“Run your other hand back up your body,” he tells me. “And put your finger in your mouth.”
I do it.
“Now imagine that’s my cock in your mouth, dirty girl,” he says, and I moan a little into the phone. “Add another finger, go on, make it real.”
“Yes, Sir,” I moan around my fingers, the words muffled. I go right ahead and add all of my fingers, sucking on them, and if I close my eyes, it’s easy to imagine it is him here, kneeling over me, thrusting his cock into my mouth.
“Don’t stop fingering yourself, either,” he reminds me, and I realize my hand has stilled on my pussy. I start to move it again, sliding a finger in and out of myself. “Now go faster, Naomi. Think about me fucking your sexy little mouth as you get yourself off, you dirty girl.”
I move both hands, thrusting one inside myself and the other into my mouth, breathing harder, letting out breathy little moans into the phone. From the other end of the phone, I can hear Jason breathing faster too, his breath hitching.
“Can you hear how hot I am for you, dirty girl? Can you feel it, with my cock in your mouth?” He groans, and I gasp in response, pressing my fingers deeper into my pussy, climbing closer to that release I ache for. “God, I’m so fucking hard right now. I’m touching myself thinking of you, Naomi. The same way I’ve been doing all week. You know you do that to me, don’t you? You make me wild for you.”
My heart races. I want to reply, but I’m also so close to the edge I can’t even formulate words right now. I think he knows that, because he just keeps talking, and every word makes me hotter.
“I want to spend all day and night fucking you, Naomi. I never want to stop. I want to feel my cock drive into your tight little pussy again and again and…”
With a faint cry, I come hard, the orgasm sending waves of pleasure throughout my entire body, all the way to the tips of my fingers and toes. My pussy tightens around my own fingers, as I keep stroking myself. I let my other hand fall away from my face, wet from my tongue, my chest heaving as I try to catch my breath. The phone slips, but I can still here Jason talking.
“That’s it, good girl, good dirty little naughty girl,” he’s whispering.
I draw my hand out and lean down to the speaker, to whisper to him now, sensing he’s close to his own climax. “Are you still thinking about me, Dr. Robinson?” I whisper. “Are you thinking about me gasping as I come around you, about how wet and hot you make me, about how my pussy feels wrapped around your thick shaft…?”
I hear an answering groan on the other end of the line, and I know he’s there. I grin to myself. It’s good to know I have just as much of an effect on him as he does on me.
When his breathing finally evens out, he finally comes back onto the line, a little huff of laughter in his voice. “Well. That was…”
“Hot as hell,” I finish for him.
“I was going to go with, the first time anyone’s ever made me lose control without even being in the same room as me,” he replies, still chuckling softly. “But sure. We’ll go with hot as hell. That works too.”
I feel a thrill of pleasure deep in my belly at knowing what I just accomplished. Knowing the effect I have on him is as wild and direct as the one he has on me. “I’m just glad I didn’t accidentally wake up half the family,” I whisper, laughing.
“Get some rest, Naomi,” he whispers to me, after a couple more minutes of us joking and flirting. “After all, you have a big day tomorrow. And I’ll see you there.”
Another nervous flutter hits me, this time because I’m remembering what I just agreed to. I invited him to meet my entire family. Is this a good idea? Monica would definitely scold me for it. After all, I promised her I was moving slowly. Taking this easy.
But I just tell him goodnight and promise to see him tomorrow. Then I hang up the phone and roll over onto my side, staring at the wall and wondering what I’m getting myself into.
11
“Naomi.”
Uh oh. Mom’s using her danger voice. That can only mean one thing—I’ve somehow managed to piss her off, yet again. Even though the graduation ceremony was lovely, and my cousin adored her bouquet—and didn’t complain at all about the change in flowers—I knew Mom would surely notice the missing lilacs.
Sure enough, she storms over to me now, eyes on the bouquet resting on the banquet table, next to all the gifts my cousin received, and all the food we’ve started to pick at. I was just making myself a plate of finger sandwiches and little cake rolls, because my aunt made them and her baked goods are the absolute best. But when I catch a glimpse of Mom’s expression, I set the plate back down and brace myself.
“What are those?” Mom points to the flowers propped up in a vase beside the cake.
“Flowers,” I reply, offering a bland smile.
