Playing (Inked Hearts 2)

God, he's so freaking yummy it's ridiculous.

"You want more?" he asks.

A blush spreads across my cheeks. It's not like I'm used to guys offering to send me nude pictures.

Okay. He sent me a picture in his underwear. It's only fair I do the same. Even if I'm not wearing any underwear. I pull my tank top to my bellybutton so my breasts are on display.

I've never taken a sexy picture of myself before. I know all the ways it's a bad idea, all the ways it could hurt me, but I don't care.

This feels too good for me to care.

I snap a picture of my chest and neck and send it to Miles.

He lets out a groan. "Fuck, Meg, you're killing me."

Yes. Perfect. I'm going to be the one in control here. "How so?"

"I miss your tits."

"You saw them last week."

"I want to see them every day. To see that look on your face when I suck on your nipples."

So much for control. I'm melting. Heat rushes through my body. Whatever it is we're doing, I can't stop until I get what he promised me, until he's groaning in my ear.

"What else?" I ask.

"Take off your shorts," he says.

I do. "Take off your boxers."

There's a low groan and then silence. A moment later, my phone buzzes. He took off his boxers and sent me a picture. That must be…

I look at my new picture message. It's Miles. All of him. He's naked and hard, his hand wrapped around his cock. I always thought it was strange when women wanted these pictures, but now I understand. That's Miles, hard and desperate and out of his mind because of me.

"I've never done this before," I say.

"Me either."

"Really?"

"Really."

I pull my tank top over my head and toss it aside. I'm naked on my bed. If I close my eyes, I almost feel like he's here, like he's watching me. I run my fingertips over my chest. "I don't know what to say."

"I don't care what you say. I just want to hear you come."

Dammit, I'm on fire. This is perfect.

I don't want to hear anything except his breath and his moans. Maybe my name rolling off his tongue like he's so desperate he can't find another word to explain his pleasure.

I set the phone on the bed next to me, between my mouth and my ears. My hand trails over my chest, teasing my nipples the way Miles does.

It's good already. Not as good as him, but close. I play with my nipples until his breath is as heavy and strained as mine is. Then I trail my hand down my stomach, below my belly button, between my legs.

My breath hitches in my throat. "You have to do it, too."

His voice is heavy. "After. I want to hear you first."