Home > The One for Me (Danvers #8)(49)

The One for Me (Danvers #8)(49)
Author: Sydney Landon

She giggled at his attempt to lighten the mood. “It was . . . nothing specific really. The usual long day.”

Even though she tried to sound light and airy, Mark could tell there was more to it than that. She seemed happy to talk to him, but he could detect a note of strain beneath the surface. “Did you speak to your mother today?” he asked casually, figuring that was the source of her unhappiness.

In a rapid-fire change of subject, she asked playfully, “So . . . what’re you wearing, DeStudo?”

If her evening had been anything like his, then he figured she needed an escape, because he certainly did. So, he went along with her diversion and replied, “Still dressed in everything except my jacket. How about you, Angel? What’s touching that beautiful body of yours?”

She hesitated for a moment. “A T-shirt and panties. I wanted to say something more exciting, but I’m going with the truth.”

“I can’t imagine anything better than what you’ve just described. I bet that shirt is riding up and the curve of your sweet ass is peeking out. If I were there, I’d have my hand right on that spot where it connects with your thigh. You’re so sensitive that you’d shudder as I stroked you.”

“Oh, wow.” He heard her breath hitch, and he knew without seeing her that she was biting her plump lip. That mouth drove him crazy. He spent far too much time thinking of it wrapped around his cock. Then she surprised him by asking—or more like mumbling shyly—“Do you . . . I mean, have you ever tried . . . phone sex?”

He couldn’t help it; her question had him bursting into laughter. He heard her huffing in irritation before he finally got himself back under control enough to say, “Yeah, but it’s been a long time.”

“Oh,” she murmured, “I guess it was never something that the great DeStudo had to resort to very often.”

“That’s true,” he agreed truthfully. “I think we both know I haven’t lacked for female company, Angel, but I will say this. Right now, other than being with you in person, there is nothing else I’d rather be doing. In the past I would have gone out tonight and found someone. Fuck knows I needed the release, but it just didn’t interest me.”

“Really?” she asked, sounding almost giddy at his words. He’d never been one for flowery speeches, and to him, what he’d just said didn’t even come close to romantic. But it seemed to make her happy, and it was certainly the truth. All he wanted right now was her, and phone sex sounded pretty damn appealing.

“Baby, I could drag this out for a while, tease you with taking off one article of clothing at a time, but I think we need to cut to the chase. So how about you be a good girl for me and remove that shirt and your panties. While you’re doing that, I’m going to take my clothes off and then I’m going to stroke my cock while you touch yourself. Does that work for you?”

“Um—yes!” she squeaked. “I’m er . . . going to do that—what you said—right now. Hang on, okay?”

Chuckling under his breath, he said, “All right, baby.” Then he laid the phone down before tossing off his clothing. Instead of returning to the sofa, he went to the bed. The sheets felt smooth and cool against his overheated skin. “You back, Angel?” he asked as his hand encircled his hard length. He clicked the SPEAKER button on his phone and dropped it on the bed beside him.

“I’m here,” she answered right away. “I’m naked. Should I be on top of the covers or under them? Is there like a certain position that you’re supposed to assume for this?”

He smiled, wanting to laugh at her question but managing to bite it back. “Put your phone on speaker and lie on top of your comforter, Angel—then spread your legs for me. Now touch yourself and tell me if you’re wet.” He heard a rustling sound and knew that she was doing as he instructed.

He pinched the tip of his cock, attempting to relieve a little pressure, as she suddenly moaned low in her throat, admitting, “I’m really wet. And my hand feels good—but not as good as yours.”

“Ah, baby,” he groaned, while pumping his dick. “Slip a finger inside you.” He knew by the sounds she was making that she’d done exactly as he asked. “Rub your clit with your other hand.”

“That feels so good,” she whimpered. “Are you . . . doing it too?”

As his balls tightened painfully, he said, “Yeah, Angel. I’m imagining plunging deep inside of your wet heat while I bury my tongue in your mouth. I’m so hard right now that I can hardly stand it. And it’s all for you, baby. Now add another finger and stretch yourself.”

“I’m close,” she wailed, and he could hear her how close she was to her orgasm through the phone line. “Oh, Mark—I wish you were here.”

“Me too, baby,” he gasped out as his hips surged forward. With the sounds of her cries in his ears, he shot streams of cum onto his belly. He knew he called her name as she continued to call his. “Are you okay, Angel?” he managed to ask when he finally recovered. She’d been quiet for the last minute or so, not saying anything.

“Mmm-hmm,” she sighed, sounding both tired and satisfied. “That was awesome. I mean, it’s not the same as—you know, but it was still one of the best ever.”

“For me as well,” he admitted, and he meant it. He’d come harder from phone sex with her than he had being intimate with most of the other women who’d passed briefly through his life. “It’s late, baby,” he said gruffly, unused to dealing with these types of tender feelings. “You should go to sleep now. You’re working tomorrow, right?”

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