Chapter 7
chapter seven
patrice
I was in bed already when I felt my phone buzz with a message containing a selfie from Easton.
My heart raced from just seeing his face.
He was standing in his room, and there was enough of his bare chest in the picture that I could see a little bit of the patch of hair he had between his pecs.
The same patch of hair that I’d run my lips over almost obsessively last summer.
Seeing it now made me recall exactly how warm his skin always felt, the way he was always eager for my touch.
I was really tripping.
I’d felt too tight in my own skin all day, wishing I was in Ithaca and could show up at Easton’s door and end this game we’d been playing for weeks now.
I ran my fingers over the screen of my phone, considering my next move.
I was always overthinking, calculating the many pitfalls that could come with being impulsive, of letting my feelings get the best of me.
That’s why dating had always been on the backburner, something I couldn’t afford to throw myself into.
There was too much at stake for distractions.
But now, with tenure looming further in the distance, life didn’t feel like an obstacle course. I felt like I could look around, like I could relax, and the only thing I wanted was more of Easton.
I opened my texting app and typed the words before I reconsidered.
FaceTime me when you’re in bed, so I can say goodnight.
Regret hit me almost as soon as I sent the message, but I wasn’t taking it back. Still, I quickly dropped the phone on the table next to the bed and grabbed my Kindle, pretending to read while I waited to hear the buzz of a message, or a call coming in.
I was reading the same sentence for the fifth time when the phone started skittering on the wooded surface.
Instead of taking it, I got out of bed and ignored it, like a complete asshole.
I listened to the phone vibrating as I slowly turned off my Kindle, then walked to the bathroom and wrapped my locs.
I let myself feel the craving to see him, the butterflies in my stomach when the phone stopped buzzing.
I thought about Easton sitting there confused, wondering why I’d told him to call just so I could ignore his call, and hated myself a little.
Mind games, fuckboy shit…and why? Because I knew the moment I grabbed that phone, it was all over.
After I took my time with my locs and brushing my teeth, I walked back to the bedroom and picked up the phone as I got back in bed.
When I touched the screen I saw he left a message to call when I was ready.
Just like that. The tightness I’d been feeling all day started to loosen as I tapped my phone to call him back.
Inevitable.
I held the screen up to my face and waited. After only a few rings, Easton’s face filled it. His expression a mirror image of mine. Head propped on a pillow, his bare neck and chest visible on the screen.
He looked tired and so fucking beautiful, and the smile he gave me felt like what I’d been needing all day.
“Hey.”
I smiled back and greeted him. “Hey yourself, long day?”
He lifted a shoulder before answering, the weariness obvious in his expression. “It wasn’t particularly longer than any other day. We’re preparing for that case of the community college student who was assaulted by a classmate last year.”
I grimaced, remembering I’d seen the story about the upcoming trial a few days ago. “That must be intense.”
He nodded and ran his hand over his hair.
When he did, I could see the little mole right below his hairline.
It was funny, my friends always teased me about how casual, almost dismissive I was with the people I dated.
Not really paying attention to details, but with Easton, I’d memorized every centimeter of his body.
Each freckle and scar seared in my mind forever.
His body calling to me to touch whenever I was near.
After a moment, he answered with a tired smile still on his lips.
“Yeah, gearing up for a trial is always kind of grueling, but we have it mostly under control.” I could tell he wasn’t up to talking about his job anymore.
Easton did not like talking about his stress, or troubles.
He didn’t like talking about himself too much either.
Sunny, all the time.
It stung that I was yet one more person in his life he felt needed that from him.
I tried to focus on him and what he was saying and not get caught up in regretful thoughts for once. “We decided to take the weekend off to get some rest since the next two weeks are going to be hectic.” He tilted his head, eyebrows raised in question.
“How are the guys? Was soup night good?” Work talk was over then. Now it was my turn to fill the space. Tell him about my things, my people.
I exhaled, trying to remember the last time I’d been this intimate with someone I’d been dating.
I could not recall.
“Soup was good. My mother likes to monitor my wardrobe choices—which gets old—but I let her get away with it. It was great seeing everybody though. I went to see the latest superhero movie with Juanpa and Camilo after.”
