Settling the Score (The Summer Games #1)(41)

“Higher,” he whispered into my ear. It sounded like he was right there, controlling my hand and dragging it higher for me. I could hear the pleasure in his voice as he told me to keep going, to let my fingers touch the groove of my hip. I squeezed my eyes tighter as a flush ran across my chest and neck. I was hot, burning up. I yanked the towel off and threw it aside, laying back on the bed, naked and alone.

“Open your legs.”

“Freddie,” I protested.

“Andie, slide your legs apart,” he demanded, a little less patient this time.

My thighs slid across the soft sheets, just a few inches at first, not so far that I couldn’t squeeze them closed if I wanted the call to end.

“I can hear you moving on those sheets and I wish I could be there to see how far you’ve spread your legs for me.”

I opened my eyes to see what he would see. My entire body was flush, partly from the scalding shower and partly from Freddie’s dark words. My hand rested on my flat stomach, rising and falling with my breath.

“Touch yourself, Andie. Drag your finger there and pretend it’s me.”

I pushed my hand lower, tentatively.

“Lower,” he insisted.

I started turning slow circles, nothing much at first. I was too embarrassed to admit how turned on I was just from listening to him.

“I’d ask if you’re wet, but I know that you are.”

My heart fluttered.

“Feel yourself. Feel how tight you are.”

My breaths were coming quicker. “Freddie.”

“Andie…” He was begging.

My legs were trembling by that point, shaking with need.

“Spread your legs as wide as they’ll go and slide your finger in and out. Slowly, Andie. Don’t speed up until I tell you to.”

I was seconds away from losing my mind.

“Do you like the way your fingers feel?”

I swallowed back a moan as my back arched off the bed.

“Answer me.”

“Yes,” I breathed. “But I need you here.”

“I know. I can hear your breath picking up. You need a release, don’t you? You’re so f*cking close.”

My finger slid in and out, and I squeezed my eyes closed, listening to the sounds of my heady breaths.

“Tell me…what would you do to me if you were here?”

I could almost see his smirk as his dark voice filled the silence. “I'd pull you down to the very edge of the bed and make you watch as I knelt between your thighs. Maybe you’d be shy, but I’d grip your legs and keep them apart so that I could see all of you.”

His explicit promises consumed me.

“You’d watch me lick you. God, you'd taste so f*cking good as you rode my mouth.”

“Freddie…I…”

“I'd make you come like that, on your elbows with my mouth on your *. You'd beg me to end your agony, beg me to give you the release you so desperately need.”

His words were dark embers, falling through the phone and setting fire to every single nerve inside my body.

“I want to hear you, Andie.” His voice was strained, just as hot and breathy as mine was. “Give me that much…”

As if my body was under his command, I could feel my world starting to unravel. My toes curled, my eyes squeezed tighter, and I let the waves of pleasure roll through my body. The phone slipped from my hand as I moved to cover my mouth. I tried to stifle my moans, but it wasn’t good enough. I’d come with Freddie on the phone and a moment later, a knock sounded on the door, just as I’d started to gather my senses.

“Andie, are you okay?” Kinsley shouted. “It sounds like you’re strangling a cat in there.”

I threw my phone across the room like it was on fire. It collided with my suitcase and clattered to the floor. I yanked my towel around my body and bolted off the bed.

“Yup!” I shouted back, praying she wouldn’t open the door. “It’s fine, I just…stubbed my toe.”

“Do you need ice or something? Honestly, I thought you were sacrificing a goat or something.”

“No, everything is fine!”

My phone buzzed on the floor across the room, but I didn’t check it until I heard Kinsley walk back into the living room. It was a text from Freddie, short and foreboding.



Freddie: That was good, but not enough. Next time, I’ll feel you come.





CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE


Andie




I HAD A suspicion that my trainer Lisa was secretly an intern for the devil. She was tiny and adorable, but she made me cry like I was in the sixth circle of hell. I’d begun training with her my first day in Rio, and I’d figured we’d eventually work up to one of those great relationships where instead of rehabbing my wrist all day, we’d just sit around gossiping about celebrities and making fun of people.

“You have two more sets of mobility exercises, and we haven’t even gotten to the strengthening segment,” Lisa said, interrupting my short break in the training center.

Fuckkkk youuuuuuuuu.

“This is torture, Lisa.”

She arched a perfectly sculpted brow. “Do you want to keep playing here or do you want to go home? The choice is yours.”