“No, baby. That’s not all.”
“Tell me,” I state boldly.
“Where’s Karina?” he asks.
“Out with some of the girls from the team.”
“You didn’t want to go?”
“No. I wanted to come home and think about you. Where’s Oliver?”
“He went to the beach with Sam and Daniel.”
“You didn’t want to go?”
“I told them I might meet them later. I wanted to come home and call you.”
“You could have called me from the beach to say hello. You weren’t even sure you would get ahold of me.”
“Yeah, well, sometimes a guy just needs some time away from his roommate to do stuff.”
“He’s your best friend. What kind of stuff?” I ask.
“Guy stuff.”
“Griffin.”
“Fine.” He sighs. “I’m missing the hell out of you, Peyton, and sometimes, well, a lot of times, I pull up the memory of you, of us, and take matters into my own hands.”
“Tell me.”
He groans. “It doesn’t take much. Remembering the softness of your skin or the feel of your tongue stroking against mine.”
“Are you… doing it now?” I swallow hard, and I’m sure he can hear me. It’s more of a gulp as I process what’s happening here.
“No.”
“But you want to?”
“Yes.”
“Are you hard for me?” I slap my hand over my mouth. I can’t believe I just asked him that.
“God, yes,” he moans.
“Hang up. I’m going to call you right back.”
“What?” he chokes out. It’s obvious that he’s confused, but my brain is too jumbled to explain it to him.
“I promise. I’ll call you right back.” My voice doesn’t sound like my own.
“Okay.” The line goes dead, and I jump out of bed, grab my laptop from my desk, and lock my bedroom door for good measure. I pull up the video call and hit send. My hands are shaking, and my breathing kicks up a notch or three as I realize what I’m about to do. This is so unlike me. But maybe this is me with Griffin. What I feel for him, the way I miss him, and that trust that I have in him allows me to be free. Apparently, being free is phone sex or video-chat sex. Hell, I’m not sure what to call it, but it’s about to go down.
“Hey,” he greets huskily.
“Show me,” I blurt out before I lose my nerve.
“What?” He chokes out a laugh.
“Please?” Maybe being demanding doesn’t turn him on?
“Baby,” he breathes. “You know I can’t say no to you.”
“Good.” I smile. That’s exactly what I was hoping for.
“But if I show you, you have to show me too.” He gives me a pointed look, and I realize I didn’t think this through. I just wanted to see him.
“I… uh…” I stumble over my words, and he chuckles.
“Do you touch yourself, Peyton? When you think of me?”
All the time. “Sometimes.” There is no use in denying it. I can tell from the look in his eyes that he can see right through me.
“Show me.” His voice is gravelly.
“I thought I was running this show?” I ask, my face flushed.
“Nah, we’re in this together, remember?”
“That’s what we said.” The words are flippant, but the way my heart thunders in my chest at his sweet reminder isn’t. We’re in this together.
“Peyton?”
“Yeah?”
“Get naked.”
“I…” I start to talk my way out of it but realize I don’t want to. If I can’t be with him, this is the next best thing. “Okay.” Moving my laptop to the side, I climb out of bed. I’d already changed into a pair of sleep shorts and a T-shirt knowing that I was in for the day.
“I want to watch you,” his gruff voice demands. “Turn the camera so I can see you.”
Doing as he asks, I turn my laptop to face me. He can’t see all of me, but when I remove my shirt and unclasp my bra, he sucks in a breath.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”
“Griff?” My voice trembles, but it’s not from nerves; it’s more the excitement of what we’re about to do.
“Yeah, baby?”
“Get naked.” His boisterous laughter fills the room as I slide my shorts and panties over my thighs and down my legs. “And let me see you.”
“So bossy,” he quips.
“We’re in this together.” I toss his words back at him. My confidence grows with each second that passes. He wants this as much as I do.
He turns his screen so I can see. His T-shirt is the first to go, and his six-pack abs appear on the screen. His shorts hang loose on his hips, and the V that women go crazy for makes an appearance. His shorts go next, and I watch in fascination as he grips his cock and strokes it. He’s rougher than I would have been, and I make a mental note for the next time we’re together.
“Peyton.” His voice is strained. “Touch yourself.”
“Where?” Again, my voice doesn’t sound like my own. It’s all breathy and sensual, and so not like me.
He moans. “Your tits. Pretend it’s me.”
“Is that what you’re doing? Pretending it’s my hand that’s stroking your cock?” Who am I? I’ve never talked like this in my life.
“Fuck yes,” he says, his hand moving a little faster. “Pinch your nipples.” I do as he says. “Damn,” he mumbles.
“I don’t know how to do this.” The confession rolls off my tongue easily. This is my Griffin, so I can be honest with him.
“This is a first for me too. We just do what feels right?”
“Yeah,” I agree, tweaking my nipple.
“Do you have a vibrator?”
“Y-Yes.”
“Use it… or your fingers. I don’t care. Just touch yourself. I need to see you.”
Reaching into the nightstand, I pull out my hot-pink vibrator and climb on the bed. Instead of using it right away, I let my hands travel south, and when I reach the apex of my thighs, I stroke my clit.
“Have you used it? Since we got together?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think about me?” he asks, his voice thick.
“Yes.”
“Move the camera,” he tells me. “I want to watch you.”
I adjust my computer, and he sucks in a breath. “Fuck, I could come just like this. Just watching you.”
“I want to see you.”
He adjusts his screen as well, and my breath hitches when I see that he’s now lying on the bed, and his hard length is wrapped up in his tight fist. He’s not stroking himself, just holding his cock.
“Does it hurt?”
“To be away from you? Yes.”
“No, I mean… your grip is so tight.”
“I’m trying not to come.”
“But isn’t that the point?”
“You first, beautiful. You’re always first.”
“Together,” I suggest.