Page 12 of Finding Haven
“I’m sure, Z. Please let me hear your voice,” I beg. Because apparently that’s something I’m willing to do for this captivating stranger.
“Hello, Sugar,” the gravelly rasp of his voice sends a wave of heat straight to my core, spreading through my body and rising to my cheeks. Despite the layer of makeup I’ve applied to conceal the natural red of my cheeks, I have no doubt that hues of pink are reaching the surface.
Sugar.
I know he’s only calling me that because of my username, but I didn’t think I’d like hearing it as much as I do.
“Hey yourself, Z. Isn’t that better?” I watch as he shifts in his chair, one hand resting on the arm of it, while the other rests on his upper thigh, dangerously close to the thick outline of his erection. The hand on his thigh clenches, his fingertips digging into the fabric of his pants as though he’s trying not to touch himself.
“Is it better to have a conversation with a stunning, nearly naked woman when I don’t have to think about typing?” he chuckles. “Yes, it’s better.”
Oh, this will be fun.
“Now”—I move to sit on my knees, legs parted just enough to tease him as I sit back on my heels—“you can talk to me.” I grasp the lace hem of the bralette and pull it off over my head, dropping it onto the mattress. My nipples harden to stiff peaks without the confines of the warm fabric. “And you can touch yourself,” I say softly, watching as the muscles of his forearms tense against his clenching grip, the veins becoming more prominent.
A deep groan rumbles through the speakers as he slips a hand beneath the waistband of his pants, grasping his hard length and giving it a slow pump.
“That can’t be comfortable,” I tell him, running both of my hands over my breasts before tightening my grasp and pinching my nipples between my thumbs and forefingers. “Seems like your pants are in the way.”
“Fuck,” he growls, his hand pausing at the base of his cock beneath his pants before he pulls his hand out. I swipe my tongue across my bottom lip and tug it between my teeth as I watch him use one hand to simultaneously pull down his pants and briefs, lowering them just enough to free himself.
“I. . .” Wow. Words completely vacate my mind as I watch him slowly stroke his length, his hand twisting at the tip before stroking back down. I’ve never thought of a man’s cock as a beautiful thing before, but holy crap. Z’s cock is a work of art. Long and thick, though not obscenely so, with a well-defined head and a prominent vein running up the underside. His dark pubic hair is trimmed to almost nothing.
His deep chuckle fills the quiet space between us. “I didn’t take you for the speechless type, Sugar.”
That’s because I’m not. I’ve never been speechless. Being nervous only makes me talk more, and I can usually carry on a conversation with just about anyone.Well, I guess there’s a first time for everything.
I clear my throat and tear my gaze away from the screen, looking directly into the camera. Throwing as much confidence as I can muster into my voice, I say, “You wanted a private session, Z. What is it you’d like to see?” I trail my hands slowly down my body, fingertips grazing overmy skin until my hands rest on my thighs, legs still parted just enough for him to get a teasing glimpse of my lace-covered core.
“Is there anything completely off limits?”
The fact that he’s even bothering to ask makes me want to show him absolutely anything and everything.
“I will sh—” Three piercingly loud beeps ring out in succession, cutting me off as my heart jolts in my chest. “Shit,” I say, not bothering to hold back the curse word. Of all the freaking times for this to happen, my body really decided that now,right now, was the perfect time to decide that my blood sugar isn’t within range.
“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” His voice is strained and laced with concern, but I can’t look at the camera right now. If I do, I might just break from sheer embarrassment.
“I, um. . .” I quickly scramble off the bed and out of the camera’s view. “Give me a minute. I have to take care of something. I’ll be right back.” I grab an oversized sleep shirt out of my dresser and throw it on, making my way into the kitchen to grab a juice box from the fridge.
I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry.
This is just my body, my life. There’s nothing I can do about it except face the challenges as they come. This is just another one for me to overcome, no matter how mortifying the situation is.
In the middle of a freaking session!
Talk about public humiliation. The only saving grace is that Z is a stranger, not someone I’ll have to see tomorrow at work or out around town. I just hope he’s understanding and doesn’t hold this against me. I guess, worst-case scenario, I’ll refund the money he spent for a private session. Hopefully, that’ll be enough to keep him from getting upset.
After tossing the empty juice box into the trash, I head back into my bedroom and close the door behind me.Just breathe.I take a deep breath and lift the mask away from my eyes, swiping the pads of my fingers under them to wipe away any smeared makeup, and pull the shirt from my body. I toss it down on top of my dresser and comb my fingers through my hair before climbing back onto the bed, grabbing my phone from where I’d had it propped up to try and capture the perfect angle.
“I’m so sorry about that,” I murmur , crawling onto the bed with my phone in hand. When I finally allow myself to look at the screen, I see that Z has moved. He’s no longer sitting in a chair and instead appears to be lying in bed. His chest is still bare, but his pants are disappointingly back in place. What does it say about me that I appreciate the respect he’s showing me, but I was kind of hoping I’d come back to find him with his fist still wrapped tightly around his cock?
“Do not apologize for needing to take care of yourself. Do you want to tell me what happened?”
The tears I swore I wasn’t going to let fall threaten to rise to the surface. I’m pretty sure if I had been in a session with anyone else, I would not have been given so much grace for the interruption.
“My body just hates me, that’s all.” I shrug a shoulder, suddenly feeling far too exposed. I had stripped off the shirt and came back on camera in just my purple lace panties. I thought that I would return to find him just as he was, hard cock in hand and waiting eagerly for me to put on a show for him. Based on our interactions so far, I should’ve known that Z would be more respectful than that.
“Do you want to cover up, Sugar? I’m not going anywhere,” he says, his tone soft and nurturing. He’s lounging back against a small stack ofpillows, his face still hidden from view as he seemingly holds his phone in one hand while the other is propped beneath his head. He looks comfortable, at ease, and not at all upset by the disaster that just swept in and demolished our session.
