“What was that?”
“Had to take off my pants.”
“Oh. What about your shirt?”
“Wasn't wearing one.”
Goose bumps raced over the surface of my skin. Had this been what he'd wanted all along?
“What are you wearing, Katherine?”
Damn. His voice. I clamped my eyes shut while the sound of my own name echoed in my head. “A blouse I wore to work.”
“And?”
“And panties. And a bra, of course.”
“Tell me more.”
I had to look down my own shirt. I couldn't remember what I'd put on that morning. “The bra is white. Well, it's more of an ivory color.”
“You gotta give me more than that, darling. Silk? Satin? Lace?” Everything he said came out in a low, sexy rumble.
“The bra is a sort of soft fabric. I'm not sure what it is, really. Microfiber or polyester or some sort of blend.”
He laughed under his breath. “You're terrible at this.”
“Hey. This is my first time and I'm trying. I liked it better when you were telling me the dirty thoughts that were going through your head. That worked better for me.”
“Fair enough. Let's make a deal. You take off the rest of your clothes and I'll talk.”
That sounded like the best deal ever. The anticipation was almost too much to take. It wasn't like seeing him for real, getting to touch him and hold him and have him do the same to me, but right now, in my sad and quiet apartment, this was heaven. “One minute.”
I tossed the phone onto the mattress, pulled my blouse up over my head, unhooked my bra and got rid of my panties lightning fast. If he asked about those, I would have to lie and tell him that they matched the bra. Plain pink cotton wasn't probably going to excite him too much. “Okay. I'm done.” I got back on the phone and tore back the covers, settling in on the bed with my head on the pillow. “I’m ready.”
“Good. Because I've already got my cock in my hand.”
I blinked about five million times in two seconds. Eamon wasnotmessing around. “Oh. I see.” I frantically scanned my brain for a logical thing to say, but was drawing a complete blank. I tried to think of what other sexy women might say, but the only person I could come up with was Ms. Moneypenny from James Bond. I'd stayed up too late watchingOctopussythe other night. “Are you hard?” I came a little too close to calling him James.
“I haven't been this hard in a long time, darling. I wish you were here. I wish I could have you on your knees, with your gorgeous lips wrapped around me.”
I was so close to calling bullshit on his claim that he was a phone sex virgin, but this wasnotthe time. “It's been a long time since I've done that to you.”
“Too long. But I thought about it when you were at my hotel the other morning. I thought about how much I liked reciprocating.”
My eyes were half-closed, my mind conjuring images of him and the way it felt to have my knees up by his ears, his hair in my hands, his lips on my body. There wasn't much better in the sexual arena than having Eamon go down on me. He was so damn patient.
I reached down and touched myself, flinching for an instant. My skin was so hyper-sensitive right now. I tried to replicate what he could do, the delicate circles he would wind with his tongue. It wasn't exactly the same, but it was the closest I'd been in forever.
“Are you wet?” he asked.
“I am.” I sucked in a breath and rocked my head back and forth on the pillow. “Talk to me.”
“After you left the other morning, I was hard as a rock. I had to wank off, and I thought about you the whole time. I thought about burying myself in you and making you say my name.”
I smiled softly, floating in and out of consciousness. I was close. The tension was coiling, but it felt so damn good, I was trying to skirt the climax. “Was it good?”
“I came all over my chest. I had to take another shower.”
