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Just as my hand circles the base of my already throbbing cock, my phone rings, startling me.
I set it to vibrate when Kirby is home even though the kid could sleep through a foghorn sounding in her room.
I scoop it up, intending to press the ignore button, but I answer as soon as I see Carrie’s name dancing on the screen.
“Hey,” I growl into it.
“Oh,” she mutters. “Hey. I didn’t wake you with my text message, did I? I just realized how late it is. I was asleep but woke up and started thinking, and…”
“I was awake,” I interrupt to reassure her. “I rarely get to bed before one or two.”
“Seriously?” she asks, her voice a touch louder now. “I go to bed at ten every night. Well, almost every night, I was late with that tonight because of our…because we were at the restaurant.”
She’s still hesitant to call it a date, but I’m not one to label anything, so I shrug it off. “What time do you wake up if you go to bed at ten?”
“Five.”
On the mornings I have Kirby, I’m not far behind that. My child is a morning person through and through. She’d be up at the crack of dawn seven days a week if allowed, but Chesca has been on a mission to get Kirby into a routine that keeps her in dreamland until at least seven.
That’s fallen on Maura’s shoulders for the most part since she spends her nights at Chesca’s apartment when Kirby is there. On the nights I have our daughter, Maura retires to the one bedroom apartment I bought her a few blocks from here.
When Kirby’s with me overnight, it’s just the two of us. I get up whenever she wanders into my bedroom and tells me it’s time to start our day.
The way I see it is that one day, Kirby will have less time for me, so I’ll take what I can get while I can.
“I’ve followed that routine since college, or maybe longer than that.” She takes a breath. “It’s worked for me.”
“That’s what counts.” My hand reverts back to the path it was on before she called.
I trail my fingers over my abs toward their final destination. I’m aching with need, and even though I highly doubt Carrie would be into phone sex since I don’t think the words pussy, cock, or fucking are in her vocabulary, I can use the breathy sound of her voice to get myself close so as soon as I hang up, I can blow all over my stomach.
“Why a hotel?” I ask on a heavy breath as I circle my dick with my hand again.
“A few reasons,” she says.
“Name one,” I pry.
It doesn’t matter to me where the bed we land in is located, but I want to keep her on the phone.
A light laugh escapes her. “Your neighbors. What if I’m loud?”
My cock jolts in my hand. “I’ll fucking love that.”
“What?” Her laughter intensifies. “You would love it if I was loud?”
“I’d fucking love it,” I correct her before pushing it even more, “I’m hard right now thinking about that.”
“You’re hard?” Her voice drops to a whisper.
I laugh out loud because I’m close to one hundred percent sure she’s alone at Declan and Abby’s. Unless she’s trying not to wake their cat, there’s no reason for her to whisper.
“Are you alone?” I ask, need woven into each syllable.
“Yes,” she whispers again, but I swear there’s a note of something else in her tone.
“Carrie,” I say her name, readying for a question that I hope will make her pencil losing her virginity into her schedule for tomorrow.
“Please don’t ask what I’m wearing.” She lets out a laugh that’s as light as a breeze. “That’s so cliché.”
