“I’m so close. Don’t stop.” I’m not talking to my own hand; I’m talking to Alex and his dirty mouth. It’s the driving force behind my impending orgasm.
I moan his name and some profanity as heat funnels into the center of my body. The phone falls from my ear as the orgasm hits. It’s like dropping a Mentos into a bottle of soda.
Alex’s voice is soft and distant while he croons from halfway under my pillow. “That’s it, let me hear you come. God, I wish I was inside you . . . ah shit, I’m gonna—”
I scramble for the phone. There’s no way I’m going to miss this. Alex rasps my name in the sexiest way imaginable. I close my eyes and envision him naked—fisting his cock, coming on his perfect abs.
I give him a moment to catch his breath before I attempt conversation. It’s a lame one. “Sooo . . .”
“God that was hot. What are you wearing? I pictured you topless in boxers.”
“You got the bottom half mostly right. I’m wearing a tank top. It’s white, so you’d be able to see my nipples through it if you were here.” I find it interesting Alex asks about my apparel after the phone sex.
“Will you take a picture and send it to me?”
“What if you lost your phone and it got leaked on the Internet?” I also look terrible in most pictures, especially selfies.
“Hm. Good point. I don’t want anyone else to see you naked. Or partially naked. I can wait if I have to. So you’ll come to Toronto? I’ll have the ticket sent to you tomorrow.”
“Let me check with my boss first. Give me until tomorrow night to see if I can work something out. If Sidney and my mom want to go, he’ll cover the cost so you don’t have to.”
“I want to buy the ticket.”
I’m worried about Buck’s reaction. I don’t care what he thinks, but Alex has to play with him for the rest of the season. If things don’t work out between us, it could mess up his game. I can’t imagine Buck being all buddy-buddy with Alex if he finds out he’s sticking his monster cock in my beaver den.
“When you make the playoffs, you can fly me out to one of those games.” Those are a long way off. Who knows what will be happening between us then?
“You’ll let me do that?”
“Yeah.”
“You’ll stay with me in Toronto even if you fly out with your family this weekend?”
“Definitely.” I stifle a yawn.
“Okay. I should probably let you go; it’s late there, isn’t it?”
“It is. But middle of the night phone booty was worth being woken up for.”
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, sexy girl.” His voice is soft, like feathers drifting over my skin.
“Night, Alex.”
“Night, baby.”
VIOLET
The next evening, Charlene hangs out at my place. I have a plan to get Sidney to take us to the game in Toronto, and Charlene is part of the persuasion package.
I prepare for martini happy hour and wait for my mother’s arrival. The drinks are necessary. She’s a cyclone you don’t want to get caught up in, especially with Charlene around to feed her hyperactivity. I didn’t get my energy level from my mom.
Martini in hand, Charlene follows me into my bedroom while I search my drawers for something comfortable to wear. I need to do laundry. All my favorite Marvel Comic boxer briefs are dirty. I settle on leggings and a T-shirt.
“What’s this?” Charlene asks.
I turn, prepared to issue a snide comment, until I see she’s holding the Waters beaver. My fingers twitch with the urge to rip it from her hands.
“It’s a stuffed animal.” I pick up my phone from my dresser and scroll through my messages to avoid eye contact.
“I see that. Where’d you get it?” Charlene flips it over, inspecting the back of its mini jersey.
“Alex sent it to me.” My skin gets hot. I bet I’m blotchy.
“Oh, Violet.” Charlene nuzzles the beaver, rubbing her nose on top of its head. “Do you sleep with his beaver?”
She’s mocking me, and I don’t appreciate it. Plus she’s touching my Waters beaver. I’m a tad territorial about my presents from Alex. I don’t let anyone else near the books he’s sent me. I also hid the box of Godiva from my mom to avoid sharing.
“You can’t tell me that if you had a full-body pillow in the likeness of Darren Westinghouse, you wouldn’t hump it before bed every night.”
Charlene drops the beaver on my bed and wipes her hands on her pants. “You’re disgusting.”
“I don’t hump his beaver. I was making a point, you pervert.”
“Oh. Right. Do you think I can get a full-body pillow of Darren?”
“I’m sure you could have one made.”
I pick up the beaver and cuddle him furtively—or not so furtively—before I set him back on the bed, pet his little head, and stroke his cute buck teeth.
“So what’s going on? You’re like a crack addict on a sugar high right now.”