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He laughs. A rough, sexy laugh that makes my legs clench together. “You suck at lying.”

“Okay, fine. I was touching myself. Happy now? Drop it.” I groan in frustration.

“No can do. Bet your greedy fingers crave to sink inside of you. I’m sure it turns you on to think of me getting myself off to the image of your hands on my dick.”

“Uh.” I will neither confirm nor deny, seeing as Liam can tell when I lie anyway.

“Let’s pretend, Sophie. Imagine me there with you, my body pressing against yours as my fingers run against your thighs, heat following where my fingers touch. Your needy clit throbbing for my touch while your pussy desires my tongue. Put me on speaker. Now.”

“What happened to you waiting for me to give in?”

“You gave in the moment your fingers touched your clit to the image of me. Don’t play coy with me.”

I dislike his perceptiveness.

He doesn’t let me get a word in. “Get this shit going, I’m done being patient today. My dick is throbbing at the idea of you touching yourself.”

My fingers rush to press the speaker button, the sounds of sheets rustling on Liam’s end echoing in my room.

What the hell are you doing? Having phone sex with him? You’re 110% going to regret this one.

“Stop thinking. Close your eyes and fucking feel.” His clipped voice fills me with excitement. “Touch yourself while your other hand palms your tit. Imagine my calloused hands running against your skin, lingering where I want to kiss you. Fuck, I wish I could see you. Wish I could taste you.”

My hand follows his demand, running across my center before dipping inside. I fear to talk, of ending the spell, of every freaking thing involving Liam.

“Tell me what you were thinking about before, what gets Little Miss Perfect off.”

I swallow back my fear. “You.” One word, heavy with meaning and implication, of consequences and obstacles I can’t prepare myself for. The phone feels like a barrier, safely hiding me from facing my feelings head-on. Of facing him head-on.

He grunts into the phone. “Push two fingers inside of you. Feel how fucking wet you are for me. Because shit, I’m hard from the thought of you pleasuring yourself to the sound of my voice.”

My body buzzes at his order. “I was thinking of you in your room, a bead of pre-cum dripping from your tip as you fist your dick, the idea of me on replay in your head as you come.” Where my brazenness comes from, I have no freaking clue. I guess phone sex makes me courageous.

“You’re on a fucking loop in my head. The same shit replays because I can’t get you out no matter how hard I try, no matter how many times you call me a friend. I want to fuck friendship out of you, erasing the word from your memory. I think of you begging me to fuck you, with my cock filling you up and making you feel so damn good. You’ll scream my name and scratch at my back. I’ll make it my mission to have you chanting my name like a goddamn prayer while I explode inside of you.”

A tingle starts in my toes and carries up my spine, nerves firing off as I pump two fingers into myself, curling enough to stroke my G-spot. Liam’s words rush through my brain and obliterate any doubt. He paints a picture of us that feeds my desire, his dick pumping into me as he pulls my orgasm from me.

“I always want you like a needy asshole. I’m in so fucking deep that you don’t even need to say anything to turn me on. Your heavy breathing tells me enough, the idea of you finger-fucking yourself to me making my balls clench and my dick ache. I want in. I want you to drop your defenses and let me take over. Allow me to show you how good it can be with us.” He half snarls the last sentence.

“Yes.” I moan as my orgasm hits me, my thumb pressing against my clit as my fingers continue to tease me.

“I’m right there with you.” Liam’s groan rumbles through the speakerphone.

We both come, my chest heaving as Liam moans into the phone. Neither one of us says anything as we gather ourselves.

Uncertainty creeps in the dark and replaces my orgasm-induced high. Realization dawns on me that I came to the sound of Liam’s naughty words and of him jacking off.

Oh God. What did I do?

“Stop doubting everything,” he growls into the phone.

“I have to go. Look at the time!”

“Don’t—”

I click the red button. It’s fitting how the red circle reminds me of a self-destruct button because that’s what the fuck I did to my perfectly laid plan.

* * *


Tags: Lauren Asher Dirty Air Romance