Page 42 of Cocky Player

“What can I say, angel.Life is shit sometimes, shittier more times for some people than others.”

Now that, I related to in a vastly different way.

“I’m sorry you’ve had to live through that.Really I am, Connor.You should be proud of yourself though, for making it despite the odds, and I imagine your grandfather watches from wherever he is and is proud of you, too.”

There was a long silence.“Maybe.”

I was certain of it, but I wouldn’t push.He’d shared so much already.

There was a rustling through the phone and I imagined him stretching on his bed, perhaps propping himself up on his pillows like I was sitting, biceps exposed, hand behind his head, giving anyone who walked into his room a deliciously incredible view of that body he’d have on display.Shorts only, most likely.Perhaps hard, thinking of me.

I muffled a moan but not quite fast enough.

“That’s quite the sound you made, angel.Care to share?”

I set down my glass of wine.“Um.No, no, I would not.”Oh God.There was a heat at the apex of my thighs and I pressed them together.I should have been revolted, getting turned on after the saddening history Connor shared with me.And that wasn’t what had done it.

“Angel,” he murmured, and that voice with that tone sent my pulse skyrocketing.“Are you wet for me?”

“I was thinking of what you were wearing and if you were in bed.”

He huffed a laugh.Perhaps thankful for the change of subject.This was where we excelled and sharing those things couldn’t have been easy for him.

“I am in bed.If you were here with me, what would you do to me?”

Phone sex.It should have felt awkward, but I searched my mind for it and came up empty.

“I…”

“Don’t get shy on me now,” he teased and I closed my eyes, imagining my words making him hard.His hand moving down his stomach to his boxers, kicking them off, gripping himself.

“I would climb on top of you, taste you…your muscles on your stomach, your chest, your arms.”

“My arms?”

I shrugged even though he couldn’t see me.“They’re sexy.”He laughed softly and then groaned.“Are you touching yourself?”

“I am,” he replied.“Thinking of you naked, climbing on top of me and straddling me.Pressing your cunt to my cock, sliding over me and getting me wet as I sucked your nipples into my mouth.Hard.”

“Oh God.”My hand moved on its own fruition.Sliding beneath the thin cotton pajama shorts I’d thrown on earlier until I was at my sex.And goodness, I wasdrenched.

“Are you wet?Wet for me, angel?”

“Soaking,” I gasped as I slid my fingers over my clit.My hips bucked and I gasped again.“Please, keep talking.You’re so much better at this than me.”

He did.And it didn’t take long at all before words were no longer necessary and the only thing coming through the phone lines were our pants and groans, our whispers and then my cries and his deep rumble as we came together.

I was still breathing heavily when Connor said, “You still haven’t told me about dinner with your family.”

“Another time, maybe.You’ve worn me out.”

He laughed, sexily and sleepy, like he was after I’d been on my knees for him.Cuddly.I imagined sliding into his arms on his bed and letting him hold me close like he’d done on the couch.

“I should get to bed, Connor.”

“Sleep well, angel.”

I ended up having incredible dreams that night, but they were hardly angelic.

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