Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Houston paced across the ceramic tile of his living room, waiting for Josie to answer the phone.
After six rings, she answered. “Hello?”
If she could sound that breathless, that erotic, just from answering the phone, Houston wondered what she would sound like when she was coming. He clamped his eyes shut and said curtly, “This is Houston.”
“Oh, hi, this is Josie. Josie Adkins.”
Like he didn’t know who she was.
“Thanks for calling.”
Then silence.
“Is this a hospital call or a personal call, Josie?” With his luck, she’d have a medical question and his gonads would have been in an uproar for nothing.
Another lengthy pause. “Personal.”
He stopped pacing, his swim trunks still damp and stuck to his skin. Droplets of water trailed down his legs, and even the air-conditioning couldn’t cool him down.
“Good answer.” He started towards his bedroom, intent on changing and getting to wherever she was as quickly as he could without access to super powers.
“I’d like to see you. Tonight.” Her voice sounded different than he was used to. The cheerful perky was gone, replaced by a soft, eager temptress.
It had the effect of a lap dance on him.
“Tonight is now, Josie. I’ll pick you up in ten minutes.” Propping the phone up with his shoulder, he stripped his sticky shorts off and kicked them into the bathroom, off the carpet. Naked, he went to his dresser for some boxer briefs.
“Where are we going? What should I wear?”
Something see-through and easy to get off.
She added, “What are you wearing?”
Glancing down, he caught a glimpse of his erection. “Actually, right this minute I’m not wearing anything.”
She gasped. “Nothing? You’re naked?”
Painfully so. Houston pulled out his underwear and a pair of soft, faded jeans. “Totally naked.”
“You’re joking right? This is some kind of phone sex joke.”
That sweet adorable innocence, laced with naughty interest, caught him in the gut every time. She sounded horrified, yet more than a little curious.
“No, this isn’t a joke or even phone sex. If it was, I’d be saying dirty things to you.”
There was a pause. He waited, muscles clenched. He gave her three seconds to ask, sure she would.
One ... two ...
“Like what things?”
His mouth went dry. “I’d ask what you’re wearing. I would describe where I would touch you, tell you how hard I am and how much I want to fuck you…things like that.”
“Oh.” She cleared her throat. “But you’re not going to do that, right?”
Houston squeezed his hand around the phone and tossed his pants on the bed. He’d never be able to zip them up right now. “Maybe I will. Or how about I tell you what I’d like to see you in?”
He didn’t wait for an answer, captivated by the thought. “I’m picturing you in a short denim skirt, the kind that barely covers your ass. It molds to your curves, and in the back it’s so short that I can reach both my hands up inside.”
And touch hot skin.
Her answer was hard breathing in his ear.
“And those lip panties, don’t forget those. I want my mouth on your lips, Josie.” Each and every pair, both on the panties and on her.
He didn’t picture Josie in the silk classy bra and panties displayed in the window at the stores. The kind that cost over a hundred bucks for the set. Even on a date, Josie would probably wear the funny little matching sets from the department at Target.
There was no explanation for why he found that such a turn-on, but he had the painful pressure below the waist to prove it.
“Then on top, you’re wearing one of those white shirts, I don’t know what they’re called, but they’re loose. With one of those little ties right between your breasts. And I can see through it.”
First, he envisioned her wearing a bra, breasts spilling over. Then he switched and pictured her with no bra on underneath, pink nipples and darker areola taunting him through the wispy fabric.
Come and get me, she’d say, since this was his fantasy and he could damn well picture her saying anything he wanted. His hand dropped below his waist and covered his throbbing cock, pressing it to stop the agonizing pain.
“I don’t look good in white,” she said. “Make it hot pink. Tight. No bra.”
Shit. His hand squeezed. “Okay, I can do that.”
“And maybe I shouldn’t wear panties at all. That way when your hand reaches under, you can just touch me. I’d like that.” Her voice had gone low again, wispy, sultry.
This wasn’t the reaction he’d expected. She knew how to do this just right.
It made him reckless, out of control. Eyes closed, his hand moved up and down without thought.
Each stroke made his ache tighten, his desire hotter.
He wanted more, her, but he couldn’t stop.
She had him ragged, desperate. He murmured, “I’d like that, too. ”
“Are you coming?”
His eyes flew open. He saw his hand on his jutting cock, felt the shuddering pulses, and went hot with annoyance. What the hell was he doing?
Her teasing little voice sounded pleased. Like she knew she had him where she wanted him. Pulling his hand back, he said, “What do you mean?”
“Aren’t you coming over? Tonight is now, remember?”
He took a deep breath and blew it back out. “Right. Give me directions and I’ll be over in ten minutes.”
Hopefully by then he would be able to zip his pants. Houston listened to her babble on and on, giving detailed overzealous directions, and had to acknowledge that for the first time since he’d lost his virginity, he was thinking with the wrong head.
He was controlled, hard to rattle normally. But this girl…
She was right.
Houston, we have a fucking problem.