I made sure to sigh loud enough he heard it. “The depths of your perversion know no end.”
“Oh, yeah?” The sound of another door creaking open came through the phone. “Then why don’t you slide that pretty hand of yours inside those panties and tell me whose perversion knows no end too.”
“Soren,” I hissed.
“Time to close your mouth now, girlie. Time to open your legs.”
My throat went dry.
“Touch yourself. I want to know how wet you are.” There was some noise in the background, rustling, and then I heard the telltale sound of a zipper being lowered. “I want to know how bad you want me right now.”
“Did you seriously just unzip your pants in the teacher’s lounge, Soren Decker?”
“I seriously just did. But don’t worry, I locked the door.” His voice hitched, followed by a low rumble I was familiar with.
“Are you . . .?” I swallowed.
“Mm-hmm,” he answered on speaker now. “Are you?”
Holy everything unholy. He was touching himself right this very second. He was stroking himself, thinking of me, imagining moving inside me . . .
My hand dropped to my stomach and slid beneath my underwear as I turned on the speakerphone. I’d barely touched myself and could feel that familiar spiral of release. He didn’t miss the whimper that crested from my lips.
“How bad do you want me right now, Hayden? Tell me how bad you want it.”
My nipples pressed through the cotton of my nightgown as my hand moved lower. I was so wet, my finger slipped right inside, sending my back off the mattress when I imagined him moving inside me instead.
“I want you so badly, Soren.” I whispered his name the way he liked to hear me say it when we came together. As my reward, I heard his rough growl. “I’m fucking myself with my finger right now, pretending it’s your cock.”
“Shit,” he grunted. “I love that filthy mouth. We should have given this phone sex thing a try weeks ago.”
“Enjoying yourself?” My other hand slid around my breast, squeezing it as my finger continued to shuttle inside my body.
“You have no idea. I am so close to coming; I’m going to ease off until you’re close.”
My legs fell open wider as I pictured him above me, holding them open as he pushed inside. “Even when it’s over the phone, you insist on us coming together?”
“Twice the fun, Hayden.”
If I really focused, I could hear him moving. I could hear his hand thrusting down his cock, the sound of his uneven breaths. The picture of him became so vivid, I could see him inside the teacher’s lounge, stretched out on a couch, his zipper undone, his body ready for mine.
I imagined going to him, stripping as I went, sheathing his body inside of mine the moment I covered his lap. It would only take a few strokes before I’d feel him kick inside me, his release filling me as he held himself deep inside, his eyes demanding my own.
A cry rose from my chest, his name right after.
“Come for me, Hayden. Let me hear it,” he ordered.
I didn’t hold my cries back. I didn’t hold anything back as my orgasm surged through me. I wasn’t thinking about thin walls or anyone listening in. All I thought about was him. Giving me what I needed, exactly when I needed it.
Soren’s release tangled with mine, his groans of pleasure more subdued. For a few minutes after, there was only the sounds of our breaths. Hard and heavy at first, tapering into a more level balance.
“Suddenly, this long distance thing doesn’t seem so impossible.” Soren’s voice was low and hoarse, his chuckle the same.
My body was still buzzing from my orgasm as a wave of sleepiness came over me. Curling into my pillow, I pulled the blankets around me.
“Nothing’s impossible. Especially you and me.” As I closed my eyes, I realized I’d said that more to convince myself than to agree with him.
I missed him. Not just in yearning this time, but in actuality.
I’d physically missed him.
My damn flight home had arrived late, which had become the trend. What were these airlines doing in business if they couldn’t get an arrival time right, or even close to right, three times in a row?
My mood was beyond sour by the time I’d claimed my bag and flagged a cab outside of the airport that afternoon. If my flight had arrived on time, like, I don’t know, people planned on, that would have given Soren and me one hour and forty-five minutes together before he had to leap on the team bus to head to Pittsburgh for their games this weekend. Or was it Providence? I couldn’t remember.
One hour and forty-five minutes. It had been ten days since we’d seen each other, and it would be another eleven before we could see each other again. Yes, I was counting, and yes, that one hour and forty-five minutes was everything when we had nothing else.
The journey up those six flights of stairs seemed impossible. The only reason I’d flown back home for two days was so I could see Soren for barely two hours. Now I wasn’t going to see him. I should have just stayed in Paris and caught up on sleep. Or seen some of the sights everyone had been telling me to give a try. I’d spent weeks in Paris and had yet to see more than the inside of a hotel room, a cab, or the interior of some building I was either shooting in or walking inside of.
Eventually, I made it to the sixth floor. Eventually, I made myself unlock the door and move inside.
The apartment was quiet and empty, as I’d known it would be. The scent of his soap and shampoo lingered inside the bathroom, which made me want to lock myself in there and breathe it in until there was nothing left to breathe.
As I passed the kitchen, I noticed how tidy it was. The faucet was even shining, it was so spotless. When I rounded into the main part of the apartment, I didn’t notice how clean it was. All I saw were the flowers he’d left on the table for me. White daisies. He’d propped a little note beside it that read, You’re worth the wait.
My eyes burned as I reread it. We’d been together almost a month now and had shared only a couple days together. The rest had been filled with short phone calls and scattered texts.
The daisies were perfect. He’d recalled the time we’d walked by a flower vendor, and I talked about how undervalued daisies were. Simple, overlooked, considered cheap and passé by most, but they were hardy and steadfast, far outliving their floral rivals. A little water, and they could last forever.
I was just about to head to the kitchen for a vase when a knock thudded at the door. When I reached it, I checked the peephole as I could hear Soren instructing me to do if he’d been here.
I wasn’t expecting anyone, and I definitely wasn’t expecting this guest.
“Mrs. Decker,” I greeted as I pulled open the door. “You just missed him. He left a few hours ago.”