Olivia Cunning - Tell Me

Melanie stepped back from the phone so that he could see her. Her tight, gray skirt was bunched up around her hips, and an illegally sexy pair of black lace panties hid her sex. Did all businesswomen wear that kind of underwear under their office attire? If so, he was going to start hanging around water coolers.

When she pushed her glasses up her nose and nibbled her lower lip, his cock jerked with excitement.

“Fuck me,” he said under his breath.

He hadn’t known she’d worn glasses the night they’d met, and if men didn’t make passes at girls with glasses, then he had a gender identity crisis going on.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” she said with a naughty grin, her voice echoing slightly off the bathroom walls. Did her colleagues have any idea what kind of sexpot lurked behind her conservative facade? They’d better not. She was all his.

“Are you hard for me?” she asked. “Tell me, Gabe.”

“I’m always hard for you, baby. I belong inside you. Balls-deep inside you.”

“Show me.”

He reached for his fly and tilted the phone down, watching his screen to make sure she had a good view as he unfastened the buttons of his jeans one by one. He slid a hand down into his underwear and freed his throbbing erection from its confines, shuddering in bliss as his hand skimmed his cock’s sensitive surface.

“I swear it gets bigger every time I see it.” Melanie’s comment drifted up from the phone.

“It gets more desperate for you every time you see it.” He drew his phone closer to his face so he could see what she was doing on her end more clearly. He needed a bigger screen, he decided. No. He needed her here. Live in the flesh.

“This is where I want it, Gabe,” she said. He didn’t catch much of what she was doing as she moved but after a moment of holding his breath in anticipation, he released it in an excited whoosh as her pussy was displayed on screen, her fingers spreading her lips so he could see her intimately. So intimately. Her finger probed her opening, and she said, “In here. I want you here. Your fingers, your tongue, your cock. Right here.”

“Yes,” he said breathlessly. “That’s exactly where I want to be.”

He imagined himself buried inside her as he began to stroke himself. His hand was a poor substitution for her soft, silky heat, but it would have to do. He could hear her timid moans as her fingers slipped in and out of her pussy. He knew she’d have been louder if she’d been at home. She really put on a show for him late at night when he was alone in his bunk and she was in her bedroom. The first time he’d talked her into having phone sex, she’d been a little hesitant, but now she completely got off on it. And it made him crazy for her. Fuck, everything the woman did made him crazy.

His ass clenching rhythmically, Gabe pumped his hips as he thrust into his hand. He could almost feel her body against his, her pussy gripping his cock as he imagined fucking her against the bathroom wall. On the screen, her fingers moved to her clit, and she was soon trying to stifle her cries of release as she came for him. He scowled when she dropped her phone with a loud clatter and he could see nothing but blackness and hear nothing but her faint ragged gasps for breath.

He paused, waiting for her to return to him. After a long moment, her face appeared on the screen. Her glasses had slipped down the bridge of her nose. Her eyes were glassy, her cheeks were flushed, and her lips looked swollen, as if begging for kisses. His kisses.

“Sorry,” she said. “I don’t know why doing this at work turns me on so much.”

He grinned at her. “I do. You’re naughty, Melanie Anderson.”

She chuckled softly. “I was a good girl until I met you.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

She shook her head, sending a few escaped curls dancing around her shoulders. “It’s a very, very good thing. Now come for me, Gabriel Banner, before I have to go back to my desk and pretend I care about numbers when I’d rather be stuffed with your cock.”

He smiled at her. “I love it when you talk dirty.”

“Soon I’ll be whispering those things into your ear. Soon I’ll be able to feel you inside me again. Your hard body against mine. Your breath against my skin.”

“Yes,” he groaned. “God, baby, do you think about me as much as I think about you?”

“Do you think of me constantly?”

“Yeah,” he admitted. “Every waking moment. Hell, you’re even in my dreams.”

“Then yes, I think about you just as much. I want to watch you come now, Gabe. Show me.”

He grinned at his good fortune. He was one lucky son of a bitch for finding a woman like her. He loved turning her into a naughty girl. It had been a goal of his. And... mission accomplished.

