“Yeah, Layla,” he grunts. “Yeah, it is.”
I swallow, trembling heatedly and squeezing my thighs together. “And what outcome is that?” I whisper breathlessly.
“You begging me for my cock.”
Before my brain can even process the crude and yet completely panty-meltingly hot thing he’s just said to me, Mason drops his towel. My mind goes blank, and my jaw drops when my eyes land on his huge, rock-hard cock. He wraps a hand around his thickness, and when he strokes, I moan.
“Say yes, Layla. You have no idea how long I’ve fucking wanted you,” he hisses.
I whimper, gripping my towel tightly and feeling the heat pool between my legs. “How long?”
“Longer than you want to know, trust me,” he hisses.
I moan, my entire body shivering as I watch him stroke his cock.
“Show me,” he growls lowly.
“Mason…”
“Show me,” he growls deeply, making me whimper. And before I know it, I’m doing as he says. I reach up and pull the towel away to let it drop. And then, once again, despite all the chastising I’ve given myself for it today, I’m naked in front of a naked Mason again, showing him everything.
He groans roughly into the phone. “Fucking hell, Layla,” he hisses. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”
I moan, stepping closer to the glass, my eyes locked with his and my pulse racing.
“Touch yourself,” he purrs. “Touch your pussy, Layla. Show me how fucking wet you are for me.”
With a broken moan, my hand drops between my legs. I run a finger up my lips and part them. I rub my fingertip over my clit, and I shiver as I moan into the phone for him.
Mason growls and strokes his fat cock, watching me intently. I start to lose myself in it—in letting him see me like this. I can feel myself getting so fucking wet as I shamelessly play with my pussy for him, watching him jerk off for me.
“Hey, Layla?”
“Yes?” I moan.
The lights in his room suddenly shut off, and I hear him snicker into the phone.
“Oh you asshole!” I gasp, lunging away from the window and grabbing my towel. I yank it around myself, trembling all over from being so close to release. “You little shit!”
Mason chuckles into the phone. “The game is on, Layla.”
I scowl. “What?” I hiss. “No! No fucking games!”
He says nothing, and after a long pause, I roll my eyes at myself and frown.
“Okay, okay,” I mutter. “What’s the fucking game?”
Mason chuckles deeply again. “The game of who’s going to break first.”
“Excuse me?”
The light clicks on in his room, and now I see that he’s lying in bed. The sheet is over him, but I blush when I see how obscenely tented it is over his throbbing hard cock. I watch the sheet rustle, and I gasp when I realize he’s still jerking his cock under the sheet.
“Oh fuck,” I breathe out.
“I’m just going to do my thing,” he purrs into the phone. “But when you decide you’ve had enough?” he chuckles. “Well, you know where to find me.”
I groan. “You motherfucker.”
“Sweet dreams, Layla,” he grins. “And don’t forget, you can just say the word that you’re caving first, and I’ll—”
I hang up and stomp out of the bathroom. But goddamn it, the first thing I do is fall into bed face-first and rub my aching clit until I come screaming his name into the pillows.
I think I’m in trouble.