The Guy on the Left (The Underdogs, #2)(79)

“Oh, well then, carry on.”

“Give me a second.”

I drop the phone and lock my door while running my fingers through my hair and slipping off my T-shirt. Getting comfortable in bed, I fan my hair out on my pillow and lift my phone.

“Are you naked now?”

“Panties.”

“Which ones? Tell me the ones with the black lace and purple bows.”

I slip the phone beneath the sheets and hear his groan. “Hell, yes.” I pull the phone back up, face hot with embarrassment.

“So, what are you kissing first?” I ask.

“Sucking, I’m sucking on your lips.”

“Okay,” I giggle. “Troy, this is—” I shake my head. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

He rakes his bottom lip with his teeth, a habit I now love, his voice coated in heat. “Trust me?”

“Yes.”

“I miss you,” his voice is gravelly, and instantly he’s with me in the room. I can practically feel his whisper in my ear.

“I miss you too.”

“You’re so beautiful, from those lips to that neck to those nipples. Show me what I’m missing, show me how you touch yourself,” he murmurs.

“Tell me what to touch,” I whisper back, hypnotized by the heat of his voice and the neon blue eyes gazing back at me.

“Start from the top.”

I lift the phone, angling it down and uncover one of my nipples, circling it with my finger. His eyes close briefly before he opens them, setting me on fire. He’s turned on, and there’s nothing funny about it.

“You’re so perfect, lick those lips for me,” he whispers, and I can see his hand descending as I dart my tongue along my lips.

“Let me see.” The phone drifts down his ripped torso, and I nearly gasp when he pulls out his rock-hard cock. My mouth waters at the sight of it.

This is really happening.

I imagine what I’d do if he were in front of me.

“Brush your thumb over the tip,” I order, and he does before giving his cock a long pull.

“Good, but I would have licked that pre-cum off first.”

His eyes close as he slowly strokes his length. “Jesus, Clarissa.”

“I’m swirling my tongue over the head, waiting for you to buck your hips so I can take you to the back of my throat.”

“Fuck, yes,” he’s working his cock now in full view as I slip my hand in my panties.

“Uh uh,” he says, watching me intently. “Let me see.”

“I’ll give you a partial view,” I say, shying away from his demands.

“No. Fucking. Way. Let me see that beautiful pussy,” he’s working his hand faster, and I use my free hand to slip my panties off.

“Naked?” He drawls out, slowing his pace.

“Yes.”

“Show me.”

I lower my phone and spread for him using my middle finger to rub my swollen clit. I tilt the camera, so I’m able to get a partial view and am surprised at how turned on I am by the sight of us both touching ourselves so intimately.

“I need you here,” I whimper, “I don’t want to do this without you.”

“I’m there,” he says, pumping his cock, his breaths coming fast.

“I’m with you,” I bow a little off my mattress, the sight of him enough to have me working my fingers, massaging my clit in circles. I’m soaked, and I can feel the onslaught coming.

“Look at me,” he orders as his body tenses, his strong jaw locking as his cock spills over, and he pumps his orgasm out. It’s so fucking filthy on the screen, and all it does is turn me on more.

“Show me,” he groans as I work my fingers flicking my clit, over and over until finally I tip and spill, gasping out his name more frustrated than sated. I need him too much. I want him too much. I miss him too fucking much for not having had him long enough.

“I need more,” I say softly.

“I’ll give you everything,” he promises, his voice sincere, “everything.”

“Hurry up and come home.”

“Soon.”





Clarissa



“Golding wrote The Lord of the Flies, penning one of the best representations of the end of innocence.”

“Funny, I witnessed the end of innocence in my back seat last week.”

The whole class bursts into laughter. Inwardly I cringe before turning to face him, the one cocky student who thinks it’s fun to goad me until I lose my cool. Every classroom has one.

I narrow my eyes at the little bastard who’s wearing a satisfied grin. “How fantastic for you, Mr. Timmons. I’m sure she too was enlightened as well on how experience really does make the man.”

“Trust me, I’m good,” he snickers, and every student in the room looks on at me with expectation. I refuse to give in.

“I’ll just have to take your word for it.”

“No need,” he kicks back in his seat, lifting his chin in suggestion. “I’m free tonight.”

“Watch it,” I snap in warning, which does nothing to wipe the smile off his face. Gathering myself together, I glance at the clock. Four more minutes until I’m free of this adolescent prison. “So, what do you think Golding’s ideals were regarding government?”