Chapter 18
Cock Ring:
Are you still at your computer?
M y phone vibrates on the nightstand, bringing a little heat to my cheeks when I see who’s name is illuminated on-screen. After the brief exchange we had a few hours ago, Beau disappeared faster than a skittish horse. Just when it seemed like he might be open to talking, the conversation evaporated in front of my eyes.
Rolling my lips together, I quickly tap out a reply. He’s lucky I’m even entertaining him dragging his ass back to my inbox at this extremely late hour.
Nope. I’m being good tonight. In bed and reading a book.
More precisely, I’m mid-way through devouring a chapter involving an extremely hot four-way and knotting. A girl can only but live vicariously through her favorite monster fucker literary masterpieces.
Ok.
Good.
You work too hard, you know.
Beau takes an eternity to type his next message, with dots bouncing on the screen and then disappearing over and over. I’m deeply intrigued to see what speech he seems to be busy penning via text. Is he about to give me some lecture, or a complex set of instructions for mucking out Teddy’s stall tomorrow?
That’s probably what I should have done.
Gone to bed early, I mean.
A laugh escapes me. Nope, it’s not boring-boss-Beau texting me… this feels a whole lot like a man who has discovered a way to ignore his moral compass. I shouldn’t be so gleeful at the prospect of a man entangled in the complexities of marriage and divorce texting me, but here I am. Apparently, I’m a slut for a cowboy who is potentially very bad for my health.
Have you been drinking, hot stuff?
A little.
It’s Storm’s fault.
Well, he is pretty to look at.
I’m not surprised it only took one bat of his eyelashes to render you incapable of resisting his charms.
He’s not that pretty.
Well, ok, the asshole is. Always has been.
I see that he’s typing something straight away, and my teeth catch my bottom lip as I wriggle back against my pillow, eager to see what he has to say.
Do you think he’s nice to look at?
A little flutter occupies the space where my heart resides. Which is apparently between my legs these days.
Jealous?
I don’t know if it’s a good idea for me to have my phone right now.
The guy currently in charge isn’t good at following the rules. Not like sober Beau.
What if I like the guy who wants to break a few rules?
Fuck. Don’t tell me that.
Definitely don’t tell him that.
Why not?
I need to ask you something.
Okayyy…
Why didn’t you want me to shave my mustache?
Truthfully.
My lips tip into a smile, and I drum my nails against the bedsheets. There’s a devil within me who wants to taunt Beau’s inner demon. A naughty little troublemaker who wants to pry apart that tough shell and see what secrets he’s got going on. What might I be able to lure out of this man if he can be convinced to come play my game?
I just know he’s got a hidden freaky side he keeps locked away, and the fact he’s drunk texting me has effectively swiped a forearm across the entire table of defenses I had put in place against this man.
What I should do is put my phone on do not disturb, then immediately plunge my horny ass in that outdoor tub with my monster smut and favorite five-speed tentacle dildo as a distraction. Which was the flavor of evening plans I had intended on, all of two minutes before his text arrived.
Fuck it. No overthinking this; he’s the one who initiated an after-dark rendezvous. I chew the inside of my cheek and hit the video call button.
The phone rings once, then connects with a muffled rustling noise filling the speaker. Except, rather than Beau’s handsome face, like I’m hoping to see, it’s only my own peering back. A blank screen occupies the place where his video is turned off. Looks like he’s not keen on doing this face-to-face, but he is willing to accept my call.
Or at least, the alcohol is.
“Truthfully?” I arch an eyebrow into the camera.
“Truthfully… I shouldn’t be answering right now. Or texting you.” His voice is low, roughened, and hella sexy. A clink of ice cubes punctuates the silence as he sips a drink on the other end of the phone.
Goosebumps dance across my shoulders, because the thought of Beau Heartford reclining in his bed with a whiskey in hand, while watching me on his phone, might just have unshackled a dangerous creature inside me.
One I have little, to no, interest in taming tonight.
“We’re just talking,” I say, while propping my phone on the bed so that I can keep both hands free. Settling back against the headboard, with one hand, I scoop my hair over my shoulder, and stare down the camera at the invisible man who quietly watches me.
