“Yup.”
“Who the fuck’s Cole?”
“Deacon’s friend.”
“And why does you getting shit-faced have something to do with this Cole?”
“It doesn’t.”
He was this close to banging his head against the steering wheel. “Rusty, who is Cole to you?”
“A friend…but Piper, she’s been mooning over the guy for years.”
Okay. He was finally getting somewhere. “So going out drinking, the ‘no more waiting,’ that was Piper’s idea?”
“Yeah. So why didn’t you ask me out?”
She was drunk, but apparently drinking didn’t affect her memory. “Was gonna do that tonight.”
“You were?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you still going to?”
“When you sober up.”
“I’ve enjoyed our talks,” she said, shifting conversational gears, then gave him another one of those light-up-the-room smiles.
“Me, too, Foxy.”
“I like it when you call me foxy.”
Now he was back to smiling.
“Did you like talking to me?” she said, turning in her seat, curling her legs up underneath her.
“Of course.”
“Did you like talking to me…a lot?”
“Yeah, Rusty.”
“Like, a lot, a lot?”
“What are you getting at?”
She was blushing, he could see even in the dim light of the car, but she didn’t turn away, kept those beautiful eyes full of mischief and fire aimed at him. “The last time we talked, I thought…I thought that maybe you…” She bit her lip.
He knew she’d figured out what he was doing the last time they’d talked. Her voice had grown huskier, her breathing heavier. He’d wanted her to know. “What? You thought what?”
She wriggled in her seat. “Were you…touching yourself?”
“I was stroking my cock the whole time you talked to me. Your voice makes me so hard, my balls ache. So fucking hard I had no choice but to take my dick in my hand and get myself off while I listened to you. I finished before our phone call did.”
“Oh.” Her chest rose and fell faster now, and her smooth, bare thighs were squeezed tightly together. “You did that, just from my voice?”
“All I need when it comes to you.”
