My little snow queen waited until the last possible second to pick up, making me smile at the game she was playing.
"Hi," she said, her voice a bit breathless, kind of like that night when I'd been deep inside her with her heels around my ass.
Glancing at my bedroom door, I made sure it was closed, again, so that little shit wouldn't come in here during the highlight of my day.
"How are you, baby?" I asked.
"Pretty good. How about you? How was your day?"
What was this? Last night when we'd spoken, there'd been some venom in her voice, a bite that I hadn't expected. And now she was all sweetness, asking me about my day?
"My day was... fine, I guess. Nothing exciting. Same old same old."
"So what exactly do you do?"
A wave of disappointment washed over me that she hadn't researched me like I'd hoped. Because that meant she just didn't give a fuck about me. "You didn't look me up?"
"Oh, um, I did."
I smiled.Good. "And what did you find?"
"I, uh, found your page on Hawthorne Properties' website."
"Yeah? And what else?"
"That's pretty much it." Her voice went up a notch.
"You're damn cute when you lie." Even though I couldn't see her, I knew it was true. Hopefully, she'd stalked the shit out of me and could see that I was a decent guy. "What are you wearing right now?"
She snort-laughed, and it was the cutest thing I'd ever heard. "You're joking, right?"
"I'm dead serious. What are you wearing? I've only ever seen you in that dress, and I'm just curious. I want to know everything about you."
"Well, Mr. Phantom, I'm not willing to share everything about me," she said in a sexy purr.
And just like that, I was getting hard. This woman had a lot of layers, I was beginning to realize, just like an onion, and I almost opened my mouth to say that... then stopped. Because who wanted to be compared to an onion? Exactly no one.
"So whatcanyou tell me?" I prodded. "Surely, you can tell me what you have on, and if you're at home."
"Okay. That I can do. I'm at home. And I'm wearing leggings and a hoodie."
That sounded sexy as hell to me. "No bra?"
"No bra."
Bra. Just the mere word conjured up the image of her gorgeous fucking breasts, a picture that was permanently etched in my brain.
"What about you?" she asked. "What are you wearing?"
"Gray sweats." I looked down at the imprint of my growing dick.
"Oh." I could have sworn I heard her swallow. "Shirt?"
"Knicks shirt."
"Like a t-shirt or a jersey?"
"T-shirt."
