Collided: Dirty Air (Book 2)(40)

“Stop thinking. Close your eyes and fucking feel.” His clipped voice fills me with excitement. “Touch yourself while your other hand palms your tit. Imagine my calloused hands running against your skin, lingering where I want to kiss you. Fuck, I wish I could see you. Wish I could taste you.”

My hand follows his demand, running across my center before dipping inside. I fear to talk, of ending the spell, of every freaking thing involving Liam.

“Tell me what you were thinking about before, what gets Little Miss Perfect off.”

I swallow back my fear. “You.” One word, heavy with meaning and implication, of consequences and obstacles I can’t prepare myself for. The phone feels like a barrier, safely hiding me from facing my feelings head-on. Of facing him head-on.

He grunts into the phone. “Push two fingers inside of you. Feel how fucking wet you are for me. Because shit, I’m hard from the thought of you pleasuring yourself to the sound of my voice.”

My body buzzes at his order. “I was thinking of you in your room, a bead of pre-cum dripping from your tip as you fist your dick, the idea of me on replay in your head as you come.” Where my brazenness comes from, I have no freaking clue. I guess phone sex makes me courageous.

“You’re on a fucking loop in my head. The same shit replays because I can’t get you out no matter how hard I try, no matter how many times you call me a friend. I want to fuck friendship out of you, erasing the word from your memory. I think of you begging me to fuck you, with my cock filling you up and making you feel so damn good. You’ll scream my name and scratch at my back. I’ll make it my mission to have you chanting my name like a goddamn prayer while I explode inside of you.”

A tingle starts in my toes and carries up my spine, nerves firing off as I pump two fingers into myself, curling enough to stroke my G-spot. Liam’s words rush through my brain and obliterate any doubt. He paints a picture of us that feeds my desire, his dick pumping into me as he pulls my orgasm from me.

“I always want you like a needy asshole. I’m in so fucking deep that you don’t even need to say anything to turn me on. Your heavy breathing tells me enough, the idea of you finger-fucking yourself to me making my balls clench and my dick ache. I want in. I want you to drop your defenses and let me take over. Allow me to show you how good it can be with us.” He half snarls the last sentence.

“Yes.” I moan as my orgasm hits me, my thumb pressing against my clit as my fingers continue to tease me.

“I’m right there with you.” Liam’s groan rumbles through the speakerphone.

We both come, my chest heaving as Liam moans into the phone. Neither one of us says anything as we gather ourselves.

Uncertainty creeps in the dark and replaces my orgasm-induced high. Realization dawns on me that I came to the sound of Liam’s naughty words and of him jacking off.

Oh God. What did I do?

“Stop doubting everything,” he growls into the phone.

“I have to go. Look at the time!”

“Don’t—”

I click the red button. It’s fitting how the red circle reminds me of a self-destruct button because that’s what the fuck I did to my perfectly laid plan.





Maya officially made it on my shit list. Well, at least temporarily because I tend to be emotionally weak when it comes to her.

We lie down on my hotel bed, watching TV while catching up on all the gossip.

She looks at me with innocent eyes and a sweet smile despite her plans on abandoning me. And damn her for looking good while she lets me down, telling me she can’t come to Canada.

Noah ruins everything with his smolders and sexy nothings because let’s be real, there is nothing sweet about that man. I would know since he comes around every Christmas because my dad has a thing for people with shitty parents.

Yesterday, Noah kissed Maya. I can’t allow these things to happen anymore, especially since she refuses to fly to North America for the Canadian Grand Prix.

“You have to come. Think of the maple syrup. The Canadian boys. Niagara Falls.” I smack the back of my hand into my other palm for emphasis.

She lets out a laugh. “Niagara Falls is hours away. We would never make it via car.”

“Are you really not coming because of Noah? I think my dad has an extra chastity belt I can lend you. I wouldn’t put it past him to have packed one in his carry-on luggage.”

“I’m sorry. I really wish I could.”

“Don’t lie. It’s unbecoming of you.” I still love her.

“Your word choice is something else.” She chuckles. “Sometimes, I wonder if you’re some posh princess hiding out in F1.”

“Please, if I was married to Prince Harry, I wouldn’t be hanging out on this bed with you. I’d be popping out little ginger babies that rival the queen.”

Her laugh fills the hotel room. “Truly, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.”

“Fine. I forgive you. But you’re coming to the next race. Think of your vlog and the fans. You can’t leave them hanging like that.”

She shakes her head against the crisp sheets. “You’ll have Liam. Don’t act like that’s not enough.”

“It’s more than I can handle,” I groan while avoiding her eyes.

“If my friends looked at me like he looks at you, I think I would have ditched the friend zone a long time ago. Take me to the end zone. Multiple times, por favor.”