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I went with an arrogant voice, and it did the trick. She giggles.
I arch a brow as I stroke my aching dick. “What’s so funny, Cleo?”
“I can’t believe I’m talking about this. With Kellan Walsh of all people.”
I lean back against the wall and lift my legs up onto the second-story floor. I raise my knees and spread my legs slightly. “The insults keep coming.”
She snorts. “You’re an uptight, rule-following douche—or so I thought.”
“I do make a strong—and wrong—first impression.”
I hear her yawn. “I never thought I’d be discussing stuff like this with you. I can’t believe you called me after I got you in the balls.”
“I didn’t call to chat.” I’m going for stern, but I feel like I can hear a smile when she says, “What did you call to do?”
I imagine her pussy, spread open—pink and dripping. “I wanted to give you one more chance to work with me. To live with me. To be fucked by me.”
“Your arrogance astonishes me, Mr. Walsh.”
I try to analyze her voice and find it curious. Soft and feminine and definitely curious, despite claiming she was scared.
She wants me.
Just like I want her.
“Let me make you come—right now. With just my words. When I do, you’ll move in with me.”
Damnit, but his voice is really sexy. It’s the kind of voice that pervert hypnotists use... right before they tell you to strip off all your clothes.
Just a voice on the other end of the line. Not a person. That’s what I tell myself.
“Where are you, Cleo?” it purrs. “Tell me, are you in your bed?”
“Yes.” I’ve got a soft fleece blanket tucked around me, and I’m looking up at the glow stars on my ceiling.
“Tell me what you’re wearing,” he instructs.
I hesitate while my heart pounds, pumping blood to the growing heat between my legs.
Should I lie?
I open my mouth, and the truth tumbles out. “Just a t-shirt.”
“Take it off for me, Cleo.”
My hand, between my legs, pauses as I argue with myself. I would probably be masturbating even if I wasn’t on the phone with him, so I’m not doing this for him. I’m just... horny right now. Yeah. He might be crazy and a total ass, but I do think he’s hot. So what if I use his deep voice to get myself off?
“Are you naked, Cleo?”
“Yes,” I lie. “I’m naked.”
“You’re not naked. Take your shirt off, Cleo. Take it off now, or I’ll come and do it for you.”
My eyes widen, and I’m not sure if I should laugh or cream my panties. “You’re good, Walsh.”
“That’s Master Walsh to you. Pull your shirt over your head and cup your breasts, Cleo.”
I put the phone down, and yeah, I’m doing it. I pull my shirt over my head, and my hair falls around my shoulders. The cool stream of air from my box fan makes my nipples harden.
