Every time he dropped the F bomb in that deep voice, it made me shiver. And this time, that shiver made my toes curl. "Mmm. Okay, I'll show you if you show me."
I loved hearing that intake of breath on his end of the line, but he recovered quickly. "You want to watch me stroke my cock and see how hard I am for you? Is
that what you're saying, Becca?"
I let the blanket slip playfully from my shoulders. "Or you could just come over and let me stroke it for you…"
"You're one of those impatient girls who opens her presents on Christmas Eve instead of Christmas Day, aren't you?"
"Busted. I'm not big on delayed gratification."
"Do you always come as easy as you did today?"
Should I be embarrassed about that? Maybe I should play it cool and act like it was no big deal. But, in truth, he'd taken me from zero to sixty in no time flat, so I had to throw him a bone. "Not quite that easy, but I'm pretty responsive."
"Great, then let's up the stakes," he suggested, peeling his undershirt off to show off a finely sculpted chest. And I gulped. God, he was built. When did that happen? The military had been seriously good for him. "I touch," he suggested. "And you touch. But neither of us gets off until I say so."
"Why do you get to say so?" I asked, but truthfully, I liked this new, slightly bossy Ben. The military had been good for more than his looks. "Nevermind. It's fine. It's a deal," I said, stripping down to my tank top and panties with another little shiver that had nothing to do with the cold.
"Niiiice," Ben said into the phone as he watched me undress. "I could stare at you for hours. Wanna show me that tramp stamp you mentioned?"
I turned with a saucy grin, showing him the pretty tattoo at the base of my spine. And was rewarded with a groan. "I want to kiss you right there…you were so slippery and smooth under my fingers today. Are you still wet? Touch yourself and tell me."
One hand trailed down my body, and slipped into the soft warmth of my soaking panties. "Yeah. I am."
Ben growled with approval into the phone.
"Now you," I whispered. "I want you to touch too."
He angled himself in the window, one foot up on the ledge, a hand reaching to unzip and pull himself free. I silently cursed at the distance that kept me from seeing clearly. But I could see enough to confirm that he was more than a handful. Which meant it was my turn to growl with approval. "You're not bad looking, Ben."
"Are you kidding? I'm a sexy beast. And you like seeing what you do to me."
"I'd like to do more than see," I murmured, aching to touch him.
"And I'd love to taste you, Becca. I wanna lay you down, and put your legs over my shoulders, and lick you like candy. I want to tongue your slit, and nibble your clit until you're screaming my name."
Oh. More words I never thought to hear uttered by the Ben White. Words that went straight to the core of me and made me melt. I watched him stroke, up and down, his breath hitching into the phone.
And my fingers danced in answer.
None of this seemed so ridiculous anymore.
"Ben," I panted.
"Say my name, again," he pleaded. "Because I love the way you say my name."
"Ben," I breathed.
"Your voice is so sexy. Everything about you is sexy, Becca, and I think you'd be even sexier, if you did everything I told you to."
My fingers paused. "I rebel against authority…"
"Don't worry. I can find ways to make you behave."
Huh. I'd experimented a few times with boyfriends who wanted to tie me up or be tied up. But all that BDSM play didn't seem as real as this suddenly was. With my pulse pounding in my ears, I asked, "Are you a dom, Ben?"
"Little bit," was his answer. "Or a control freak. Take your pick."