Chapter 12 #2
First, he tips his head back on the pillows, and his eyes fall closed. Then his hand traces a slow path across his chest until he holds his pec in his palm. His thumb and forefinger circle the nipple and then give it a pinch. “Mmm,” he sighs, and suddenly I have goosebumps everywhere.
“Canning.”
“Yeah?”
“I am so fucking hard right now.”
He smiles without opening his eyes. “How hard is it?”
A bark of laughter escapes me. “Lose the rest of your clothes, babe. I want to see you.”
First he groans and stretches, making me wait.
Then his chocolate eyes open again, and he licks his lips.
I lose him on camera again and the room rolls under his motions.
A few seconds later the camera tips slowly back toward vertical, and I have a view of Jamie’s bent leg, his perfect hip, an oblique taste of his ass in shadow and most of his very bare chest. He must have propped the tablet up on my side of the bed.
His hand is between his legs, but I can only see the curve of his biceps and his muscular forearm. The rest is hidden from view.
“That’s just mean,” I say, and he grins. “If I were there, I’d…”
“What?” he asks in a rough voice. “Tell me exactly what you’d do first.”
“I’d suck on your tongue until you got hard.” Jamie’s mouth is his most pronounced erogenous zone. The man can practically come from me chewing on his lips.
“Too late,” he says, dropping his leg to the bed. And there’s my prize. I groan at the sight of Jamie’s erection rising proudly from the thicket of pale, soft hairs at his groin. Even after these eight months, I still feel lucky every time he responds to me.
“God, I want a taste.” My voice is gravel.
“Are you leaking for me? Get that drop. Use one finger.” Don’t I feel like a bossy motherfucker tonight.
My gaze is glued to the screen, though. He’s really the one in charge.
If that weren’t true, I wouldn’t be gripping myself over my sweatpants now, salivating at the view on the screen.
He does as I ask. He swipes one finger over his cockhead. Then he looks me right in the eye and licks his finger.
“Unngh,” I say, and he sucks on his finger just to torture me. And I fucking love it. “Stroke yourself, now.” I can’t wait any longer. “Use one hand.”
Jamie slides his hand down his chest and takes himself in hand. He gives his cock two good strokes.
“Slower,” I demand. “That’s it,” I encourage when his movements turn languorous. His chest rises and falls with each breath, and his forehead is creased with tension. “Do you want to come, Canning?”
“Yeah,” he breathes. “Been thinking about you a lot today. Waiting for your game to start…” He strokes himself a little faster.
And I’m practically vibrating from the news that Jamie misses me.
I haven’t messed things up too badly. Or maybe I have, and it’s just that our sexual chemistry isn’t one of those things.
We might be awful communicators lately, but turning each other on has never been a problem for us.
“Cup your balls,” I offer. “If I was there, I’d suck on ’em.” He groans, and his eyes grow heavy-lidded. “I’d taste you everywhere. Every fucking place. Lube you up with my tongue.” His rhythm falters just a little. His head falls back further, and he widens his legs, as if opening his body to me.
That’s when looking isn’t enough anymore.
My own hand sneaks into my sweatpants, unbidden.
I grip my cock and give it a squeeze. Screw it.
I rise up on my knees and yank down my sweats.
The angle of the tablet on the bed makes my dick appear comically large.
It would be funny if I weren’t so horny. I pump myself in earnest.
“Want you so bad, babe.” My voice comes out as a gasp.
Jamie turns his head to see the screen. His lips part slightly as he tracks the frantic motion of my hand.
His fist moves faster too, matching my tempo.
For the first time all week, we’re in sync.
We’re not even in the same room, yet I feel closer to him than I have in days, and we’re so hot for each other right now that we’re both panting and groaning and tugging our cocks with damn near desperation.
“Gonna come,” he moans.
“Do it,” I moan back. “Shoot on your chest.”
He makes a beautiful sound, and a pearly ribbon of perfection paints a line down his abs. His six-pack clenches as he shoots again. And again.
Me too. I fuck my hand hard and fast. I want to be home with him so badly it aches. But the last dregs of my game-night adrenaline still fuel me. All that anguish and longing surge down my spine and I erupt in my own hand.
A minute passes while I calm down. Wordlessly, Jamie disappears from view. I clean myself up and wait for him to reappear.
After a minute or so, he slides into bed, under the covers this time. Then he rolls to face the camera, his smooth cheek propped in his hand. “I spoke to Jess today,” he starts.
I smile. I love Jamie’s youngest sister. She’s the flightiest chick I’ve ever met, but boy is she entertaining. “How’s she doing? Still designing jewelry?”
He chuckles, and the sound warms my heart. “Nope. Now she wants to be a party planner.”
“Of course she does.”
“Hey, she might be good at it.” But he’s still chuckling even as he comes to his sister’s defense. Then he goes quiet for a beat, and just like that, my nerves are raw again.
“What’s wrong?” I ask gruffly.
I see the telltale dip of his Adam’s apple as he swallows. “Nothing. Well, something. Not wrong, really, but just some things I wanted to get off my chest.” Another beat. “But it can keep.”
My throat is so tight I can barely speak. “Jamie…” That’s all I manage to get out.
“You look beat,” he says firmly. “You should get some sleep. We’ll talk when you get back.”
Talk...or break up?
I think he sees the panic on my face, because he lets out another breath, then speaks in a firm voice. “I love you. So much.”
My heart does a little flip. He sounds like he means it.
Damn it, of course he means it, I assure myself. We fucking love each other. “I love you, too,” I say softly.
A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Good. Now go to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.”