Page 142 of Pretty Obsessed

He sent me a heart and I sat and stared at it for a long time. I couldn't not go. Not because I was scared. Not because I kept hearing Pat's words over and over in my head. I'd go, end of us or not. I couldn't live in a fantasy forever.

* * *

"Are you there?"

I let out a breath as the airport buzzed around me. "Yes, but the flight was delayed."

"No…"

"Yeah, so my redeye is now a middle of the night, I don't even know when I'll get there." I looked for a spot as far away from people as I could manage—at one of the busiest airports in the country—to give us more privacy.

"Let me see what it says."

I slumped into a seat already mentally worn out and I'd only been at the airport an hour.

"It says for weather. A couple of hours. Which puts you here this evening instead of this afternoon. It's not terrible." The warmth in his voice calmed me.

"Don't you have a show?"

"I do. So I want you naked in my hotel room when I get there.” Lust filled his voice.

“Is that so?” I asked, cock painful just from the demand.

“Yes. I want to finish my show and spend the rest of the night inside you.” I loved how demanding he could get.

“Such a sweet talker.” I was getting heated waiting for my flight.

“You love it.”

“Yes.” I did. But nerves ate at my insides, too, which made it hotter. I loved and hated the way I reacted to him so easily. "Everything you do turns me on."

"So while I'm playing, I want you to take a bath, relax. It's been weeks since we've been together. You need to feel good." His voice purred in my ear, already drawing out the reaction he wanted. "Then when you're done, I want you to air dry. Enjoy the view, maybe put on some porn."

I shifted in my seat. "You want me all worked up, don't you?”

"Aren't you already?" he asked, voice heady.

I quickly snapped a picture of my bulge and sent it over.

"Emory…" The way he moaned my name would leave me wanting until I could touch him.

My phone vibrated and I opened River’s message to find a picture that put any other dick pic I'd ever received to shame. He squeezed his base, giving me a full view of his cock, knees open and inviting, tip glistening.

"Holy shit. I'm going to need a minute, or ten."

"I'm stroking myself thinking about sinking inside you."

I gasped, breathing way too hard for public. I wiped my brow and tried to focus. "You know this is torture, right? I can't go get myself off like you can. I'm in an airport."

"You could use the restroom. Or the bathroom on the plane. But if you do, I want pictures."

"I'm going to send you pictures from the bathroom to torture you like you are me!"

"Promise?" he said, a smirk coming through his tone.

"Only if you promise not to get off until I'm there with you." I don't know where the idea came from, but I wanted to let the arousal simmer under the surface until he could take it all out on me.

"Then you can't either."

---