"Jess? You're thinking too much. You know you want me. Need me."
"Want maybe. Need … no. And you know why?"
"Tell me."
She reached across to her bedside cabinet and picked up her vibrator. "Because I've got something much better, right next to me."
"You have?"
"Yeah, it's long and it's hard and it doesn't have a mouth so no chance it's going to say something that will piss me off."
"You like my mouth. You always liked what I did with my mouth."
"I don't remember."
"Come on over, and I'll remind you." His words made the heat pool in her belly and warm wetness soak her sex. Because she did remember. She'd never been able to get enough of his mouth on her. And he'd seemed the same. He'd spent hours tasting her, licking, devouring. She bit back a moan.
"You remembering yet?" he murmured down the phone. "I particularly recall how you used to love it when I-"
She clicked on the vibrator and held it close to the phone. It was quiet on the other end for a whole minute. Then she heard a deep sigh.
"Christ, I wish I was there. You got a camera on that phone?"
"Not a hope in hell."
"My dick is so fucking hard. Has been since you walked out on me this afternoon." His breathing was loud. "Tell me what you're doing, Jess? Tell me how you pleasure yourself. Are you wet? Touch yourself."
She swallowed. But holy shit this was hot. She imagined Declan in his hotel room, sprawled on a big bed. The phone in one hand … "You first."
"Sweetheart, my hand is around my cock. I wish it was you, but if I don't get off soon, I'll explode. Go on, talk to me … tell me what you're doing. Stroke your breasts."
She closed her eyes for a second, then took a deep breath. Jamming the phone in the crook between her neck and her shoulder, she slipped her free hand beneath her tank top and stroked her palm over the peak, imagined Declan's dark head there, kissing her, his lips tugging on the nipples. She pinched one between her thumb and her finger and moaned.
"You doing it, baby?"
"Oh yeah."
"Now lower. Touch yourself. Tell me how wet you are."
She stroked her hand over her belly, then down under the drawstring of her pants. Her whole body quivered in anticipation. It had never felt like this before. Her fingers slid through the folds, gliding across her drenched sex.
"Talk to me, baby."
"I'm wet."
"Wet enough to push that vibrator inside?"
She wriggled out of her pants, the vibrator buzzing in her hand. "It's sliding inside, Declan." She pressed the head against her opening and pushed it inside, the vibrations tingling through her body. "And it feels so damn good."
"My cock would feel better. I need to picture this-describe it to me."
"It's a rabbit, and the little ears are tickling me. Oh God." She closed her eyes and it was Declan's fingers between her legs, his cock deep inside her. She pulled the vibrator out and pushed back again, harder this time, then left it lodged inside, the pleasure building, a heavy weight in her belly, swelling and spreading outward.
"What's happening?" he asked.
"I'm going to come in about ten seconds."
"We'll come together."
An image of Declan, his fingers wrapped around his own cock, pumping into his fist, filled her mind. The sensations became too much, and she crashed over the edge, getting no relief as the vibrations continued, and she came again. She fumbled between her thighs, switched off the vibrator, and collapsed back on the pillows. She'd dropped the phone; it lay on the bed and she picked it up with a trembling hand. She licked her lips, swallowed, finally, managed to speak. "You still here?"
"Oh yeah. That was sexy, baby, but next time I want to be there."
"Never going to happen. Good night, Declan."
…
His father had once told him that everyone made mistakes. It was how you dealt with them that showed what you were made of. And what you learned from them. A man who made the same mistakes time and time again was …
Desperate.
Shit, he couldn't believe they had indulged in phone sex last night. God, he'd been turned on. Almost as turned on as having her up against the wall in his office, or feeling her come apart for him in that alley, her hot, slick muscles, clamping on his finger.
Jess had always been his one big mistake. He'd known from the moment he set eyes on her, in that tiny little scrap of a black dress, sitting at his father's table in the nightclub, that she was trouble. Big trouble. She'd been swilling champagne and fluttering her eyelashes at his goddamn father.
He'd put a stop to that.