CHAPTER FOURTEEN #3
“I didn’t buy Blow Pops, thank you very much,” I reply like I won, even though he’s kind of right. I have three packages of Ding Dongs waiting for me in the pantry. I have a penchant for names. Why else did I hire Connor Cobalt as my tutor when I was at Penn?
“Anything else new?” Lo asks gently, but now that I look at him, I spot the fear pulsing behind his eyes.
He worries that I’ll be the changed one.
I feel the same, but I know, in time, that I’m going to be different.
Everyone eventually grows up. But if there’s anything I know for certain in this world—I never want to change without Loren Hale. We have to try to evolve together.
“I found a new freckle on my shoulder.” I try to show him, but I bump into the screen. “Oops…sorry.” I feel like I smacked him in the face or something. I tilt the computer back up and catch Lo grinning at me.
“Cute,” he says.
I flush, and he rolls his eyes at my reddening cheeks, but he’s still smiling. So that’s good.
“I have something new too.”
My eyebrows rise. Really? He grips the hem of his T-shirt, and then his eyes teasingly flit up to me, prolonging the moment.
Please don’t let it be a tattoo. Lo hates them, and the last thing I need is for him to declare his undying love with something he dislikes.
And I don’t necessarily want to stare at my name inked on his chest while we have sex. That’s a mood killer for me.
I realize I’m progressively moving closer and closer to the screen. I lean back so I don’t come across as a complete weirdo. “Come on,” I say with a groan as he just waits there with a silly smile. He’s killing me!
Finally, he tugs the shirt over his head, and he fixes his hair with his fingers, watching my expression which goes slack-jawed.
I squint, hoping this isn’t some sort of Skype Photoshop enhancement.
“Are those real?” I end up asking, my fingers subconsciously running over his muscles on the screen.
As though I can really touch them. Damn, I want to.
I have to back away from the screen again.
I think Lo received a pleasant view of my nose hairs.
He gives me a strange look and then laughs.
“No, I painted these on just for you.” Now shirtless, Lo cannot stop grinning.
I cannot stop staring. His abs are ripped.
Six-pack definition. He was muscular before, but they were not sharp like that .
His lean muscles curve and even have that sexy dip by his waist, as though leading my way to his cock.
This is so much better than a tattoo.
“I’ve been working out,” he explains. “We have a lot of recreational time. I spend most at the gym.” He licks his bottom lip, his eyes grazing my body. “Your turn.”
“I knew this was a trick to get me naked,” I say with a smile. “Just don’t get your hopes up. My boobs have not grown.”
“I love your boobs how they are.”
His husky voice makes me breathless. I blink a couple times and concentrate on “disrobing.”
I stole Rose’s cashmere sweater because I’m all out of clean clothes, and laundry is very low on my list of things I like to do.
I situate on my knees and tilt the screen up so he has a better view of my top-half.
My heart thrums as I watch the rise and fall of his chest in anticipation.
I’ve been naked so many times with Lo, but never over a computer screen.
It’s a little different—the distance, the inability to physically touch.
But maybe it’s a good different, almost more exciting.
I gradually pull the sweater over my head, my breasts pushed up in a black bra. My breathing deepens as I watch the way he stares, his eyes lowering and then trailing back up, as if his lips make their usual descent along my breasts and belly.
I want him to take me in his arms and push his whole weight on me. I want to feel his hardness against me—his muscles pin me to the mattress. To be buried beneath his love and his warmth.
“Where are you?” I whisper, plans to find him, to curl up in his arms, invade my mind.
“Right here. With you,” he whispers back, not offering me anymore, but those words are enough to steal my breath and cause my mouth to open.
I keep my eyes on him and imagine his hand doing what mine does.
Unclipping the clasp of my bra. Letting the straps slide down my shoulders and to the keyboard .
He looks at me like he wants to tug me into his hard chest and hold me tightly, like he’s seconds from sucking on my bottom lip, from biting and then plunging his tongue inside. He’ll rock against me and whisper my name until my back arches. Until I cry into his shoulder.
My nipples stand at attention, his gaze intensifying parts of my body that haven’t been lit up in months.
His eyes return to mine, and they’re swimming with eagerness.
