Page 35 of Turning Up the Heat

“I’m good. I just got out of the shower.” Tom felt a stirring in his dick, picturing her fresh from the shower.

“Oh, really? What are you wearing?”

She chuckled and he could almost see her roll her eyes at him. “You’re so clichéd. I’m wearing a towel,” she told him anyway.

“So, you’re all clean?” he asked her. “How would you like to get dirty again?”

“What are you proposing?”

“I’ve got about half an hour before dinner. Drop the towel.”

“Done,” she said, without hesitation, the echo in her voice told him that she’d put the phone on speaker.

He smiled. He looked at the closed door to his bedroom. “Close your eyes and cup your breasts. Pretend it’s my hands on you.”

She hummed with pleasure, and he could picture her lying on her bed, her hands on herself, cupping and pinching her nipples. His dick hardened in his pants. Dammit, why hadn’t she video called him? “How’s that feel?”

“Mmm...good. Not good enough, though.”

With one hand, he unsnapped the button on his jeans and lowered his zipper. He pressed his palm against his hard dick. “Why don’t you slide one of your hands down your stomach to your pussy?”

“Sounds like a good idea to me...” she said, her voice wistful. He heard her gasp, and his dick shifted.

He reached into his boxers, and found his hand was a poor substitute for the body of this woman, in another state, now lying in the middle of her bed, touching herself because he asked her to. There was moisture at the tip of him, and he rubbed it around the head, before smoothing his hand down and gripped his shaft hard. “Tell me what you’re doing,” he commanded, lust and need lowering his voice.

“I’m making little circles around my clit.” She moaned again. “I have a finger inside me. But it’s nothing compared to you.”

“Goddamn it, you’re fucking sexy,” he ground out, fisting his cock. “Christ!”

“Tom,” she gasped. “I’m going to come. I wish you were here with me.”

“Me, too, baby,” he said. “Me, too.” He worked his hand quickly. His stomach tightened, and his heart raced. “Gemma,” he whispered, trying to keep his voice down for anyone who might be in the hallway outside the room. Gemma cried out into the phone wedged against his ear, and he came. As his breathing calmed, he threw his head against the headboard. “Fuck, Gemma,” he said. “How am I going to go eat dinner with my family now? Talk me out of getting on a plane to Miami right this minute.”

She laughed. “I won’t tell you any such thing. I want you here right now.”

He stood and carefully walked to the attached bathroom. Thankfully he found some tissues and cleaned up as he talked to her. “You’ve got your family tonight, love.”

“Come anyway. If you get down here tomorrow morning, we’ll still have two days together. I’ll figure something out with my family. Don’t worry.” Jumping on a plane for yet another weekend in Miami was completely unnecessary. It wouldn’t kill him to stay away for one weekend, would it? “As a little extra incentive, you get down here tonight and we can have a little replay of what we just did. Except instead of your hand on your cock, it’ll be my mouth.”

He groaned and tossed the tissues in the wastebasket. “You’re killing me.”

“Good. Text later with your decision.”

He didn’t need to even think about it. He just had to get through dinner with his father and make a quick exit. But he wasn’t sure he’d be able to rouse their pilot or get a flight at such a late hour. “I’ll be there in the morning.”

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