Indigo Nights (Nights #3)(34)

“Yes.” Her voice cracked.

My balls tightened at the memory of her pressed up against the glass. I ran my fingertips up my cock.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

Should I tell her? “I’m looking at you on YouTube.” I seemed to lose my filter with her. I didn’t want to hold back.

“You are? Do you like it?” I could hear her smile in her voice.

“I’m about three minutes in and hard as steel.”

She inhaled. “Are you dressed? Are you . . .?”

She wanted to ask me whether I was masturbating and I wanted to tell her, but I understood her hesitation; it was an intimate question and it would be crossing a line. Hell, just calling her for no reason other than because I wanted to hear her voice was crossing a line.

“I’m dressed, but I wish you were here and we were naked.”

“Tell me what you’d do to me if I was there.”

I groaned and undid my pants. There was no way my dick was going to tolerate being ignored for a moment longer. “I’d strip you naked—”

“And you’d keep all your clothes on,” she finished my thought for me. “I like that.”

We liked the same things.

I circled my cock with my fingers and pushed down to my base, my dick jutting out in front of me. I squeezed and exhaled as I released. “Yeah.”

“I like your teeth, too.” She spoke as if she was half asleep, though I heard the rustle of sheets. “When you put them against my skin.”

I dragged my fist up the length of my cock, straining to speak. “I like your skin. It’s so smooth and yielding. I like to watch my fingers press into it.”

Her breaths came heavier. Was she . . .? I couldn’t stop myself from groaning. “I like that you’re always so wet. Tell me how that sweet * feels.” I pumped my hand up and down my length.

She moaned. “It’s so ready for you.”

Dew beaded on the end of my dick. I wished she were here, astride me, hovering above me, ready to f*ck me. I closed my eyes and let my mind take over.

“And I like how you fill me so deep that it blocks out all my thoughts. I have to . . . let go.” Her words were jagged, verging on desperate.

My fist gathered pace. “I like your tits. They’re so full and—” I couldn’t finish my thought without coming and I didn’t want to get there first.

“Are you close?” Her voice rose at the end of her question. “I’m so close. Just thinking about you makes me so . . .”

“If I can’t feel you, let me hear you.” I was seconds away from falling over the edge.

Her breaths turned into moans, which turned into her calling my name over and over. If I thought it was possible to take a flight to London tonight, I’d have raced to the airport right then. The sight of her coming was a precious thing, and I didn’t want to be the chump that passed up any opportunity to revel in it.

She gasped, then fell silent. I was too far gone to hold back any more. “Beth, my sweet Beth,” I called as my body went rigid, my orgasm claiming me.

My hand and shirt were covered in come, but I couldn’t move. It was as if she’d stolen my energy. “Jesus, Beth.”

She gave a small laugh at the other end of the phone. “Did we really just do that? We hardly know each other.”

Even though I’d seen her less than a handful of times, we knew each other, better than the time we’d spent together would suggest. We had something—a connection.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had phone sex. Probably with Alicia when I was travelling to Missouri. “I think we’re getting to know each other pretty well.”

“Maybe,” she replied. “I’m so tired.”

“Sleep, beautiful baker. I’ll see you very soon.”

We might not have shared many words, but it was as if something on a deeper level pulled us together and joined us.

I only hoped she felt it, too.





Dylan

My heart raced as I entered the lounge at Heathrow. Desperate to see Beth, I’d checked in a little early.

After phone sex on Tuesday, I’d arranged a last minute trip to London, flying out on Wednesday and back to Chicago on Thursday morning—on the same flight as Beth. The deal with Redux was dragging. Raf had been due to fly out next week, but I offered to go earlier. I kept telling myself it made good business sense.

I wanted to surprise her in the lounge. It would be like the first time we met. Maybe I’d have her in the showers again, like the second time we saw each other.

I scanned the lounge, looking for her unmistakable red lips but didn’t see her. I found a seat toward the edge of the lounge, hidden behind a magazine stand that still gave me a view of the whole room so I could see when she arrived.

I went over to the wet bar, got myself a soda water and returned to my table, pulling out my phone and my laptop. I hadn’t spoken to her since Tuesday night, but we’d had a few texts where she told me what she was baking and I told her that I wanted her naked. She would have said if she’d changed her plans, I was certain of it.

I started to scroll through my emails when I thought I heard her laugh. I glanced up, sporting a grin of my own. I saw the back of her head as she walked through the door, talking to someone on the way in. She looked beautiful, carefree and relaxed in the way that she was in the YouTube clips I’d seen. My eyes slid to her tiny waist, then back up, urging her to turn around and see me. She paused for a second, then threw her hands up in the air and laughed. My gaze followed hers and saw she was talking to a fellow traveler. They continued to chat animatedly as they approached the wet bar. Was he a colleague? A friend? My jaw clenched. I didn’t like her spending time with men who weren’t me.