Chapter 12
Bex
“ Y ou’re wearing that?” Ally’s pointed question stops me as I walk from the kitchen back to my room, a bottle of wine and a glass in my hand. Her words have me glancing down at what I’m wearing—a pair of sweats and my favorite tank top—and then second guessing my outfit choice.
“So?”
Ally rolls her eyes, sighing. “Isn’t this the first time he’s seen you in a week?”
I peek at my phone to check the time—Corey should be calling me in a few minutes. “Yeah…”
She shrugs. “I guess it’s fine, but last week you were grinding your pussy on his face, and now you’re like… all comfy, cozy. It’s like whiplash.” Ally returns her focus to the smutty romance book she’s reading, disregarding the stunned expression on my face.
I hesitate, waiting to see if there’s more to be critiqued about my outfit, before heading into my room and locking my door. Not that I’m expecting anything inappropriate to happen on this call with Corey, but I want zero interruptions. I’ve been looking forward to this for days, and the promise of seeing Corey’s face tonight pulled me through one of the most challenging shifts I’ve had at Bravado yet.
I slide onto my bed, lying on my stomach, prop my phone up on my pillows, and wait. He said he would call around 9 p.m. and it is a few minutes after. The longer I lie here, the more I overthink Ally’s comment, and just when I start to convince myself to put on something else, my phone begins to buzz.
Thoughts about my appearance vanish as I swipe to answer Corey’s call, shoving my bluetooth headphones in my ears in a rush.
My heart stutters as his handsome face takes up the screen of my phone. Internally, I’m cursing myself for not getting the largest possible phone screen the last time I upgraded, because this man needs to be so much larger than this little screen right now. His freshly showered hair is a bit longer on the top than the last time I saw him. When he smiles, the laugh lines around his eyes are more pronounced and they trace a trail to the salt and pepper streaks at his temples. Corey is so fucking handsome, and I feel a physical pang in my heart.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he says, his tone laced with exhaustion.
“Corey.” That’s all I’m able to say. Simply breathe out his name because all the words I had planned to say over the last twenty-four hours have vanished out of my brain and into thin air. His eyes are so warm and comforting—I would be content to simply sit here and stare at him.
“You look so beautiful, Bex,” he says, eyes wide with appreciation .
“Certainly not my finest look,” I say, pushing myself up to sit back on my feet. My phone slips at my movement, so I lean down to straighten it.
“I absolutely disagree,” Corey groans. “Stay right there, yeah… just like that.”
I’m leaning down, one hand holding my phone in place and the other on my hip. In this position, it looks like I’m kneeling and looking down at my phone… giving Corey the perfect view of my cleavage.
“Oh, I see why you like this look,” I say, deciding to pick my phone up and roll onto my back. This is less comfortable, having to hold the phone above my face, but surely—Corey shakes his head, chuckling. The sound elicits butterflies in my belly, and I take a deep breath. “Okay, what now?”
“I don’t want to tell you, baby, because then you’ll move. And I like this view better.”
Baby. Hearing that word from his mouth, directed toward me, sends those butterflies soaring into a frenzied flight. “What’s so special about this view?” I’m teasing him, but his dark eyes are sparkling, so I know he’s enjoying this.
“I’ll have to show you the next time we’re together,” he says. “How was your day?”
I shrug, not wanting to get into details about the customers who stiffed me all day and the bachelor party that was a bit too handsy. “It was… fine. It was okay. Just another day, serving drinks and living the dream.” I’m unable to keep the bitterness from my tone, and Corey pounces on it.
“Bex, if I ask you a question, can you give me an honest answer?”
“Of course.” We barely know each other—hell, I have customers I’ve known longer than him, and I’m talking about my regulars—but there’s something about him that draws me to a place of safety and comfort. And, who are we kidding, insane horniness. But talking to him like this, about something mundane, like how my day went? It feels vulnerable, but my gut says “yes” to him, every time.
“If you could do anything you wanted with your life, reality and expectations be damned… what would you do?”
Well shit, that’s a good question, and absolutely not what I was expecting him to ask. “That’s… a pretty deep question,” I say, smiling as I reach for the wine. “One that I can answer better once I sip some of this.”
“Mmmm, good idea. Let me grab something to drink,” he says, setting his phone down on what looks to be a counter. As he steps away, I almost drop the glass I’ve just poured.
