“Yes.”
“Did your pu**y get wet?”
Oh. My. God. She shuddered out a breath. “Yes.”
“Are you in bed right now?”
“Yes.”
“What are you wearing?”
She looked down at her br**sts. The sheet had slipped down to her waist, revealing tight, hard ni**les.
“I still have all my clothes on.”
He laughed, the rumbling sound touching her nerve endings. “Liar. What are you wearing?”
His demand, spoken softly, made her want to tell him. “Nothing.”
“You’re naked.”
“Yes.” She could barely get the word out. It was like she was standing in the same room with him, showing him.
She heard a rustling on the other end, wished she knew what he was doing.
“The thought of you naked makes my dick hard, Ava.”
Now it was her turn to rustle. She reached up and slid her thumb over her nipple, then squeezed her eyes shut as the sensation shot between her legs.
“Does knowing that make you wet?”
“Yes.”
“Does it make you want to touch your pu**y?”
She didn’t want to answer, didn’t want to have this conversation with him. And she didn’t want to hang up.
“Answer me.”
“Yes, it does.”
He inhaled and blew it out. A sound of frustration, of need. She’d never heard anything more erotic in her entire life.
“Do it. Touch yourself for me.”
“Oh, God, Rick. Please.”
“Yes. Touch your pu**y. You know you want to.”
She did want to. She’d wanted to for hours. And somehow, doing it because he’d asked her to was like Rick putting his hand there. She moved her hand under the covers and cupped her sex, couldn’t hold back the gasp as sensation shot through her.
“Feel good?”
“Yes.” But she needed more. Much more. “Rick.”
“Yeah.”
“What are you doing?”
“Stroking my dick.”
She squeezed her thighs together, images pummeling her. How was he doing it? Was he naked, too, or were his jeans unzipped, just his c**k visible? She wished she could be in the room with him, watching him touch himself.
“Do you like knowing I’m stroking myself while I talk to you?”
She swallowed. Her throat had gone dry. “Yes. Oh, yes.”
“Rub your pu**y for me, Ava.”
She rocked her hand against her pu**y. Her clit trembled, the tight bud hard and aching for her touch. She split her fingers, capturing her clit between them, feeling it swell and burst with pleasure. It was so, so good. She couldn’t hold back her whimper of pleasure.
“I love hearing the sounds you make. Does it feel good?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me what you’re doing.”
“Resting my palm over my pu**y. Teasing my clit with my fingers. Rick, I’m shaking all over. I’ve . . . never done this before.”
“Good. Do it for me, then. I like listening to you. I like hearing your deep breathing.”
She shuddered out a sigh. This was wicked. She pressed the heel of her palm against her clit, and let her fingers dive down along her pu**y lips. She was wet, hot, anticipating being filled. Sadly, all she had were her fingers, but she tucked two inside. And moaned.
“Christ” was Rick’s reply. “What are you doing?”
Now she felt the power of what she was doing, and how it affected him. She pulled her fingers out and pushed them in again, her hips rising off the bed to meet them. “Fucking myself with my fingers.”
“Shit. Yeah.”
Now Rick was the one out of breath and making noises, and she had to admit it drove her crazy. Because she couldn’t see, she could only hear. And imagine. It drove her pleasure higher, faster, made her so close to coming she had to back off.
Not yet.
She was panting now, listening to the sounds Rick made, straining to hear everything. She could swear she heard his hand moving along his cock, the rhythmic stroking in tune to his hard, fast breaths in the receiver of the phone. She’d never seen a guy jack off before. Now she wanted to more than anything.
“Ava.”
“Yes.”
“I want you to come for me.”
“Yes.” Faster now, she moved her hand, her fingers, digging the heel of her palm against her clit and driving her fingers deeper inside her pu**y.
“Tell me what you’re doing.”
“Spreading my legs. Fucking myself. Making myself come. Oh, God, Rick, I’m coming now.”
“Fuck. Yes. Come on.” He groaned, loud, a deep, guttural sound and she knew he was coming, too.
Her orgasm splintered her, wild and filled with a crazy madness brought about by this wicked thing they’d done together. She went off like a rocket, bursting all over. She bucked against her hand with the waves of her climax, yelling at Rick through the phone and not caring at all who she woke up. Not when she was coming like this and it was oh, so good.
Spent, she dropped her hips to the bed and panted, listened to Rick do the same thing, and closed her eyes, wondering whether she should be laughing or utterly mortified.
“Damn, honey. You are good.”
She smiled, too satiated to be mortified at what she had just done. “So are you.”
“Now get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Her smile died. She suddenly felt unsure.
“’Night, Ava.”
“Good night, Rick.”
He clicked off and she hung up the phone, went into the bathroom to clean up. She stared at herself in the mirror and shook her head at the sight she presented. Naked, her ni**les puckered, her br**sts still flushed with the aftereffects of her orgasm. Her hair was in wild disarray, her eyes had this ...what? A passionate look, she supposed.
She didn’t look at all like herself.
But this week was supposed to be about doing something different.
What she’d just done with Rick had sure as hell been different, hadn’t it?
She turned off the bathroom light and climbed back into bed, hoping this time she could sleep without thinking too much.
And hoping she could face Rick tomorrow without dissolving into a puddle of embarrassment.
FIVE
Rick had only slept a few hours. After he’d hung up the phone with Ava last night, it had taken all his willpower not to throw on his jeans, walk down the hall, bang on her door, and climb into bed with her.