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An incoming call interrupted the calming melody playing from her “Chill Out” Spotify playlist. Kris dried her hands with a nearby towel before reaching for her phone so she could decline the call. She did not appreciate interruptions during bath time—until she saw the name on the screen.
Her heart rate went from five to five hundred in zero point one second. Anticipation and pleasure kicked in, followed by a strange rush of nerves.
“Hey.” She didn’t sound like herself. Too breathless, too excited.
But she couldn’t bring herself to care.
“Hey.” Nate’s whiskey voice had all her lady parts standing at attention. Her nipples puckered into diamond points, and moisture that had nothing to do with her bath slicked her core. Yes, she wasthatsexually frustrated. “What are you up to?”
Kris leaned back, not bothering to suppress the giant smile spreading across her face. “I’m taking a bath.”
There was a pause. “Really.” It wasn’t a question, and Nate’s voice had gone from whiskey to gravel.
“Mmhmm.” It came out as a purr. Kris placed him on speaker, set the phone on the porcelain rim, and leaned her head back until it rested on the waterproof cushion she’d fixed to the head of the tub. “Ask me what else I’m doing.”
“What else are you doing?”
A pleasurable ripple of goosebumps erupted all over her flesh following Nate’s low growl.
“I’m thinking of you and me, fucking in the tub.” Kris closed her eyes and slipped one hand between her thighs while the other played with her aching nipples.
Usually, they didn’t jump straight into the phone sex. They’d catch each other up first—on Kris’s classes, on Nate’s shoot progress. They’d share funny stories, lingering doubts and nightmares, and little things that had irritated them or made them smile since they spoke last, like Kris being forced to dance and dress up as a Spice Girl for one of her sorority events—damn Courtney; at least Kris had snagged the Posh Spice role—and Nate nailing one of his scenes in one take.
But it had been two weeks, and Kris was too impatient and frustrated to wait. Her vibrator wasn’t the same without Nate’s voice as an oh-so-sexy complement.
He didn’t speak now, but his heavy, quickened breathing told her he was hanging onto every word she said.
“I’m sitting with my back against your chest, riding you.” Kris could picture the scene in her head, as clear as day. Heat pooled in her belly, and she tilted her pelvis, wishing Nate was actually inside her, filling her up.
“Yeah? Do you like how that feels?” he murmured, his question black silk over crushed ice, ripe with lust and an edge of something even more primal. “Having my cock buried deep in your pussy?”
Absence made the heart grow fonder—and the sex talk filthier, which Kris didn’t mind. At all.
She gasped, her fingers slick with a mix of water and her juices as she rubbed furious circles on her clit. Her cheeks flushed, and her skin stretched hot and tight in arousal. “Yes,” she moaned. “God, yes.”
“I know you do. I bet you like it even more when I reach around and play with your clit and pretty nipples…”
As Nate detailed exactly what he’d like to do her body, Kris arched up, her breath coming out in short pants. The bathwater had turned lukewarm, but she might as well be sitting in lava, she was so hot. Her skin burned, and heat sizzled down her spine, chasing release.So close. So, so—
“Don’t come,” Nate ordered. “Not yet.”
Kris whimpered in protest. “But—”
The sound of the doorbell broke through her fog of lust. Who the fuck was visiting her at this time of the night?
“Is someone at the door?” Nate asked, still in that gravelly voice.
“Yes, but they’ll go away.”
“Answer it.” A pause. “Put some clothes on first.”
Kris had never taken well to orders, but she couldn’t deny the flutters in her stomach at Nate’s territorial growl.
The doorbell rang again, and she groaned.
“I’ll be right back,” she said, irritated and frustrated by both her delayed orgasm and the unwanted interruption.
“I’ll be here,” Nate drawled.