“Holy shit, Corey! You look… incredible.” I stutter through the words because I’m so taken aback at the sight of his muscled chest and arms, the smattering of hair across his chest, and then down beneath his navel where… of-fucking-course, there’s a perfectly sculpted V pointing directly to his low hanging gray sweatpants. My blush deepens when I see the way he’s smirking at me, at my reaction.
“Ah, c’mon, sugar. Nothing you haven’t seen of me before… right?”
I take a large sip of wine before shaking my head. “I haven’t lied to you, Corey. I, er, haven’t looked up any of your work since I met you.” He narrows his eyes slightly, trying to call my bluff. “I swear! Britney and Ally, well, they’re another story. I’m sure they’ve seen all your greatest scenes by now.”
Corey laughs, a deep bark, as he walks away from his phone. I get a glimpse of a spacious living area, a wall of windows at the far end of the space, and a comfy couch. The ceiling looks pretty high; I wouldn’t be surprised if he lives in one of those mansions on the coast. I’ve always dreamed of living somewhere like that one day.
He comes back into view, and he’s sipping on some water. “You’re really being good with your whole routine, huh?” I ask, nodding toward the water as he drinks.
“Yeah, it would be kind of pointless to put in the work and then sabotage myself in between. Definitely not a lifestyle I could pull off forever,” he mumbles, setting his water down. He picks up his phone, and from the way he falls backward, settles on the couch. “Don’t let this body distract you from the question,” he says.
“Ah, yes. If I could do anything in my life…” I sigh, taking another sip of wine. The question holds such weight, mostly because I’ve been asking myself a variation of that question for most of my life. “What do I want to do?”
“What would make you happy?” Corey adds.
“Honestly, I’m happy right now. Sure, my job can be shit some days, but aren’t all jobs like that?” I tilt my head, mentally categorizing segments of my life. “I have friends who I love and spend time with. They’re really like my family. And I live in an exciting, fun city.”
“But? I’m sensing there’s a ‘but’ there.”
“But I wish I could do more. I wish I had a job where I could help people in a meaningful way. More of what I do at the youth center, with the kids.” I glance up at the wall, where I have a little collage of some of my past student’s work, and I feel a tug in my chest. “I guess that’s why I fell into the hospitality industry in the first place. It’s like helping people on a micro level. I want to go macro one day.”
Corey sighs, and murmurs, “You are so incredible, Bex. From what I’ve learned of you, helping people is core to who you are. It’s a beautiful thing. ”
Blush spreads across my cheeks and chest again—will I ever stop blushing around this man?! Our conversation continues, mostly Corey asking about my job, my friends, and the youth center. It feels almost domestic, and the earlier feelings of comfort and safety continue to grow as we speak.
“Enough about me,” I finally say. “How is LA? How is work?”
Corey’s smile falters slightly before he says, “Ah, same old shit. My trainer is kicking my ass, but I think it’s paying off. Can you tell?”
He sits up straighter on the couch and flexes; his abs are so chiseled and cut, he must feel like a rock. Even though it’s only been a week, he looks leaner than he did in Vegas. Corey laughs as I continue to stare, my mouth unable to do anything but gape in admiration.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he says. “What was that thing you wanted to show me?”
His prompt jerks me out of my gaze. I giggle, setting down my wine and sliding off the bed. “Let me grab it.” I cross the room to my desk, where the matte black package has been sitting for a few days. Carrying it back into view, Corey puts a hand over his eyes, groaning. “Do you know what this is? Ally and Britney ordered it for me after they met you at the club. I thought they were kidding, but apparently not…”
Corey drops his hand and scoots closer to the edge of the couch toward his phone. “Why don’t you tell me?” He smirks, and I know he knows. He just wants to hear me say it.
Heat coils low in my belly. “Well, I haven’t opened it yet,” I say. His brows raise as if in question. “Because if it’s what I think it is… I’d rather wait for the real thing.”
The smirk vanishes from his face, and he leans even closer to his phone. “Tell me what you think it is, Bex,” he says, the gravelly tone to his voice twisting that heat in my belly into knots .
“Is this a Frank Moro-shaped dildo?” I ask, biting my lip.
Corey nods, his gaze hooded and hungry. “I recognize the packaging from my online store,” he says darkly. “You promise you’ve been a good girl? You haven’t peeked yet?”
I shake my head, the twisted heat in my belly spreading throughout my body at his words of praise. “No, sir,” I say. I’m not sure why I say it, but it feels right, and seeing the immediate effect the words have on Corey has me clenching my thighs together.
