Chapter 27
Twenty-Seven
Sawyer
Her eyes dance, and that smile of hers is sinful.
And hell if it doesn’t call to the devil inside me.
I prop my phone on the nightstand and whip off my shirt.
She chokes. “Sawyer!”
“What?” I ask innocently, sitting up and reaching for the waistband of my sweats.
“Saw—”
I shove them down, along with my underwear.
She gasps and falls silent.
I’m not a man who’s unused to being naked, but seeing her mouth fall open, her cheeks go pink, her gaze glued to my body…
Yeah, I fucking like it.
Grinning, I murmur. “What do I owe you, Pages?”
A blink, her mouth snapping closed. “Not fair,” she mutters. “You’re there looking all gorgeous and I can’t even touch you.”
“Well, I’m not the one who ordered me to get naked.” Unable to stand it, I wrap my hand around my cock and squeeze.
“You’re the one who’s standing there, all naked and hard and”—her breath catches when I stroke—“tempting and untouchable.”
I watch her lips part on a shaky breath, say softly, “The feeling’s mutual, babe.”
Her gaze comes to mine. “So, are you going to pay up?”
If I was able to actually think clearly, that might have sent a thread of worry through me—how could I possibly pay up? But I’m not thinking clearly, so I just order, “You’re going to get naked too.”
“Oh?” Her brows lift. “Why’s that?”
“Because we lost tonight and I owe you.”
“Hmm,” she says softly. “Me getting naked is for my benefit?”
“Absolutely, Pages.”
Her gaze drops to my hand, which is still wrapped around my cock…then she smiles. “All right, handsome. I’ll get naked.”
Now I’m the one who’s choking.
Because her phone is being propped up and her shirt is tugged off over her head and, holy hell, she must have the best tits on the planet.
“Take off your bra, baby.”
A pause, her fingers drifting over her chest, sliding down toward the simple cotton that may as well be the sexiest skimpiest lace for how my body reacts. Then she slips beneath the material and I watch her nipple bud and press against the fabric.
“Let me see you.”
Her fingers slide out and up along her chest, her throat…her lips.
Dipping into her mouth.
My dick twitches. “Pages.”
“Tsk. Tsk,” she says, that glistening finger sliding free. “This is your punishment.” It slides down her chest, over the tops of her breasts, pushes the fabric of her bra down.
I groan when her tits spring free, then again when she traces her finger around her nipple.
Then the other.
Her breath catches and she moans softly. “I wish you were here.”
Fuck, I’d give just about anything to be able to teleport right about now.
“Pretend I am,” I rasp.
Hot brown eyes on mine. “If you were here, what would you do?”
“I’d suck at those tits. Cup them in my palms, tease your nipples until you beg for more.”
“Yeah?” She massages and teases, her head falling back, her spine arching as she touches herself. “What else?”
“I’d kiss you until you couldn’t think, could barely breathe.”
“Would you touch yourself?” she asks.
“No,” I groan as she trails her hand down her belly. “I’d be too busy touching you.”
A soft laugh. “Yeah, I remember.” Her eyes lock with mine as she flicks open the button on her pants, tugs down the zipper. “Touch yourself now.”
My hand spasms so hard, I groan. “I’m already doing that, Pages.”
“Show me how you like it,” she murmurs, that hand sliding lower, dislodging her underwear, pushing down her pants, giving me a glimpse of that plump, slick pussy. “Show me how you touch yourself when you think about me.”
“Baby—”
That finger dips lower, lower. “Show me,” she orders.
I stroke myself faster, harder, gripping tightly, imagining it’s her hand on me, her fingers wrapped tight. Imagining that her soft moans as she touches herself are coming from beside me, from beneath me, not through my phone’s speaker.
“God, you’re so fucking beautiful,” I groan, hand moving faster. Too fast. So, I order, “Touch your clit.”
She laughs softly…then moans as she does exactly that. For a few seconds, anyway. Because then her gaze is fixing on mine and she’s ordering, “Cup your balls, handsome.”
Laughter in my chest, but my hand is moving before it escapes.
And then I’m groaning, my head dropping back to the pillows.
“I can’t wait to taste you,” she says. “I want to feel you on my lips, my tongue. Want you down my throat. Want—”
“Fuck!”
“I’m imagining you on top of me again, only this time it’s not your mouth and fingers.” Her chest heaves as she strokes herself, those tits bouncing as she works her clit. “You’re pushing inside me again, stretching me so wide it burns in the best fucking way.”
“Faster, baby,” I order, stroking myself harder, my orgasm so fucking close I can taste it.
“You’re fucking me hard,” she whispers. “So hard all I can do is hold on tight as you take me, so hard that I’ll feel you”—her breath hitches—“tomorrow—”
A moan.
Or maybe it’s that we’re both groaning as pleasure splinters through our bodies. My vision hazes, black intruding along the edges, as I come apart in the strongest orgasm I’ve had in…
Maybe ever.
By the time I manage to come back into my body and focus back on the phone, I find her looking—
Shy.
Now well, I didn’t expect that.
“Are you okay?” I ask, scooping up my underwear and attempting to clean myself up.
Her cheeks flush brighter as she tugs up her pants, pulls on her shirt. “I’m—” She pushes back those silky brown curls. “I don’t know what came over me,” she whispers. “That was…it was incredible, but I’ve never—”
“Had crazy, dirty phone sex?”
She groans and scrubs her hands over her face. “No. Yes! I mean, now I have, obviously, but…I’ve never been like that.” She drops her hands. “What are you doing to me, Sawyer Hill?”
I freeze, the afterglow of my orgasm fading.
Because…
Fuck.
What am I doing to her?