Page 42 of Body Check
“Oh, yeah? Like what, Dove?” I ask, the endearment rolling off my tongue a second after it lands in my brain.
“Dove?” she questions, her voice soft.
I shrug. “I’m not great with nicknames. Just ask Blue. I usually leave that job to the creative types, but I don’t know. My brain just came up with it. It suits you. You’re calm and peaceful.You try to help everybody get along. And it’s kind of like the name your brother calls you, but there’s more to it. If you hate it, though, I can think of some?—”
“It’s perfect,” she says, interrupting me as she looks into the camera and fiddles with the neckline of that damn robe.
“In that case, tell me what’s on your mind tonight, Dove? Why’d you call me?”
A blush tinges her cheeks as she answers me. “I’m curious about something. About athletes. I read a lot of books, and some of them have jocks in them. And not the nonfiction kind of books. I like fiction. Romance, specifically.”
I fucking love the way she rambles. “So what’s your question?” I ask, clueless about where this is going, but grateful to be along for the ride.
“Well,” she drawls, letting the word stretch out. “Athletes travel a lot, right?”
“Yeah,” I say, wondering what the hell she’s getting at because she knows we travel. Hell, I’m on a road trip right now and my season hasn’t officially started yet.
“Right. So, in these books, the hero always calls the love interest when he’s on a road trip. And he’s always alone in his hotel room, and they’re both hot for each other, but they can’t do anything about it because of the distance. Or can they? That’s when one of them suggests that they…you know…”
I do know, but this is a fun game, so I’ll keep her guessing. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. What do they suggest?”
She rolls her eyes at me. “You know exactly what I’m referring to.”
“I don’t. Maybe you should grab one of those books and read the scene to me. That way I can visualize it.”
“Are you really going to make me say it?” she asks, huffing out a breath and causing her robe to gape a little.
Hmmm…if I keep annoying her, maybe she’ll sigh so hard that her breasts will tumble out. It’s not a bad plan. Bridgette’s so damn confident and so fucking sexy. But when it comes to actual sex, there’s a shyness there I can’t quite figure out. If I had to guess, her past partners have been selfish, incompetent idiots, so she feels like she’s a little behind the curve.
Lucky for her, I’m happy to give her a crash course.
“Damn right I’m going to make you say it, Dove,” I tell her, adjusting my aching cock. “You want to know something? All you’ve got to do is ask. Use your filthy words.”
“Do you touch yourself and think of me?” she asks, the words tumbling from her lips before she can hold them back. “Do you want me to do the same? Because I was lying here, missing you, and thinking about how good it felt the other day when you?—”
She pauses, breathing hard.Fuck me.Her tits are practically begging to be set free.
“When I what?” I prompt, shifting my phone so she can see my hand as I cup my dick through the thin material of my boxer briefs. I need her to know what she does to me, to see it. Dragging my thumb along the hard outline of my length, I hiss out a breath. “Because I’m touching myself right now, Dove, and it feels pretty fucking good. What were we doing that got you so hot? Tell me,” I urge, hooking my thumb into my waistband.
Bridgette’s green eyes are fixed on the screen. She’s watching my every move like she can’t tear her gaze away. Fine by me. I’m more than happy to give her something to watch.
I tug on the elastic just enough to give her a glimpse of what she does to me. The head of my cock is right fucking there, leaking for her like it’s got a mind of its own. I smooth my thumb over the glistening tip, causing a full body shiver. I can’t help it. The spell Bridgette cast on me is permanent and powerful. She makes me want things no one else ever has. And while I like totease her, I’m not good at playing coy. She turns me the fuck on, and I want her to know it.
Her gasp feels like a victory. Her lips are parted, her cheeks are flushed, and that flimsy little robe is losing the battle.
“I was standing at the edge of the bed and you were behind me,” she says, detailing the scene that played out in her dorm room two days ago. “You had your hands on my hips and then you let them wander all over my body.”
“Show me,” I grind out, and when she reaches for the tie on her robe, I swear to Christ, I nearly start cheering. She pulls on the silk, and it flutters open, exposing her beautiful, creamy skin. She lets her hand roam from the valley between her breasts down over her belly and finally at the juncture of her thighs.
“Then what?” I ask, freeing my cock and wrapping my left hand around the base.
“Then you pressed your hand low on my back and told me to bend forward.”
“Yes, I fucking did.Goddamn. And you stretched your body out on that mattress for me, didn’t you? Pushed your ass in the air for me so I could grab hold of your hips and line my cock up to slide it into your pussy.”
“Oh, god,” she moans, fingering herself. I’m transfixed. I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to. Her sex is practically dripping for me, and it makes me wonder just how long it took her to work up the nerve to call me and hint at her need for this.
“Holy fucking hell, Dove,” I curse. “Look at you, working yourself for me, showing me just the way you fucking like it. God, that’s hot. Tell me I get to watch those thighs tremble while you show me just how damn good you’re making yourself feel.”