“I have two weaknesses I probably shouldn’t tell you about.” My fingers drag up the cotton of my baggy t-shirt, tracing the swell of my breast leading to my collarbone. “I’m certifiably weak for cute girls with tattoos who could ruin my life… and men with mustaches. That’s the reason I didn’t want you to shave yours.”
There’s another clink of ice against the side of a glass before Beau makes a noise in the back of his throat.
“Jesus.”
I tilt my head, fighting back the smirk that wants to settle on my face, hearing the obvious effect I’m having on him, all wrapped up in that one gravelly word. “What about you, hot stuff?”
He pauses for a moment. “Are you asking if I have a thing for men with mustaches?”
I sink my teeth into my bottom lip. Oh, hell, I’m in a world of trouble if Beau is going to hit me with that panty-dropping charisma. I’ve witnessed a tiny glimpse of what he’s capable of, and I’m in treacherous waters if there’s more where that came from.
Softly shaking my head, I click my tongue.
“Considering you used to climb on the back of rampaging bulls as an idea of a good time, I suspect you don’t have any. So, indulge my curiosity. What’s your weakness?” I comb my fingers through my loose curls. “Although if it is hot as fuck facial hair, I’ve got some great accounts I can recommend you subscribe to.”
He clears his throat before speaking.
“Apparently tonight it’s St?rmand Lane convincing me to play him at pool…” Beau hesitates, and a crackling tension extends across space and time while I’m left hanging before he continues. “And the prettiest girl I’ve ever laid eyes on, who video calls me when I’m all alone in my hotel room.”
His voice oozes with sex as the words we both know Beau shouldn’t be saying, make their way to dance across my skin like it’s his fingers running a drugging path straight down my body.
Damn him for being the worst kind of forbidden fruit. Yet, I can’t seem to find it within myself to stop this, to put a halt to this madness we’re tiptoeing closer to the precipice of.
“Cowboys like you… must spend a lot of nights alone in hotel rooms?” My pulse thumps between my legs, and I shift my weight, squeezing to try and ease the growing ache building there.
Beau makes a noise that is part rumble, part agreement, and a whole lot of immensely hot. But he doesn’t answer. Without requiring a drop of alcohol, the right dosage of recklessness surges through my bloodstream tonight.
Reaching over, I pluck my hat off the place where I’ve had it hanging from the wooden headboard.
“Who’s fucking hat is that?” The demand comes fast and gruff.
I’m basking in the glow of knowing I’ve got his undivided attention. Smirking at the camera, fluttering my eyelashes, I rub a forefinger over the rim. “You like? It’s cute, huh?”
“Don’t try to be coy. Who does that hat belong to?”
“You know… I don’t remember.”
“Sage.”
This man could bring me to orgasm by saying my name in that tone of voice alone, I’m almost certain of it.
“Don’t burst an artery. It’s mine. I bought it for myself, with my money, because I loved it and I wanted it. Happy?”
He’s back to silence again now, but wicked tension continues to ripple between us like a fire line all the same.
“Do you watch porn, Beau Heartford?” I reposition myself in front of the camera, sitting upright with my back against the pillows, using the shadowy light and angle to my best advantage. Staring at the camera positioned on the bed at my feet, it feels too damn enticing having his eyes on me this intently. “All those nights you spent alone in your hotel room. How did you unwind by yourself after coming off the adrenaline high of the rodeo, hmm ?”
“Jesus Christ.” He sounds pained, and immensely turned on. “I—I don’t know if it’s a good idea for me to answer that. None of this is a good idea.”
“Do you want to stop talking? I can hang up.” The fluttering pulse in my neck matches the wings beating in my stomach, hoping for what his answer might be. Yet, I still feel like there’s every possibility the stern, grouchy, closed-up version of Beau is going to make his appearance and shut this phone call down faster than a fire marshal at an overcrowded nightclub.