“Bex,” he says my name almost reverently. “You have no idea how hard I am right now, hearing you say that.”
I swallow hard and set the box aside. Screw waiting to see it in person. “Show me,” I say.
Corey moans, throwing his head back against the couch. “Fuck, Bex.” His hands are on his thighs, his fingers digging into the fabric of his sweatpants. He sits up and leans forward again. “If I take my cock out…” He sighs, as if wrestling for the right words to say. “If I do this, I’m gonna give you a show.”
Unable to contain myself, I let out a whimper. “Yes, please.”
“On one condition.” The smirk is back on his face, but this time it’s wicked, teasing.
“Anything,” I say quickly, breathlessly.
Corey tilts his head. “I’ll give you a show, but you just watch. Keep that sexy lounge set on and don’t touch yourself.”
I’m nodding before he even finishes. “Easy.”
“Hmmm,” he says, shifting back on the couch, making himself more comfortable. “We’ll see about that.” Corey slowly runs a hand down his chest, over his abs, down to where his sweatpants are tented with his arousal. His heated gaze remains on me the entire time as he rubs himself through his sweatpants. “You ready for the show, baby? ”
“Yes, sir,” I can’t help but say, now knowing how it affects him.
“Oh, fuck,” Corey moans, using both hands to slide his sweatpants and briefs down to his knees. His erection springs free, and I gasp so loud, Corey hears it and chuckles. “So, you really haven’t peeked,” he says, fisting his cock and giving himself a few soft, slow tugs.
There’s really no other way to describe his dick other than perfect. And huge. He’s long and thick, and currently deliciously veiny and red. Corey strokes himself a few times, running his thumb over the head, spreading a generous amount of precum up and down his shaft.
Watching him this way feels illicit—as he strokes himself, bites his lip, and moans. I find myself biting my lip, my hands itching to touch myself, even though he told me not to.
“What are you thinking about?” I ask softly, not sure if he even heard me over his grunts and moans.
Corey squeezes his cock tighter, then pauses his strokes to say, “I’m thinking about the next time I see you. How I won’t be able to control myself. How badly I want to be inside you right now…” He starts stroking again, moaning, “Fuck, Bex.”
Suddenly, it gets rough, faster, his hips thrusting up with every stroke. We are both panting, but only one of us is headed for immediate relief. I want to touch myself so badly; I am so wet right now that I’ve soaked through my panties. I can feel the wet spot on my sweats.
“Bex,” he growls. My attention snaps toward him. “Eyes on me, baby. Watch me come for you.”
“Oh, fuck, Corey,” I moan softly. My hips are moving involuntarily, seeking relief but grinding against nothing.
“Bex,” he chokes out one last time, shouting out as his cock throbs in his grip. Come pulses from his cock, two long streaks against his defined abs, then trickles down the base of his length, over his hand .
As he catches his breath, Corey finally breaks his gaze from mine.
“Holy fuck,” I whisper, thankful I remembered to wear my headphones for this call, although I was certainly not expecting this.
Corey chuckles and reaches toward his end table, where he grabs a tissue. As he cleans himself up, he asks, “Was it worth it?”
“Was it worth not watching any of your videos or peeking at the silicone dildo modeled after your beautiful cock?” I stammer out the words. “Yeah, it was really fucking worth it.”
He pulls his sweatpants up and leans forward, picking up his phone and holding it closer to his face. “You are so beautiful, Bex. Watching you watch me… that’s the hottest thing I’ve done in a long fucking time.”
My clit pulses at his confession, and I open my mouth to respond, but he cuts me off.
“I’m gonna be nice,” he says, that smirk on his face again. “It’s getting late, and I have to be up at 5 a.m. to get to the gym. So, I’m gonna let you go.”
My brow furrows in confusion. “How is that nice?” I say, pouting.
“Because once this call is over, I want you to get that beautiful ass in bed and get yourself off,” he says in a raspy voice. “You deserve it for being such a good girl.”
Corey winks and the call ends.
“That motherfucker!” I shout, tossing my phone onto the bed. Even with my headphones in, I can hear Ally and Britney snickering in the living room. I don’t even care what they heard.
I take another sip of my wine before slipping my clothes off, grab my toy from my nightstand drawer, and follow Corey’s orders. With the image of him jerking off still fresh in my mind, and the memory of him moaning my name, it doesn’t take me long to come at all. It’s almost unsatisfying and slightly lonely.
Picking up my phone, I text him.
Bex: When the fuck are you coming back to Vegas?!