Page 41 of The Sound of Harmony

How does he do that? “Um, I’d have to think about it.”

“No, you wouldn’t. You know the place. The secret place that you like.”

Emma ran her hands down the outside of her thighs. “It’s…um?” Her voice rose in pitch, high and thready. She parted her legs. “There’s this spot, on the back of my knee, it’s like…mmm.”

“What was that?”

“I can’t…I can’t describe it. But there’s this spot, in the hollow at the back of my knee.” She put one finger there. Two. Wishing it was Kendrick touching her, kissing her. Her t-shirt and undies were bothering her. Why was she wearing so many clothes? “That spot is kind of ticklish but also…”

“You like it,” Kendrick finished for her. “It excites you. You like to be kissed there. Gently. With the barest touch of lips. Warm breath. Maybe a flicker of tongue. Lingering there a moment, before traveling up your legs.”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Yes,” he echoed.

Emma’s hands needed to touch, to explore. She felt slick, lush, alive. She rolled on her bed, feeling a rush of desire, and the frustration of being alone. She wanted Kendrick. She wanted his voice and his lips and his tongue. She wanted to explore his body, and have him explore hers in turn. She wanted to wrap every part of herself around him. She wanted teasing, tasting, entering, coming.

“One last question.” Kendrick’s voice was like syrup, dripping with lust, making her whole body ache for him. “Have you ever thought about me when you touch yourself?”

Emma squeezed her eyes shut. Could she say it? It didn’t matter if she said it out loud or not. He already knew. “Yes.”

“Are you touching yourself now?”

Emma’s eyes flew open. “Are you?”

“I asked you first,” he said.

Oh, God. He was. And so was she. They were so far apart from one another, but it was as if he was in the room with her. “I’ve never done anything like this before,” she said.

“Phone sex?”

“Phone sex sounds so last century.”

“So what?” Kendrick said. “I’m really turned on by you.”

“I am too,” she said.

“I’d like to be turned on with you. Please, Emma. Touch yourself. Tell me what you’re feeling. Pretend it’s me.”

She thought about his lips, and how they would feel on hers. She thought about his hands, and how much she wanted them on her skin. She thought about every part of him. What would he look like? Feel like? Taste like? Her hands glided over her breasts, down her ribcage, and lower still. Electricity seemed to follow her fingers as she listened to Kendrick’s breathing.

“What would you do if you were here?” she asked.

“First, I would slowly remove your clothes,” Kendrick said. “Lift your shirt above your waist, and smooth my hands over your skin. I’d ask you to lift your arms so I could take your shirt off over your head.”

Emma couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. It was as if Kendrick had pinned her in place with his words. She was warm all over and ready for whatever came next.

“And then,” he said, “With your shirt around your arms, and your arms over your head, I will start kissing you. Flute players know how to move our lips to get the effect we want. I’ll kiss you the way you want to be kissed.”

Emma moaned. He was a good kisser too? This might be her undoing.

“I’ll kiss you behind your ears, under your chin, your neck. It will tickle, but you’ll love it. I’ll move down to your breasts, taking the nipples into my mouth. I’ll taste you. Mmm. Your skin tastes like fruit and spices. You’re as inviting as springtime and I want more.”

“More?” Emma asked. Yes, please more.

“So much more. When you lower your arms—”

“To touch you,” Emma said. “To undress you.”