as he fucks his hand somewhere in Vegas. But all I can think about—all I can feel—is Ramsey’s hands on me again. Then he does the unthinkable; he leans down and wraps his lips around my tender, swollen clit. The sensation is almost too much, and I buck up under it like I might jump from the bed entirely. His strong arms wrap around my thighs tighter and pin me back down, and he starts to suck on my clit in earnest until I cry out from how good it feels.
“Oh god. I haven’t heard you sound this good in forever, baby. You must miss my cock that much, huh?” Curtis laughs through the phone.
I’m too busy coming hard against Ramsey’s mouth to respond, muttering curses and running my fingers through his hair as I fuck his face and Curtis’s toy at the same time. When I stop gasping, and my breathing starts to slow to a more normal pace, I brave a glance down between my thighs. Ramsey looks like a fucking devil, his lashes are low, and his eyes are shadowed by them.
He raises back onto his knees and pulls himself out of the sweats he has on. I gasp when I see it—a metal bar pierced straight through from top to bottom. One that wasn’t there before.
“You still going, baby?” Curtis asks.
“Yes,” I answer absently. “Going again.” Because fuck do I want to, but with the real thing this time. The version I’ve missed in the middle of the night more times than I can count.
“Oh fuck. That fucking horny tonight? You must really miss my cock.” I can hear Curtis’s smile through the phone, but it’s a backdrop to what happens next.
Ramsey’s hand slips between my legs and wets his fingers with my come before he wraps his hand around his cock and starts to fuck himself. The sound of it is intoxicating and watching my come make the metal bar on his cock glisten has me in stunned silence.
“Baby?” Curtis asks.
“Hmm?” I respond, my eyes locked on the way Ramsey starts to pick up his pace. Precum starts to leak from the tip of his cock, and I’m so tempted to sit up and lick it off that it startles me when Curtis speaks again.
“Do you miss my cock?” Curtis asks the question like he’s already repeated it several times. My eyes lift to meet Ramsey’s, and his brow is raised in amusement, his teeth dig into his lower lip as he tries to mute the groans coming from his chest as he fucks himself harder.
“I miss it so much. I want to hear you come again,” I answer Curtis, but my eyes are still locked on Ramsey, and he knows the words are meant for him.
“I can try, baby. Let me see if I can stroke it back to life. I need you to talk me through it though.” Curtis sounds doubtful.
I hit the mute button as Ramsey starts to come. He’s loud, moaning and gasping as he fucks his hand; his come spills out over me. It paints my chest and abdomen, leaving hot streaks of it dripping down my skin. He jerks out a few more strokes and lets it pool on my lower belly as I watch.
I feel the kind of used and dirty only he can give me as he bends over me, draining the last of himself over my ribs and stomach. He stares down at his work, highly amused at the mess he’s made of me. He grabs my panties to wipe himself off and his self-satisfied grin grows wider as he tosses them to the floor.
He looks back down at my stomach and slips the tip of his finger through the mess, drawing letters on my skin with his come. An “M” first, and then an “I.” He pauses to admire them before he continues with an “N,” and then finishes with a flourished “E.” He stares at it for a long moment while Curtis grunts through the phone, clearly frustrated at a lack of progress.
“Baby? I think I need to hear you say it again. You know how much it helps.” Curtis breaks the silence that’s starting to grow.
I blink, remembering that I started this and asked him for more. But Ramsey’s eyes lift from admiring his work, and his eyebrow arches in a threat as I unmute the phone again.
“Yes, Daddy. I’m here. I need more,” I say, softly defiant even as he looms over me. Ramsey’s expression darkens, and his jaw goes tight. “I need you inside me,” I add for good measure. I might be weak for him, but it doesn’t mean he owns me.
Ramsey’s teeth clench, and a muted growl rumbles from his chest. He reaches over me and hits the button to kill the call before his eyes return to mine.
“Enough,” he roars.
“He’ll just call back,” I say, whisper-quiet in my response.
Ramsey’s fingertips trace up my arm, over my shoulder, and slide between my neck and the pillow I’m resting against. His fingers thread through my hair, and he tightens his grip until my jaw tilts back, and my neck is exposed. His teeth scrape against my skin, and then he sinks them in, biting me hard in a way that’s going to leave a mark. Only letting up when I finally yield and cry out his name. Then his head draws up again, his lips against my ear.
“Mine,” he growls. “Every single inch for the next two months. You fuck with me like this again, I’ll make you pay for it. When he calls back, you can tell Daddy you have a husband you’re busy worshiping now.”
He releases me, and he’s off the bed and out the doorway in record time. The door slams shut in his wake, and he storms down the hall while his come is still warm on my stomach. My jaw is still on the floor as I try to process what he’s just said, what he’s just done.
The sound of my phone ringing echoes on the walls, jolting me out of my daze, and I hit the answer button. It’s Curtis again, as predicted, asking me what happened and if I want to keep trying for a second round.
“I have to go. Ramsey’s home and I don’t want him to hear us.”
“Oh. Okay,” Curtis whispers in return. “Have a good night then. Love you, baby.”
“Night,” I mumble and hang up, only realizing when I put my phone on my nightstand that I didn’t tell him I love him back.
I grab some tissues from my drawer and wipe the scrawled word from my abdomen, slowly and deliberately so that I’m not getting it on the comforter when I stand. He’d already made of mess of me, but I didn’t have to let him make a mess of everything.
I knew Ramsey had this side in him, but I’d never seen it in quite this way before. The brilliant sort of rage that leaves him completely unchecked. I have concerns about my sanity—because I think I like it, enough that I want more.