There’s something wildly filthy about this—knowing Seth’s watching the same thing I am from just a few houses over. Knowing he’s hard and wanting, with only my voice and this moment to touch. On-screen, Mr. Grey has his wife bent over now, her teeth sunk into a bite guard while he works a dildo into her ass with slow, practiced rhythm. It’s theatrical, over-the-top, the kind of porn that makes people roll their eyes, but that’s not what’s got my clit tingling and my nipples tightening.
It’s Seth. On the other end of the line. Breathing harder.
“Are you turned on, Soul?” he asks, voice low and hoarse, eyes pinned to mine through the screen.
“Yeah,” I breathe.
“Show me.”
I angle the phone downward, nestling it under the covers so he has a perfect view of my fingers circling my clit.
“Fuck,” he hisses. “Keep doing that. Keep the camera right there.”
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Stroking myself.”
“Because of the Grey’s?”
“No. Because of your pussy. The way you sound when you’re turned on. I just know it’s soaked for me. I’m stroking myself because of you. I wish you were here.”
A soft, breathy laugh escapes me as I continue to tease myself and circle my clit, my gaze flicking from the show to the tiny box on my screen where his face is strained. The veins in his neck flex, his mouth falling open as he watches me.
“Put two fingers inside your cunt,” he commands.
I obey, sliding them inside my pussy. They glide easily, my body clenching around them instantly.
“That’s it, Soul. Fuck—wish I was in there instead. Why the hell are we apart again?”
“You need your sleep,” I whisper, even though I know that’s not the real reason.
The truth sits heavy in my chest. His hamstring. His game tomorrow. His career. If he plays poorly tomorrow, if he’sdistracted because I spent the night, if he gives my dad and Coach Steele any reason to doubt him, he will be traded, and I’d lose him and Sawyer. This late-night distraction could cost him everything.
“I’d throw it all away for you,” he says suddenly, voice stripped of playfulness.
My fingers go still.
“Seth. I don’t ever want you to give up hockey for me.”
“I know. But I would.”
On-screen, Mr. Grey is on his back now, and Mrs. Grey is bouncing on his cock, her large tits swaying, her head tossed back while she talks to him about her day like this is a normal way for them to catch up. I hear something about laundry, yoga, dinner for the kids. It’s a casual conversation between two married people. It’s safe and wholesome. Well, as wholesome as it can be.
He’s looking up at her, like she’s the moon and he’s an astronaut. That’s the part I’m addicted to. The realness of it. The love. The emotional intimacy underneath all that heat. Somehow, they’ve found a way to make the absolute mundane activities that we all do, the stressful moments that come with having kids and managing a household, beautiful,romanticand sexy.
That’s what I want. I want the heat of passionate sex, and I want the romance of an evening spent in, cuddled up, doing chores and cooking meals together.
“You want this,” he says simply. “I want this, too” he murmurs, eyes boring into the screen even though he can’t see my face since I have the screen angled under the sheets. “I never thought I was much of a romantic ‘til I met you. Now I know Ilikebeing in love.”
He doesn’t say the words outright, but they’re there. Hanging between us, thick and full and real. Seth loves me. I draw in a breath as I press into myself harder.I love Seth, too.
“I don’t want to spend another night apart. This is torture.”
I wet my lips, breathe shallow as I start to sweep my fingers inside me. The pressure builds fast, like it always does when he says something that’s vulnerable.
“I know.”
“Good. Then this is the last night.” He groans.
