Page 66 of Chaos at Westbrook High

“Sending you a picture,” he says. “Look at it.”

I pull the phone away from my ear to look. His face isn’t in the picture, just his lower half. I can see the shape of his dick through his gray sweatpants, his long, tattooed fingers wrapped around the thick base of it. There’s a small wet spot where the head touches the fabric, and I almost moan when I realize he’s probably not wearing underwear.

“Jesus.”

“Your turn. Put me on speaker so I can hear you.”

I don’t know what possesses me to do as he says, but I do it all the same. Kicking the blanket out of the way, I pull up the camera app on my phone, angling it down toward my spread legs. Sliding my hand beneath my thong, I roll my hips up and rub my clit. I know it’s a bad idea, but I can’t resist the chance to fuck with him like he fucks with me.

I take the picture, scan it once, and quickly send it before I lose my nerve.

“Fuck.” His voice is different now, breathy and strained. “Are you wet for me?”

For me.

“Yes.”

He groans, and I’m thankful he can’t see the grin on my face as I keep rubbing.

“God, baby, the things I wanna do to you.”

“Tell me again,” I demand, then freeze.

The sudden silence stretching between us is deafening. I shouldn’t have said that. It’s too late to take it back now though.

“Put your phone next to your head so you can use both hands,” he says, and I do it. “Is Derek home?”

“No,” I answer, cringing at the mention of my brother. “Can you not?—”

“Keep your legs spread and push your knees up to your ribs,” he orders, distracting me.

Again, I obey, getting myself into position exactly like he told me to.

“I’d pin you just like that so I can see every inch of your pussy and ass.”

I stifle a moan. “My ass?”

“I’d play with that too,” he tells me. “You’d love it.”

“I don’t think so,” I mutter, making him laugh.

“We’ll see. Rub your clit with your middle finger and pretend it’s my tongue. Do it slowly.”

“God, Kai.”

He chokes out a curse when I say his name, and it makes me braver, knowing he’s as worked up as I am.

Doing what he wants, I close my eyes and picture him between my legs, looking up at me as he runs his hands over my hips and thighs.

“Pull that little thong to the side with your other hand,” he says, and I hook my fingers beneath the fabric, moving it out of the way. “Did you do it?”

“Yeah.”

“Good girl,” he breathes out, and I bite down on my bottom lip, imagining him closing his eyes and tipping his head back as he jerks himself off. “Put your fingers in your mouth. Get them wet and slowly push one inside you. Don’t move it in and out yet. Just hold it there while I eat your pussy.”

Fuck. Fuck.

When he talks like that, it's so easy to pretend it’s his finger inside me and his tongue on my clit, making my toes curl into the sheets. “Kai.”

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