5. Gennie
CHAPTER FIVE
gennie
I’m up entirely too late for a woman who has her alarm set for five o’clock in the morning, and as it is, I don’t think sleep will come easily, like last night when I called Jett.
I’m currently tucked beneath my duvet, completely bare beneath the cool cotton sheets, and adrenaline is still thrumming through my body.
My skin feels overly sensitive, flush, and humming from a fire Gavin stirred inside me.
To be looked at the way he looked at me tonight—intense, unapologetic, with a hungry desire that’s completely foreign to me.
The sensible part of my brain is screaming at me to take things slow, that I probably need more time to lick my wounds from Bryce and his narcissistic tendencies, and maybe some more therapy, too.
Especially before letting a man like Gavin Rhodes lay claim to every inch of me.
Try telling that to the needy ache between my legs.
I’m attempting to distract myself and my thoughts by reading, but something tells me a spicy romance novel probably isn’t the best idea to calm my racing thoughts.
But as my eyes track across the words on the page, my phone on the bedside table vibrates across the wood.
My heart races inside my chest. Nobody calls this late at night unless something’s wrong.
I set my book down on my stomach, reach for the device, and swipe at the screen without checking the caller ID.
“Hello?” I murmur into the receiver, my voice raspy from the simmering-on-edge arousal all night and sheer exhaustion. A low sharp intake of breath sounds over the line, followed by a familiar voice.
“Fuck, Genevieve.” His soft growl settles low in my stomach. “You sound like you were thinking about me.”
“Gavin. I… I wasn’t. I mean, I just got into bed.” True to his word, he found my phone number before the night ended.
“Did you?” A quiet rustle comes through his end of the line, followed by the sounds of what I’m assuming is a belt buckle clinking, and then a thud of something hitting the floor. “What were you doing before I called?”
“Reading.” My mind is a scrambled mess envisioning him stripping while on the phone with me.
“Reading what, baby girl?”
“A book,” I answer vaguely, clutching the sheets by my side. “A romance novel.”
“Is it a good one?” There’s more rustling. Then his breathing changes, a little faster, a little rougher. “Is it turning you on?”
“Gavin.” I swallow hard, placing my cell between my cheek and my shoulder, battling with myself if I should answer him or not. Can I really do this?
“Tell me, baby girl. I want to know what’s happening on the page right now.” His tone is commanding, leaving me no other option but to answer.
“It’s, umm… a spicy scene,” I whisper into the quiet of my dimly lit bedroom.
“What kind?” he pushes, his tone deepening. “What are the characters doing?”
“She’s… she’s on her knees for him.” A heavy silence stretches across the line for a few seconds, filled with the sound of Gavin’s deep groan.
I can’t believe I’m doing this, actually doing this, and with a man I hardly know, except he clearly knows something about me.
Like how he makes me wet with the merest of touches, how he calls me baby girl, and how he looks at me with unbridled desire.
“The next time I have you alone,”—his rumble is deep, each word deliberately laced with intent, and, god, does it make heat unfurl low in my belly—“you are going to open that book, sit in front of me, and read that exact scene out loud. And while you read it, I’m going to do every single filthy thing the main character does to her. Do you understand me?”
“Gavin,” I gasp sharply, my thighs clamping tightly together. I’m wet, no, I’m soaked, and we’ve barely done anything.
“Now”— the sound of a zipper sliding down solidifies he’s naked, it’s also followed by a growl that causes my nipples to pebble and goose bumps to appear—“it’s time for you and I to play, baby girl.
I’ve been hard as a fucking rock since seeing you on that stage.
Three damn days of staying this way, using my hand, and not getting an ounce of relief. ”
“Gav…” My pulse hammers, and self-doubts start to swirl around in my thoughts.
“Get ready, baby girl.” My attention is back on the here and now with only two words: baby girl. “Tell me what you’re wearing right now. Describe every piece.”
“Nothing.” I bite my lower lip as the confession slips past my lips. Ever since I dropped my ex-boyfriend, Bryce, I returned to sleeping in the nude. There’s something sensual about it, and when you don’t have a guy in your ear making derogatory remarks to you, it helps tremendously.
