His eyes darken to that steely shade of blue I’m becoming familiar with. “Spread your legs for me. Touch yourself. I bet you’re drenched, aren’t you, you filthy fucking girl.”

Again, I nod, even before my hand slides into my panties. Arousal coats my fingers as I press lightly against my clit.

“How wet? Tell me. I want to taste you.”

I lick my lips. “Mm. Like this?” I suck my finger into my mouth, releasing it with a wet pop. “Too bad you aren’t here. I think I taste better off your tongue.”

Mason groans through a clenched jaw, his breathing growing louder, exploding into the air as his arm moves furiously against his side.

“Fuck, baby. Let me see. Show me. Put the phone between your legs. God, my dick is so fucking hard.”

With a gasp, I drop the phone against my shirt. “Shit! Sorry,” I apologize through a nervous giggle, waving at the screen. “I need to get undressed. I’m in panties. Hold on. I’m putting this down.”

Holy shit! This is exhilarating and nerve wracking and crazy and CRAZY. But fuck, there is nothing holding me back from giving him everything he’s asking for.

I want this. I want him. I’ve never felt this way about anyone.

I shimmy my panties down my legs and pick up my phone. Holding it above me, I watch Mason’s mouth twitch when I appear in the small square.

“Hey. Okay, I’m going to do it now.”

He nods, his chest heaving. “Good. Make me come.”

Good fucking God.

I prop myself up with two pillows behind my back. Bending my knees, I let my legs fall open and hold the phone between them.

“Fuck. Look at you. So good, baby.” His face appears larger on my screen. “Fuck,” he whispers. “Closer. Spread your legs more. I want to see everything.”

“Okay,” I softly reply, my voice breathy and thick as I open wider and slide the phone closer to my body. “Like that? Can you see? I’m so wet. I’m dripping. I don’t know if I’ve ever been this turned on before.”

Mason growls my name, “Brooke.”

He tells me how hot his dick feels in his hand. How sensitive it is. How he can’t stop thinking about my mouth and my tits and how tight I’ll feel around him when he finally takes me. He snarls like an animal when I slip a finger into my pussy, and then he tells me to fuck myself, to think about his cock and to beg for it.

“Please,” I gasp, writhing against my sheets, sliding further down the bed with my legs pulling higher and spreading wider.

“Look,” he orders through a strained voice, and I glance down my body at the phone in my hand and moan at the image on the screen.

His cock.

His long, thick cock, dripping at the head as he strokes it almost brutally.

I bring the phone closer to my face and slide my fingers over my clit, staring, gasping, telling him I’m close and to come and to show me what I do to him.

With a strangled cry, we fall, words and moans blending into the night. It’s hot and filthy, and so profoundly intimate, and again I find myself smiling and so strangely happy, and I wonder if what I’m feeling has anything to do with the climax pulling me apart.

My legs fall heavy against the bed and I lift the phone off my chest. A lazy smile fills the screen.

“Well?” I ask, lifting my hair off my neck and falling back onto the pillow. I laugh at the peculiar look Mason gives me. “Don’t you have something to ask me, now that I’m sated from orgasm and willing to agree to even the most ridiculous requests?”

He grins, perking up. “Right. This weekend . . . can I have you?”

I blow him a kiss and end the call. My phone buzzes almost immediately with a message.

Mason: I’ll take that as a yes.

MASON

The shrill sound of a phone ringing jolts me awake, dragging me out of one hell of a dream.

Brooke on her knees, her skilled hands cupping my balls as she laps at my cock.

I groan into the pillow.

God, I love dream Brooke. Who the fuck is calling me this early?

Lifting my head, I glance around the dark room.

The faintest amount of sunlight pushes across the floor by the window, breaking through the small gap in the curtain. Searching for my cell amongst the sheets I’m tangled in, I find the menacing thing halfway down the bed near my left calf.

Last night . . . shit, I don’t even remember hanging up after that spectacular conversation. Best solo session of my life. I will never look at that function on my phone the same again.

Facetiming my mum is now out of the question. Maybe I can convince her to Skype.

I accept the call and place it to my ear, letting my eyes fall closed again.

“You,” I mumble, picturing Brooke’s face against the backdrop of her lavender pillow. Her hair messy from sleep. “Morning, sweet girl.”

A breathy laugh pulls through the phone. “Oh, my God. You’re still in bed, aren’t you?”

“You wrecked me last night. I slept like the dead.” I peek an eye open and spot the clock on the wall. “My alarm doesn’t go off for another thirty minutes.”

“Really? Mm, that’s funny.”

A car horn sounds through the phone, followed by the distant noise of a busy street. Light chatter, heels striking the ground. Birds.

Is Brooke outside this early in the day?

“Is it?” I roll to the side and slide my arm beneath the pillow to build my head up. “My alarm set for ten to eight is funny to you?”