Page 130 of Hot Streak

“Are you surprised?”

Jackson laughed, and somehow the laugh aroused Connor even more than grumbling, horny-but-denying-it Jackson. “No. No. God, you’re . . .you’re fucking incredible, you know that?”

“Because I want you to tell me how to touch my cock and make me come?” He was only holding back because he did want that, more than he wanted to just do it.

“Because you’re you,” Jackson said and his voice had gone deeper. Rougher. “Because you drive me crazy. Because I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you.”

Connor groaned. “Please,” he begged. His fingers dug into the comforter underneath him, wanting to hold back until Jackson told him exactly what to do.

“You want to come, baby?”

“Don’t make me wait,” Connor groaned.

“Impatient.” His voice was a caress now, like Jackson was actually here, his fingers stroking up and down his body. “Greedy, too.”

“You love it.”

“You know what I’d love more?”

Connor’s breath caught in his throat.

“You naked, all spread out for me. You like that now?”

He could barely speak, arousal choking him, but Jackson couldn’t hear him so he had to figure out how to use his words. He reached down, fingers catching on the waistband of his shorts, and he tugged them down, inhaling sharply as his cock bobbed out, hard as if Jackson had actually been here watching him. Touching him.

“Yes,” he croaked.

“That was quick. You were so eager you got naked before you even called me, didn’t you?”

“I wasn’t . . .” He cleared his throat. “I wasn’t wearing a shirt. I just had to take my shorts off.”

“You just woke up then, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Just thinkin’ about you, all rumpled and golden in the morning, makes me hard,” Jackson confessed. “Didn’t see you enough like that—not when you were . . .”

When you were mine.

Jackson didn’t need to say the words for Connor to feel them.

For them to burn him like a brand.

And he’d thought he was turned on before.

His cock twitched against his stomach and he wanted to it to be exactly like Jackson said—but he wanted it so badly he wasn’t sure he could resist any longer.

“Please,” he begged.

Jackson’s breath, loud over the phone, quickened even more.

“Touch your cock. Slowly. Don’t take too much, too fast.”

“But you’re—”

Jackson didn’t let him get the protest out. “Yeah, I’m nice and hard for you, too, and if you were here, you’d be eager to suck it down, wouldn’t you?”

Shame should have curled through him in a nauseating wave, but it didn’t. He only felt proud. If Jackson was here, he’d be on his knees, as eager as Jackson claimed.

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