Her eyes narrow. Wrong answer. “I can see that, Naomi. I thought I placed an order with you for lilies and lilacs, specifically.”
“You did.”
“So why is that bouquet made up of lilies and some cheap bunches of… what even are those?”
“Daisy spray and hydrangeas,” I say, keeping my voice low and even. A couple of the younger cousins glance our direction, but everyone knows better than to get in my mother’s way when she’s on a rampage.
“I gave you one job,” Mom growls, voice thankfully low enough that it doesn’t interrupt the happenings on the far side of the room, where distant relatives and friends are lining up to hug my cousin and take pictures with her. “One job that is your actual job. Don’t you work in a florist shop for a living? Is this how you treat all of your customers, or are we special in that we get the short straw every time?”
“You’ve never ordered from my shop before, Mom,” I whisper sharply. “And, frankly, I had a customer come in who needed the lilacs more.”
“I can’t believe this.” Mom throws her arms in the air. That must be her signal, because Dad joins her then, resting a hand on her shoulder.
“What’s wrong, honey?”
“Did you see the flowers Naomi brought?”
“I thought they were lovely,” Dad starts, until Mom shoots him a sideways glare, and then he stops short in his tracks. “I mean, for, er, for white flowers….”
“They’re the wrong kind. I ordered these from her weeks ago. But she gave our bouquet to someone else, is that right, Naomi?”
Now it’s Dad’s turn to frown. “Naomi, you know how much work your mother put into planning this party. How could you do something like this to her?”
“Thank you,” Mom nods at him, vindicated.
“Something like this? It’s one bouquet!” I protest. “Anna doesn’t even mind; she loved the flowers. She took a bunch of selfies with them already.”
“That’s not the point,” Mom snaps.
“It’s a show of care, when you do what we ask you to,” Dad adds. “When you don’t, and when you let us down, it shows us that you don’t really care.”
“Or maybe,” interrupts a low, familiar voice at my shoulder. “It’s a sign that she cares a little too much.”
I whirl, jaw open, to find Jason beside me, smiling down at me. When did he get here? I texted him the address, but I didn’t expect him to walk straight into our backyard without a warning. And for him to walk in on this, in the middle of my parents lecturing me like I’m some delinquent teenager… It’s beyond embarrassing. My face burns. But he only turns to my father and offers a hand to shake, seemingly unperturbed.
“My apologies for interrupting,” he says, still with that easygoing smile. “I’m Dr. Robinson. And I’m afraid the flower mix-up here happene
d on my account,” he lies smoothly. “I needed those lilacs for a patient of mine. Naomi was all too happy to provide them.”
“Oh, well… Doctor… Robinson, was it?” Mom seems flustered, even as Dad shakes his hand, and Jason turns to her next. When it’s her turn to shake hands, Mom practically starts giggling. “Well, in that case, I suppose we can understand her giving up the flowers, can’t we, John?”
“Certainly.” Dad smiles. “How did you say you and my daughter know one another?”
“We’re friends,” I interrupt, eyes narrowed, daring them to ask anything else.
“I see.” Mom’s smile remains fixed, though it widens every time she steals a glance in Jason’s direction. “Well, I must say, I’m glad to see my daughter spending time with men of a higher caliber than she has before.” With that final dig about my failed marriage behind her, Mom hooks her arm through my father’s and leads him away.
The second they’re out of earshot, I slump, even as Jason tugs me into a one-armed hug and kisses the top of my head. “God, that was humiliating,” I mumble. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”
“Families.” Jason shakes his head a little, sympathetic. “Believe me, I can sympathize.”
“Thanks anyway for saving me.”
He tucks a finger under my chin and tilts my face up toward his. “Anytime, my damsel in distress.” He winks, and I can’t help it. Even though I know I should be playing it cool in front of, well, my entire family, I let him lean down and kiss me, just a quick, gentle kiss on the mouth. But it sears right through me, leaves my whole body feeling hot and wanting more. “I couldn’t fall asleep after we talked last night,” he murmurs, low and close to my ear. “All I wanted was to see you again. To be with you, feel you in my arms…”
I slide my arms around his waist and lean my head against his shoulder for a second, closing my eyes to savor the sensation of his warm, strong arms around me. “Believe me, I know the feeling,” I whisper. Then I force myself to draw back. “Come on,” I say, catching his hand and tugging him into motion. “Let’s make the rounds.”