“I’m married, Sage. Maybe it’s only on paper. Even if it’s over. That legality, or… fuck… technicality, still exists.” He exhales with a heavy rasp, his words not exactly slurred, but they’re drowsy coming off his lips. It’s the sexiest sound, hearing him let his guard down, allowing me to have the version of him not strung together so tightly for once.
I can just picture his hard-worn fingers threading through those dark curls of his. Can see in my mind’s eye the way he scrubs his hand over his mouth, highlighting that strong jaw, his mustache, the salt and pepper stubble when he hasn’t shaved.
“There’s an answer to that question that I’m supposed to give you… but it’s really fucking hard to think straight, or remember a single thing when you’re giving me those eyes.”
I’m a peacock preening my feathers, shamelessly glowing from head to toe.
“You’re a good man, Beau Heartford. Maybe a little too honorable for your own good.”
“Don’t I fucking know it.”
“You don’t want to come this far and get caught allowing those impossibly high standards you’ve set for yourself to slip, now, would you?” I click my tongue.
“Takes one overachiever to know another.”
God, I love when he meets me like this. Ready to dance in the flames.
“Have you ever been tempted?” Cocking my head to one side, I let my eyes linger on the camera.
“Tempted? To cheat? Or tempted by you , Sage.” He growls, and it doesn’t fucking matter how far away this man is; I feel a shudder roll straight down to my toes. “Because those are two very different things. The first, no. Never. The second, I’m barely hanging on by a goddamn thread. I’m getting closer to snapping the longer I’m around you.”
My tongue runs a line along my bottom lip, and I swear to god, even though I can’t see his face, it’s as though I can feel him track that movement through the phone screen.
“Is it cheating if you’re not here?”
He remains silent. It’s so fucking sexy I can’t breathe.
“You don’t have to watch, but I like it when I know someone might see. Maybe that’s my third weakness… having an audience.”
As I say the words, I become bolder. He hasn’t ended the call. If I know anything about this man by now, he’s likely caught in his own head, battling all the reasons why we shouldn’t be as attracted to each other as we seem to be.
So, I make the decision for him.
He’s suffering through wanting me? Well, I’m going to show him just how much I want him, too. In the worst kind of way.
Sliding my knees wide, I give him an unhindered view of my panties below the loose hem of my t-shirt. From this angle, he will be able to see the strip of fabric covering my entrance—he will have an unhindered view of the soft material seated directly over my pussy.
“You’re just watching, baby,” I murmur as my fingers trace the soft swell of my inner thighs. “Maybe you’ll let yourself enjoy this. Maybe you’ll wrap your fist around your dick and touch yourself for me. Or, maybe you’ll be a good boy and wait ‘til I’m done, then get yourself off after.”
All I hear over the blood rushing in my ears is another chink of ice cubes. There’s every possibility that after tonight’s show of unbridled exhibitionism, I’m forever going to feel my pussy clench upon hearing that particular sound. With each sip he takes of his drink, Beau is successfully imprinting the sound of whiskey on the rocks in my memory. A damn reward for being the perfect performance… just for him.
I walk my fingers along the edge of the fabric covering my soaked entrance. The panties I have on are white cotton, so guaranteed he’ll be able to see what awaits to be discovered there straight away.
In the camera, I notice it myself. A darkened patch of wetness giving away all my secrets where this man is concerned.
The material is absolutely drenched.
“You don’t need to know that I’m thinking about you while I’m playing with myself… while I’m stroking my pussy late at night, wishing it was your hand between my legs.” As I keep my gaze fixed straight down the lens, I drag my fingers over the spot just above my core, before shifting up to seek out my clit.
A hum of pleasure escapes me. The throbbing ache there is so delicious when I give a little pressure, fondling myself ever so slowly. Through the camera, I can see my hardened nipples poking against the front of my t-shirt. With each shift of my hand, rubbing and circling across the damp cotton, that fabric drags over my sensitive tits.
“You don’t need to hear about all the little daydreams I keep having about that night on Devil’s Peak… when I wanted you to say fuck it, wanted you to slip your leash and let your hands find my waist.”
