I can hear her smile through every word she says, and that makes my face split in half with my own grin. “Thinking about fucking you,” I confess. “I can’t stop thinking about it, actually. I’m hiding in the back of my shop because my dick won’t soften.”
“I don’t think your dick knows how to be soft.” She laughs. “I’ve certainly never seen it flaccid.”
And she never will. My blood pumps too hot and strong for her.
“Have you touched yourself yet?” I wait with bated breath for her answer. Will she think I’ll be mad if she says yes? I won’t. Fuck that, I never will be.
“No,” she says after a few beats, but her tone is a little deflated.
“Do it.”
“I’m covered in paint.”
“Even better. Do it. Right now, on the phone with me.”
She makes a beautiful little groan that I want to eat up. “Okay. Let me make sure the door’s locked.”
“Good girl.”
She makes another little moan.
“You’re noisy today.” And I love it.
“You get me too worked up, Sean. It’s your fault.”
There she goes, saying my name again, and I have to readjust myself. Again. I look over at the door to make sure it’s still shut. There’s no lock on it, which is what has me on edge. “You need to keep your door locked, always, Ara. Even when you’re not working yourself up.”
“Okay,” she says without missing a beat.
I don’t want to be a controlling asshole here, but I’m not about to let Ara be so lost in her painting that she can’t hear a fucking intruder, either. All because it hasn’t happened yet doesn’t mean it won’t happen. The risk makes my body tense with the need to be there as her guard dog.
“I usually keep it locked,” she says. “I just didn’t today in case.”
“In case what?”
She’s quiet for a few seconds. “In case you popped in.”
Fuck. Me. “Take your clothes off.”
“Glitch?”
“Hmm?”
“Can… can you maybe call me a slut?”
I slam my hand on the workbench to keep from falling over. “Yeah, I can do that.”
She’s too much of a praise kitten to be degraded, but I’m willing to toe the line and see which way she likes it best. “Be my good little slut and pinch your nipples.”
I hear her suck in a tiny breath.
“I want my teeth on you. Mark you up. Bite and suck your tits.”
She makes more noises that drive me wild.
“That’s it, my pretty little slut. You want to keep touching yourself?”
“Mmm hmm.”
“Go ahead, Ara. Put the phone between your thighs and let me hear how wet you are.”
A few seconds later, delicious noises fill my ear. Holy shit, she’s soaked. And I’m hard as steel and miles away.
“Ara.” Can she even hear me?
“Y-yes?”
I must be on speaker. “What are you thinking about, dirty girl?”
“You,” she groans. “Fucking my face.”
“Mmmm… you like it when I pump my cock in that pretty mouth? My dirty little slut likes my cum.”
“God, yes.”
She comes so fast I don’t even get a chance to say all the things I had planned. That’s okay. There will definitely be other opportunities.
I hear a bunch of shuffling and then her giggle is louder in my ear, which means she’s taken me off speaker phone. “Well, that might be a record for me.”
I’m already out the door and heading to my car. I want her. Now.
“Glitch?”
“See you in twenty.” I jerk my car door open and drop in. “Be ready, Kitty.”
???
I’m to her in twelve minutes because I break every traffic law. Pulling up to her studio, I take the steps two at a time and notice there’s a lot of noise going on. Different music, voices, the dogs.
Don’t artists need peace to work? Isn’t all this ruckus distracting?
What do I know? I’m just a computer geek who thrives in chaos.
I climb my way to Ara’s door and jiggle the handle. It’s locked. “Ara?” I knock.
No answer.
I bang louder. “Ara?”
I press my ear to the door, my heart pounding. Why isn’t she answering? “ARA!” I slam my fists on the door, ready to rip it off its hinges.
She moans. It’s faint, but I fucking hear it. I call her phone. She picks up on the first ring. “Are you already here?”