Page 52 of Gone for You

“Only a few more days and you’ll be able to sit on more than just my comfortable furniture,” he teases, waggling his eyebrows.

My skin heats and I moan, “Don’t talk like that. Not until we can do something about it.”

“Oh, we can do something about it,” he says and I watch as his hand disappears beyond the view of the camera. We’ve had so much Facetime sex we’re practically experts at it now. I watch as his bicep flexes and I know he’s pumping himself up and down.

I lean up, trying to see even though that’s ridiculous because it’s not my position that needs to change in order for me to get a better look at the goods.

Without me having to say anything, he shifts the angle of his phone, propping it up against a book on the coffee table so it’s aimed perfectly. “I love watching you do that,” I say breathlessly. Why is it so freaking hot to watch him masturbate? It’s not something I got off on with anyone before him, but there’s something about it with him. The facial expressions he makes, the way his ab muscles tighten and how he bites the corner of his bottom lip. There’s definitely something to the whole distance makes the heart grow fonder thing.

“Not as much as I love watching you. Let me see you,” he commands, tipping his chin up in my direction. I make quick work of removing my clothes. He laughs at my eagerness but I’m too excited to think about being embarrassed. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous. I can’t get enough of you, Liv.” His eyes focus on my fingers pinching my nipple and he shakes his head.

“Me either,” I pant, sliding a hand lower. “What are you doing to me?”

“Same as you’re doing to me. Feel it, Liv. Don’t fight this.”

I want to yell that I’m not trying to but the feel of my fingers pinching and rubbing are about to send me over the edge. Especially as I watch him throw his head back and close his eyes. His grip tightens and I know he’s close when he says, “Are you with me, Liv? You close?”

“Yes,” I pant. “You?”

“I’m there. Come with me.”

The only sound coming through our phones is of our heavy breathing and whimpers. Soon he lets out a guttural moan and it tips me right over the edge, my climax making me see stars. I watch in fascination as the evidence of his orgasm spurts onto his stomach.

“Holy shit,” he pants, reaching for a couple tissues out of the box on the end table.

I stand up and walk naked to my kitchen to wash my hands. “It looks like you were prepared,” I remark, fill a small bowl with my favorite sweet and spicy trail mix and refill my glass of water.

“A guy can hope,” he teases, cleaning up his stomach.

Rather than moving back to my couch, I lean over and pick up my discarded clothes and move to my bedroom to get ready for bed. It’s a routine we’ve grown accustomed to. Talking to each other late into the night if he’s not at work, moving about our homes and chatting.

“Are you eating that same mix again?”

“I am so addicted to it. It’s ridiculous.”

“I get it. It’s pretty good stuff.”

I set my bowl down on my night stand and toss my dirty clothes into the hamper. “You tried it?” I don’t know why that brings me a little twinge of giddiness but it does.

He nods, moving around in his bathroom now. He puts toothpaste on his toothbrush and runs it under the water. “I’ve watched you munch on that stuff practically every night. I had to see for myself.”

He starts brushing his teeth and I pick out some pajamas out of my drawer, sliding them on. He runs his brush under the water, tapping it on the sink before putting it in its holder. “By the way, don’t worry about packing pajamas,” he tells me.

I grin, totally on board with his plans. I nestle under my covers, planning to eat my snack while reading a bit before going to sleep. “So bossy.”

“You like it.”

I do. I really do. Because his form of bossiness isn’t anything like Jared’s was. With Jared, it was all about him trying to control me. He wanted me to cater to his every whim and I wasn’t about to let him lead me around. Ethan is being playful and lively. If I told him I wasn’t comfortable with sleeping naked he’d probably shrug his shoulders, sayokay, no big dealand move on. Because he isn’t on some power trip where he thinks I’m beneath him.

I drop a handful of mix into my mouth and crunch loudly. He laughs at my lack of class and slides into his own bed.

Panning the camera on his phone over to the other side of his bed, he pats the pillow. “It’s so lonely without you.”

“Just the pillow?”

“I mean, the rest of the bed, too.”

Munch. Munch. Munch. “But will the bed care if I bring snacks?”

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