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“Is Grey there?”
“He just got in. He’s in the shower.” She lowered her voice, pressed the receiver closer to her lips, her voice betraying her emotion. “Why won’t you talk to me?”
“I’ll call back later.”
“Heath, please.” Why didn’t he talk to her? Was she the only one who felt this?
The tomblike silence was deafening.
When she spoke again, she sounded desperate even to her own ears. “Please. Please.Talk to me, Heath.”
For a wrenching heartbeat, she thought he would hang up, but then his terse, emotional hiss charged into her ear. “I’m losing my mind. I get hard just listening to your voice. I hurt all over, all day. You’re in my mind, in my dreams. I try and try to forget you, and just knowing you’re with Grey is driving nails into me.”
She squeezed her eyes shut as she fell back on her pillow, the sheets cold against her nape while her body felt so hot. “I hurt, too.”
“Cat, baby.” His sharp inhale skittered through her. “Where do you hurt, tell me?”
My heart. Toni hesitated before saying it. Grey would hear. He would see. He would know. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. It was all wrong, it was all terribly, unbearably wrong.
“I hurt all over.”
“Where?” His voice dropped to a coo that might have been meant to soothe her but wreaked havoc on her rioting nerves. “In your little pussy?”
“Y-yes.”
“Oh, Cat, what I wouldn’t give to be there now. I’d kiss you until I don’t know who I am anymore, spread those long, silky legs and . . .”
Planting her heels on the bed, she spread open her legs, sliding her fingers into her panties, imagining it was him searching her body to find this place he’d been before.This place that missed and wanted him so badly. “And?” she asked when he stopped. “Please tell me.”
“I can’t do this.”
“Heath, tell me!” She pinched her clit so hard she winced in pain. It was nothing, that pain. Compared to the other. Nothing. “I’m wearing your dress.”
“Oh, baby.”
“I’m so wet just hearing you. My cream is all over me. I’m touching my clit and I’m desperate; I want your fingers in me.”
He made a strangled sound.
She found her slick folds and gentled her strokes, pleasure radiating up to her tingling breasts.“Heath.” She moaned as she circled. “Oh, Heath.”
“I can hear you panting for me,” he said in a terse rasp.“Are you touching yourself? I want to hear what you’re doing.”
“I’m touching my pussy. I want it to be you.”
He made another sound, full of agony and frustration, then croaked, “Where are you?”
“On the bed, with my legs open. And I ache all over.”
“If I were there, I’d be licking that wet, syrupy puss—” He trailed off when she slipped two fingers through the slit and cried out, moving them fast. The pleasure whirled around her walls, piercing up to her nipples, her pussy rippling with wanting.
“Heath, I miss you so much.” She rocked against her hand, seized by the sound of his voice, the rampaging need that listening to him unleashed in her.
“Toni.” She heard it then, in the sound of his voice, the quick scrape of flesh; she knew he was touching himself. She imagined him pulling from root to crown, humping, sweating, and her blood felt sluggish with arousal.
“Heath, I don’t want you to be with anyone. I think of you going to some prostitute somewhere and I feel sick. You belong with us.”
He didn’t reply. She heard his grunts, his sounds of pleasure. A fever broke in her, merciless, racking her with shudders inside and out. She moved her fingers in her, wishing they were the fat, blunt-tipped fingers of Heath.