Phone sex could never work with us. I would miss the looks and glances and the way he devours my body with his amber eyes.
He makes me feel utterly and unequivocally gorgeous.
He alone can claim that feat.
Slowly, he begins to slide off his track pants, and I start unbuttoning my jeans.
We glimpse each other often, trying to catch the other’s sensual, measured, unhurried movements.
Everything below my waist is blocked from his sight, and likewise, the screen cuts him off at his lower abs.
The allure of what lies beneath heightens my pulse, heat gathering across my brow.
Clumsily, I wiggle out of my jeans and kick them off the bed.
Now on my knees, Lo has a nice view of my green cotton panties.
I plop back on my butt so he can only see me waist-up.
While Lo undresses, I catch a view of the bulge in his black boxer-briefs.
The spot between my legs starts to throb again, aching for something hard to fill it and to thrust for a long, long while.
The silence drags out the tension, nothing but our heavy and shallow breathing.
I wait motionless while he removes his last piece of clothing.
My eyes fix on the screen in case I can glimpse his cock.
But it doesn’t make an appearance. Lo successfully strips off his boxer-briefs without flashing me. Boo.
He raises his boxer-briefs to the camera, dangling them from a finger victoriously before tossing them aside. His eyes meet mine in challenge. My turn.
With one hand, I brace myself on the mattress, and with the other, I roll my panties down my ankles. I bend forward to pull them over my feet, and I think I end up giving Lo a full-screen shot of my boobs in the process. He’s getting way more out of this deal than me. That’s for sure.
My panties rest in my hand, but they are way too soaked for me to lift them up in triumph. I’m about to fling them on the floor when Lo says, “You’re not going to show me?”
Great. I turn them around so he has a view of the butt and hold them to the camera for a split second.
“Let me see the crotch,” he urges in a soft voice. So demanding.
My eyes widen, and I shake my head quickly. No, no that will not be happening.
The corner of his lip rises. “Come on, Lil,” he breathes. “I can’t touch you. How else am I going to know how wet you are?”
I exhale a long, deep breath. I swallow hard and have the sudden longing to run my fingers right over my sweet spot. To feed the monster inside of me.
I take a trained breath and focus on Lo. “Let me see your cock first.” My voice comes across more pleading and desperate than I intended. I don’t even know why I want to see it. It’s not like he can enter me through the computer screen. Really, it’ll only torture me more.
“Not yet, love,” he tells me sweetly.
“Then I’m not showing you my panties again,” I refute stubbornly.
I cross my arms over my breasts. For as long as I can remember, I always get what I want during sex.
Or at least, I try to. And since I’ve been with Lo, he’s been more than welcoming to give in to my desires.
I didn’t realize how difficult succumbing to his orders would be until now.
I have to relinquish my control to him—to trust him, to put all my sexual needs into his care.
It’s not so easy for me.
“That’s not how this works,” Lo says. “I’m in charge. If I tell you to come, you’ll come. If I tell you to stop, you’ll stop. ”
I need boundaries to harness my compulsions. We’ve talked about this , I remind myself. I drop my arms, exposing my breasts again for him. That’s a start. Lo will provide the guidelines for my limits so I don’t overdo it. I just need to learn how to accept them.
Lo has given himself completely to me. It’s my turn to let him have me.
I obey his first command and turn my panties inside out and raise them to the screen, silently hoping the computer isn’t high-definition. Though, clearly, they’re soaked.
“Satisfied?” I ask after a few seconds.
“Immeasurably.” His grin softens my heart, and my stomach flutters, weakening my resolve. This taunting can’t go on for much longer.
I toss the panties on the floor, and he shifts a little on his bed. But I still can’t see below his waist.
“Hold up your hands,” Lo orders.
I frown and raise my palms to the computer. He gazes at me for a long moment, and I suddenly realize what he’s about to do. I open my mouth to complain, but he cuts me off. “I want us to come together,” he says seriously. “Keep your hands up and when I tell you to touch yourself, you can.”
I surrender at the words come together . I can’t stop nodding, and another smile quirks his lips. Slowly, his hand lowers, and his eyes flicker down a little. His camera is still angled so I can’t see anything below his waist. Maybe that’s the point. Some things are hotter left unseen.