“Nice,” he said with a bit more wistfulness than I’d expect. Easton seemed like the kind of guy who never wanted for social engagements or people to see. I always envisioned him surrounded by people wanting to be with him, but maybe that was just me projecting.
We were silent for a moment and I ran my eyes over the little bit of his body I could see.
He looked sleepy and soft and I wanted to be in that bed with him.
Make him feel good, lose myself in his body.
That was something that I’d only known with Easton, a chemistry and pull so powerful I’d forgotten everything else when we were together.
It had been a heady thing to feel. Desire so strong it drove me literally out of my head.
I noticed a little black satin pouch by his pillow and before I even opened my mouth, my heart started racing. “What is that?”
He turned his head in the direction I was pointing and looked at it, like he’d forgotten it was there, then his eyes widened in surprise. But when he turned his attention back to me, the wicked smile, which usually meant dirty delicious things were about to happen, made an appearance.
“It was a gift from Priscilla; she brought it when she was in town last week.”
“Oh?” I asked in a voice that was more growl than anything else.
Nesto’s cousin and Easton’s best friend, Priscilla, was a police detective whose side hustle was an online sex-positive toy shop. She loved giving all of us freebies.
I smiled at the wicked expression on his face. “So you’re one of the lucky recipients of Pris’s freebies.”
“Her deciding to open Come as You Are has been a boon for me. I’ve been really wanting to try this one.”
And that was all I needed to hear for my dick to get fully in the game. I groaned, shifting in the bed, my legs falling open to give myself more room. My pulse quickened with every lusty look Easton was flashing at me on that screen.
Fuck it. I was doing this.
“What is it?” I asked, committed to taking this shit wherever it needed to go, and Easton was fucking loving it, if that smirk on his face was any indication.
He took his time to answer, looking at me with just a hint of doubt in his eyes, as if asking “Are you sure you want to do this?”
I pushed the sheets off me and doubled down because as a matter of fact, I really fucking did want to do this.
“I want to see it. Right now.”
I wanted to push and prod until I had Easton panting.
It felt like the only thing in the world that mattered in this moment.
That dirty smile came back out and I pushed down the elastic band of my shorts so I could stroke my cock.
Already desperate to get this thing we were doing, whatever it was, started.
I shuddered out a breath as I saw Easton reach over and grab the pouch with his thumb and index finger, delicately placing it on his chest, his eyes locked on mine the whole time.
He blinked twice, the corners of his mouth pulling up as he fingered whatever was inside.
“This?”
I chuckled at his teasing, gripping my dick, and praying I didn’t come before I got to see his.
He was going to stretch this out, make me wait. Force me to be patient and to ask for what I wanted each step of the way.
I’d always been one for furtive encounters.
Quick and impersonal. Not with Easton; every night I’d spent with him had been intense and unhurried.
He’d refused to let me run out after a quick fuck.
Sure, I’d resisted, wanting to keep to my usual M.O.
, but Easton wanted what he wanted, and in the end, I’d stayed.
Hell, I’d come running back for more.
I would never admit it, but I was hooked on the way he made me tell him what I wanted. He never let me hide behind my mask.
I had to tear it off for Easton.
Name each and every one of the things I wanted from him. I could drown in the things Easton made me feel. I could barely keep my head above water now.
Still holding the phone up to his face, he took the toy out of the bag. It was a black curved silicone vibrator, the head a lot thicker than the base. I could already picture the look of ecstasy when he worked it inside of himself.
“I want to watch your face when you fuck yourself with it.” I stroked my cock again as a shiver ran up my spine.
He sucked his teeth in response, while a flush worked itself up his neck, his eyes fixed on what I was doing. “Let me see it.” I didn’t have to ask what he meant. “I’ve been dreaming about it for months.”
The way his breath caught on the last word told me that like me, he was touching himself, too turned on to stay still.
The wickedness that only showed up when Easton was in the picture bubbled up and suddenly I wanted to play. “What? This?” I moved the phone up so he could only see my chest, and over the speaker I heard a frustrated groan.