My weight sinks further into the pillows at my back the longer I keep stroking and playing. I like how this angle looks on the camera. While there’s nothing showing , it’s the act of the tease that makes it so much hotter. A shadowy crease at the tops of my thighs. A peaked outline of my nipples. A deeper flush to my mouth. It’s sensual and erotic and plays right into the side of me who loves to put on a show for an appreciative audience.
“No, I don’t think you need to know that I can’t stop thinking about what might have happened if you’d pushed me up against that hay bale, like a true cowboy. For your mouth to suck down on my neck, to nibble that spot… you know the one… that special little place that acts like a mute button for the brain.”
There’s absolutely no way to know what Beau is doing. My only certainty is that the call hasn’t ended, and if that’s the case, then he’s still watching. Knowing he’s in this with me, allowing me to indulge this side of myself, well, that sets my blood aflame.
I glide my hand down the side of my panties and keep my eyes locked on the camera. No going back now.
Hitching the fabric, I slip my fingers beneath and brush over my swollen clit. “I’m not gonna tell you that I wish you would turn up at my door. I’m not gonna tell you just how hot it would be sucking your dick while I use a toy in this spot right here.” My breathing quickens as sparks shoot through my limbs, and my fingers rub firm circles.
God. I’m so close already.
“All you’re doing is watching me push my fingers into my wet pussy.”
Slipping my hand lower, I press forward when I come into contact with my slippery arousal. Can he hear just how slick I am? It certainly sounds loud enough to my ears; lewd, wet sounds of my two fingers easing into my entrance fill the empty room.
The scene on camera is only a partial glance, a half-covered sight of my core. My panties show off my pussy where they’re pulled to one side. The softness of my thighs tremble as my climax draws nearer.
All I can think of is him . Of this man lying in his bed hundreds of miles away, staring at my fingers frantically working beneath that soaked material. Is he joining me in this? Is he stroking his dick to the sight of me? What does Beau Heartford look like with stiff cock in hand, caught up in the temptation of watching something as forbidden as this—someone he’s convinced himself he shouldn’t have?
Imagining all that… I’m just about done for.
“I know we can’t.” Sliding my fingers up to seek out my clit, the ache there is desperate to be relieved. “… this is too complicated.” I press down and circle hard, the wave rising and racing toward me now. “... we have to forget this ever happened.”
My words begin to falter.
“But, fuck, do I wish… wish things were different.” I gasp as pleasure swells. Surging to claim me with a roar in my ears and sparks forming behind my eyes.
My climax crashes, erasing everything, leaving me speechless. It takes everything in me to keep my eyes fixed on my phone, where I hope to god he’s transfixed. I hope he’s seeing every shake and tremor roll through my limbs. I come so fucking hard, my pulse pounds a frantic beat, and I’m damn near panting.
A curve touches my lips, because that felt so sinfully wicked, and yet so incredible. I’m floating and glowing all over as I drag my hand out of my underwear.
With a soft hum of satisfaction, I bring my knees together and clamber forward to lean close to the camera. Before reaching to pick up my phone, I let myself tilt my head and cast a dreamy look at my invisible playmate for this devious little game. If there was ever any doubt that my halo has long since been misplaced, I cement things in that regard. Bringing my hand up, I run my tongue along both knuckles, then suck down on my fingers.
That’s it. That’s the itch scratched, I tell myself as I taste my arousal.
While I’ll never know what it’s like to have Beau in the way I want, he just gave me a way to act out a little forbidden fantasy. And that will have to do. It’ll have to be enough.
As I pull my fingers from my mouth, I let my teeth sink into my bottom lip for a lingering moment. Perhaps I’m waiting, giving him an opportunity to say something… to my disappointment, he doesn’t.
Silence hangs around me as I watch myself on the screen.
“ Mmm . Now that’s certainly a memorable conversation, Beau Heartford.” With a wink, I reach forward and pick up the phone.
I’m under no delusion; this man won’t break his rules. Not for a girl like me. So I allow my thumb to hover over the red circle and give a little smile. One that tells him that I know tomorrow, in the cold light of day and with veins free of whiskey, he’ll be back to how things have to be in his mind.
“Good night, Cock Ring.”