Gabe set his phone on the counter so he could take his cock in both hands. Knowing she needed to get back to work, he tried to hurry for her. Because she was watching and making little noises of appreciation and offering soft words of encouragement, it didn’t take him long to erupt. He caught his load in his hand, holding his palm at a distance so she could watch his fluids jet from his body. She’d told him that watching it come out made her cunny quake, and he was all about giving that sweet pussy an added thrill.

He took a moment to recover his breath and then lifted his phone from the counter, holding it between his jaw and shoulder as he washed his hands in the sink.

“I’m going to be inside you the next time I come, Mel,” he said, drying his hands on a hand towel and then closing his fly.

“God, yes. I want that too. I don’t know if I can wait until tomorrow night to see you again,” she said.

“Good.” He smiled crookedly. “Get on a plane and meet me in New Orleans tonight.”

She paused for a long moment and he wondered if maybe she didn’t want to see him as badly as she claimed. Maybe her insatiable need for him was all an act. Maybe reality would be a whole lot different from the games they played on screens.

“But you said you didn’t want me at your shows,” she said quietly.

He could tell by the tone of her voice that his words had hurt her.

God, I’m an ass.

“I’m a liar, Melanie. A cowardly fucking liar. I do want you at my show and I need you in my bed as soon as possible.” He just hoped her needs matched his own.

Melanie dashed up the two flights of stairs that led to her third floor apartment. She unlocked the door and was kicking off her shoes before she’d even closed the door behind her.

Her new roommate, Nikki, looked up from the screen of her laptop and smiled a warm greeting.

“You’re home early. Did you get fired or something?”

Melanie shook her head and rushed toward her bedroom. Was she really going to drop everything just so she could see Gabe a day earlier than planned? Hell yeah, she was. Why was she even questioning herself? It wasn’t as if she got much done other than thinking about him anyway. She had never been so consumed by a man. Never. And she hadn’t even known Gabe long. How had he managed to work himself so deep under her skin so quickly? Damn, she had it bad for the guy. It should have served as a warning to slow down, but instead her need had her speeding up, wheels skidding as she drifted around corners and careened through barriers to chase him. Her emotional brakes were malfunctioning, but she had no desire to have them repaired.

Nikki appeared in Melanie’s closet doorway as Melanie yanked a suitcase from the top shelf and was instantly buried in an avalanche of extra pillows and linens. She kicked them aside impatiently, not bothering to pick them up. Leaving a mess would have normally driven her nuts, but she was in a hurry.

“What’s wrong?” Nikki asked. She backed up as Melanie barreled out of the small walk-in closet. It was more of a stand-in closet—not much room for walking. “Melanie?”

Melanie heard the panic in Nikki’s voice, not that she was surprised. Nikki tended to overreact to everything.

“I have to hurry if I want to catch my flight,” Melanie said.

“Oh God,” Nikki said, and Melanie found herself and her suitcase crushed in Nikki’s embrace. “Who died? Was it your grandmother? Oh, Mel, you must be heartbroken. Go ahead and cry, honey. You’ll feel better if you let it all out.”

“No one died, hon,” Melanie said. “I’m going to New Orleans.”

“But I thought you were leaving for Austin to see Gabe tomorrow night.”

“Plans changed. You can stop hugging me now. I’m in a rush.”

Nikki released her, and Melanie tossed her suitcase on the blue coverlet at the foot of her bed. She unzipped the case before rushing to her dresser for underclothes. Thinking she had all night and tomorrow morning to pack, she hadn’t planned what she was taking for her weekend with Gabe, so now she just started flinging various colors of panties and bras into her suitcase, hoping to sort it all out when she got there. Or maybe she wouldn’t need underwear the entire weekend. She’d be okay with that too. She added her new lingerie, still in the bag, just in case.

“Did Gabe dump you?” Nikki asked. “I will skin that lanky drummer alive if he did. I can’t believe he’d get your hopes up like that—make you think you meant more to him than a cheap one-night stand—and then at the last minute cancel on you.”

Melanie shook her head at Nikki again, dragging summer clothes from a drawer. “Why do you always think the worst?” she asked, even though she knew why Nikki expected The Worst. The Worst had been following Nikki around all her life and she had a hard time functioning when it wasn’t kicking down her door. “I’m going to see Gabe in New Orleans. He has a show tonight, and he invited me to come. I just hope I can get there in time. The flight I’m on will be cutting it close.”