Chapter 6
Liz, February 24
I’m in the middle of planning out my lessons for next week, multiple resources scattered across the desk in front of me, when my Skype notification signals a call. I answer it, and handsome, grinning Ben fills my screen. He’s lounging at his computer desk, his chair tilted precariously onto two legs. The teacher in me wants to tell him to sit flat before he falls, but I bite my tongue and resist.
Over his blue-shirted shoulder, I spot the bedspread pulled haphazardly over his sheets—his attempt at making things look presentable. His door is pulled shut. I take in his face as I smile. Ben’s eyes are positively flashing. He’s either about to share some exciting news, or he’s feeling randy.
“Hi beautiful,” Ben practically purrs. “What are you up to?”
Randy it is.
“Hi Ben.” I shut the book nearest to me, check my appearance quickly in the smaller window, and turn up my smile. “Just lesson planning, nothing you can’t drag me away from.”
“Good.” That naughty flare in his green eyes confirms it.
“Ben, are you feeling playful?” I tease.
“Playful?” His eyebrows fly up. “How could I feel anything else with you looking like that?”
I glance down at my outfit. He can see the green tank top I’m wearing, though the tight, bun-hugging jeans are lost offscreen. The top dips a little low, but not enough to give him much from his vantage point.
“Whatever do you mean?” I feign innocence, but use my elbows to push my breasts together. Cleavage rises to the top of the collar, giving him a better view.
I’m rewarded with a strangled sound from Ben.
“You drive me crazy,” he growls. Ben makes crazy sound like a pleasant trip.
“Good.” I smile, though I doubt he’s looking at my face just now.
“Do you know what I would do to you if I were there?” Ben’s voice drops seductively, his body leaning toward the screen like he’s caught in a magnetic pull.
Do you know what the sexiest thing a man can do is? Treat you like you’re the sexiest thing. Ben’s gaze is drinking me in, and apparently the boy is parched.
“What would you do?” My voice dips to match his.
“I would tear that shirt off you.”
“Funny, I was thinking I’d do the same to you.”
Ben grabs the hem of his blue T-shirt and pulls it up just enough to flash me a glimpse of his abs flexing underneath. “This shirt?” he teases.
My heartbeat quickens and my face flushes. I nod, and he lifts the shirt over his head in one deft motion. My hand reaches for the screen reflexively as my body floods with desire.
“Does that chest feel as good as it looks?” I wonder aloud.
Ben runs his hand across his pectorals, then traces his fingers slowly down to his abdominals. “They’re hard and strong,” he tells me.
A soft purr escapes my lips.
“Now, your shirt,” he demands.
I stand and pull the green tank over my head. My face and chest burn as I blush at being exposed.
Ben smiles. “Now the bra, please.”
I comply, tossing the black lace to the floor, though I keep my left arm crossed protectively over my breasts.
“Tease.” He cocks an eyebrow and winks.
I drop my arm, and his guttural moan rewards me.
“Beautiful.”
My blush deepens with the compliment.
“Rub them for me,” Ben pleads.
I obey, and on screen he leans back, slipping his hand into his jeans. I unbutton my own, freeing my wrist so I can move more easily.
“How is it?” he rumbles.
“Wet,” I answer. My brain fogs with desire. I see the craving mirrored in Ben’s darkening eyes, green storm-tossed like a forest in a gale.
“Why don’t you get those jeans out of your way?” he asks.
I stand again, turning around first to wiggle my ass before sliding the denim down. When my thong is revealed, I hear his breath hitch. The power of having that effect on him surges through me like a drug. Confidence blooms, and soon I’m stepping out of my panties, dropping them on the growing pile of clothes.
When I sit back down, Ben has lowered his jeans just enough to free himself. He’s grown impressively, and the sight sends heat rushing through me.
“Come through the screen,” he begs.
“And straddle you?”
In answer, Ben’s hand moves faster.
I match his rhythm with my own, my gaze locked on the flex of his chest and the tension in his jaw. Pressure coils inside me, sharp and urgent, until a moan slips past my lips. I teeter on the edge, my head falling forward, eyes squeezed shut as release tears through me. My muscles clench tight around my fingers, and another cry escapes.
“Liz.” My name crashes through the air, but I can’t bring myself to look at him until my energy ebbs.
When I finally raise my gaze, Ben is wiping himself with a towel. “I’ll be right back, I need to clean up.” He smiles, then disappears.
I leave my chair to do the same.
At the sink, embarrassment slams into me. Regardless of how gorgeous Ben is, or how often we do this, I always feel exposed afterward. Sometimes even dirty. Honestly, it would be easier if I were actually doing this with him.
What am I saying? This is just fun. A release.
Back in my room, I slip into my clothes quickly, careful to stay out of the camera’s frame. When I sit again, Ben’s back in his chair, jeans on but chest bare. Tease.
“Feel better?” I ask, smiling coyly.
“Much. Thank you. You know, one of these days I’ll get you to look at me while you finish.”
“Good luck with that.” I blush and glance downward.
“After all this time, you still embarrass so easily.” Ben chuckles.
“I’m just naturally shy. Don’t take it personally.” My gaze drifts toward my unfinished lesson plans.
Ben notices. “I’ll let you get back to work, babe. Thank you for letting me distract you.”
His smile, when I bring my eyes up to meet it, warms my heart.
“Thank you for distracting me.” I wink. “Talk to you later?”
“Absolutely.” Ben disconnects.
I attempt to get back to work, but give up after a while and grab some food instead. While I eat, I think about Ben. That boy drives me absolutely crazy, and I kind of enjoy the ride. And that’s all this was supposed to be. Fun. A ride. But sometimes, when he smiled like that, I worried I was fooling myself.