“You want me to describe my breasts?”

“Yes.” Absolutely certain. No hesitation. “Do it, baby.”

She thought back to what she saw when she looked in the mirror after a shower. “They’re round and the nipples tilt up, not straight out.”

“More.”

What more could she say? “They’re breasts, Ethan. I don’t have any distinguishing marks. No freckles, or anything.”

“What color are your nipples?”

“Uh…brownish pink. They’re dark.”

“Are they that color right now?”

“I don’t know. I don’t have a light on.”

“You’re lying in the dark, talking to me on the phone and touching yourself?”

“Yes.”

“I like knowing that.”

“Do you have a light on?”

“No. I want to picture you, nothing else.”

“Oh.” Wow.

“Do they turn red when you get excited?”

“My nipples?”

“Yes.”

She tried to think back to a time when she might have noticed and remembered something Alan had said once when they were making love. Something about how he knew she was getting close because her nipples were red like ripe raspberries. “Yes, they turn red like ripe berries.”

“I bet they taste just as sweet.”

“You’re going to find out…tomorrow night.” It was the first sexual promise she’d ever made.

Even when she’d been with Alan, she’d kept so much of her sensuality locked up. She’d been afraid to let him know her deepest desires and that somehow if she expressed too much of her desire, they would come popping out. With Ethan, she didn’t care. Maybe because he’d played a starring role in those fantasies for so long.

And he already knew about the handcuffs.

“I can’t wait, baby.”

“You have to.”

He laughed, the sound harsh. “You like to tease, don’t you?”

“I think I do.”

“I know it.”

“I’m teasing myself right now.” The way she was stimulating her breasts and nipples was increasing her excitement to the point where she could barely breathe. She needed more.

“Good. Are your nipples hard?”

“Very.”

“And swollen?”

She rolled them between her thumbs and forefingers. Definitely engorged. “Yesss…”

“Do they hurt?”

“Do you want them to?”

“Only in a good way.”

“What good way?”

“I want you to be in pain for my touch.”

“I am.”

“Damn…Beth…you slay me.” His words came out between gasping breaths.

She wasn’t the only one who needed more.

“Would your breasts fill my hands?”

“I don’t think so…I’m only a C cup.”

“And I have long fingers.”

“Yes.” Fingers she couldn’t wait to have on her body.

“I can’t wait to play…” His words trailed off in a masculine groan. “Don’t stop, baby. Tell me what else you’re doing. What you like.”

She squeezed her thighs together and released in an instinctive rhythm that increased her desire, but could not sate it. “I’m kneading them…kind of hard now. I like it gentle at first and hard later.”

The only sound on the other end of the line was his heavy breathing. It excited her to think she was affecting him so strongly.

“I’m brushing circles around my nipples now, but I’m not touching myself there anymore. I’m teasing myself, but I want it…” She moaned as she allowed one fingertip to brush across a turgid nipple. “They’re hard and achy…they’ve been that way all night because of you.”

“You’re killing me.” He sounded tortured all right.

It was one of her favorite fantasies.

She smiled. “I’m pinching my nipples now. Hard. And playing with them…it feels so good. I wish you were here to suck on them. I’d want you to use your teeth.”

“Not at first,” he said in a charged voice. “At first you’d want that gentle, too, but the more excited you got the more you’d want me to do it hard and with my teeth.”

“Yessss,” she hissed again.

“Put one hand between your legs, baby. Touch your labia and your clitoris. Feel the silky wetness I’m craving right now.”

“Are you sure you want me to?”

“Yes. Do it, Beth. I’m not going to last and I want to come together.”

“You’re a bossy lover.”

“I can be.”

“So can I.” At least she wanted to. “Squeeze the base of your penis.”

“It’s not going to help.”

“Do it anyway.”

He growled. “Fine. I’m squeezing. Now, what about you? Are you touching yourself like I told you to?”

She slid her hand down her stomach until her middle finger slipped between the slippery folds of her labia. It was hot and wetter than she could ever remember being. “Yes.”

“Tell me what it feels like.”

She circled her clitoris, then rubbed lightly and moaned. “It’s so soft…like satin, but hot and very wet. My lips are swollen…my clit feels hard, but it’s not big.”

She’d read about women who protruded, but she wasn’t one of them…even at her most excited.

“You’re delicate.”

“If you say so.” She could barely think. Couldn’t really make sense of words at the moment. She was so close.

“Can you make yourself come without putting a finger inside?”

“Yes…but…”

“I want you to do that…I want you to feel empty and waiting for me to fill you up tomorrow night.”

“Oh…Ethan…I want that, too.”

“Good.”

She found a rhythm she liked with her fingers. It was hard not to dip lower, but she loved that he’d told her not to. It added an edge to everything…made it more real, as if he were there with her.

The only sound in the room was that of their combined breathing until she gasped, “Ethan…I’m going to…”

“Come for me, baby. Come now.”

And she did, crying out his name and listening to his groan of release over the phone close to her ear on the pillow. He said her name softly, almost reverently, then moaned again…and then nothing. Just breathing and silence.

She didn’t know how long they were like that, but finally he asked, “Are you there?”

“Yes.” The word was slurred.

“You tired, baby?”

“Um…mmm…”

“Turn off the phone and go to sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Good night, Ethan.”

“Good night, Sunshine.”

She pressed the button on the phone to turn it off and then turned on her side, curling into her usual sleeping position without worrying about putting it back on the cradle.

Chapter 7

Something was digging into Beth’s side when the alarm woke her. She sat up, feeling strangely good, a smile of forgotten, but delicious dreams playing at the corners of her lips. She rubbed the sore spot on her side absently and then felt around the slick surface of her sheets, searching for the culprit.

Her hand closed over the cordless phone.

And everything came flooding back. Her sense of well-being vanished to be replaced with horror.

She’d had phone sex. With Ethan Crane. She grabbed the sheet to her chin as if he were going to walk into the room from the bathroom at any second. Which he couldn’t, of course. He was home…in his own bed. Or his shower.

The image of that perfect body showering was enough to make the still sensitive flesh between her legs throb. This was ridiculous. Totally out of hand. She reacted to him and thoughts of him like he was a walking aphrodisiac, but he was just a man.

A man who had managed to talk her through the most amazing orgasm of her life. Had it been as good for him? Phone sex. She still could not quite grasp that she’d done that with Ethan. Nice women didn’t do that kind of thing, did they? But then she’d long since decided her sexual fantasies were anything but nice. Which was one reason it was so much safer to dream than to do.

So, why hadn’t she thought of that last night when she was flashing him? She couldn’t even use the excuse she’d been tipsy, because she hadn’t. She didn’t need alcohol to be so affected by Ethan that her finely honed inhibitions went flying to parts unknown. She only needed him…or thoughts of him.