“Nothing?” he repeats my response, his voice dropping lower.
“I’m completely bare beneath the sheets,” I whisper. The statement leaves my skin tingling from head to toe.
“Good girl. Now tell me where you are,” Gavin rasps through the line.
“In my bed. On my back.” Maybe it’s from being touch deprived, or maybe it’s Gavin himself. Whatever it is, I’ve never been this daring or felt this free.
“Pull the sheets down. Let the air hit your pretty, golden-bronze skin. Fuck, I should get in my car and drive to your house.” I do as I’m told, dragging the sheets and duvet down, exposing my breasts, my stomach, my pussy, and my legs.
“It’s gone.” I shiver. My nipples harden into tight peaks.
“Good.” On his end, I hear the distinct slide of skin against skin. The heavy sound makes my eyes flutter closed and my thighs rub together, begging for relief.
“You’ve got me ready to blow my load, baby girl.
Cup your breasts. Squeeze them for me and pinch your nipples.
” My hands move on auto pilot with my phone tucked close.
Both of my hands are free, and I do as he says, feeling the heavy roundness of them, my thumbs brushing over the sensitive tips.
A whimper escapes my throat, my back arches off the mattress, and I rock into the pleasure.
“Fuck, that’s it,” Gavin growls into my ear.
“Tell me, what are you doing.” I become bolder.
“Fisting my cock, wishing you were here, between my knees, your hands clutching the tops of my thighs as I guide your mouth up and down the length of my shaft.” I tug on my nipples, wanting that and more.
“Mhmmm,” I moan.
“Listen to you, so sensitive for me, aren’t you, baby girl.
Slide your hand lower until you’re between those lush, beautiful thighs.
I won’t last too much longer, and no fucking way am I coming before you do.
” I trail my fingers down the slope of my stomach, past my belly button, and when the tips of my fingers brush against the small thatch of curls at my center, I’m soaked.
“Tell me, Genevieve. I want to hear how wet you are,” he grunts.
“I’m dripping, Gavin,” I gasp, sliding two fingers into my slick pussy. The sensation is intense, so overwhelmingly good that my feet are planted in the mattress and my hips lift in the air on instinct alone. “Oh, god. It’s so, so good.”
“Fuck, Genevieve,” he huffs. “Touch your clit for me.” My thumb circles it softly as I continue to sink two fingers shallowly inside myself, somehow managing to work my nipple, too.
At the sound of our combined breathing, mixed with my slickness, and Gavin stroking his hard cock over the phone, I’m on sensation overload.
“Gavin,” I cry out. My voice breaks as I’m pulled onto the edges of my orgasm. “Gavin, I’m… I’m… close.”
“Don’t hold back. Don’t you dare hold back,” he growls. Whatever he’s sitting on groans on his end, creaking as his stroke become faster. “Come for me, baby girl. Let me hear you scream my name exactly how I imagined.”
I quicken my movements, my hips rolling against my hand, chasing the high that’s right on the edge of the horizon.
It doesn’t take long. My thumb presses harder on my clit, my fingers pinch my nipple, and I thrust my fingers harder.
And that’s when it happens: the tension snaps, my body trembles, and I’m frantic to keep my orgasm from ending.
“Gavin!” A breathless scream shatters across my room.
“Goddamn, Genevieve.” He lets out a deep, guttural roar as he comes. His pants fill my ear as I slowly float in the headiness of the evening. We both stay silent, connected only by the sound of our combined inhales and exhales that are so choppy I’m surprised air is getting into our lungs.
“Fuck, baby girl.” His voice is completely wrecked with satisfaction. I lie sprawled across the mattress, a slow smile spreading across my face, and when I slide my fingers out of my center, another tremble skates through me.
“Get some sleep. Because tomorrow, you won’t be hiding behind a phone.” It’s not a threat, it’s a promise.
“Good night, Gavin,” I whisper softly into the phone.
“Good night, Genevieve.” The click on the other end is the last thing I hear.
I drop my phone to the nightstand, noticing my book is on the floor, and instead of picking it up to continue reading, I do the exact opposite.
I close my eyes and allow sleep to take me under, dreaming about a bossy billionaire doing dirty things to me.