Page 37 of Hat Trick

It’s all of her: her painted toenails, her trim ankles, her slim thighs, her hand cupping between her thighs, a narrow waist, and heavy breasts. Her red hair hangs loose, untucked this time around, framing her face and dragging my attention up to her nervousexpression.

“We don’t have to do this.” I’ll die from blue balls if we don’t, but I’m not down for this unless we both want it. “Change the camera around, honey. Let me see your face. It was a stupid idea. We’ll forget about it, allright?”

“Tell me what todo.”

My cock twitches at the softly issuedcommand.

“You sure aboutthis?”

“I want you, Marshall.” Her legs spread wide and my mouth goes dry. “Now tell me what todo.”

There’s a good chance I’ll die today. Forget the blue balls—I’ll be gone long before that happens. Holy hell, I needwater.

No, I just needher.

“Tuck your hair behind yourears.”

She laughs, a touch awkwardly. “That’s where you want tostart?”

“I want to make sure I can see your beautiful face the entire time. Humorme.”

Holding the phone with one hand, she does as I ask with the other. She bites her lower lip, teasing me from hundreds of miles away. “Next?”

Did I ever think her nervous? Clearly, I’m the only one with a rock in my throat that I can’t swallow down, no matter how hard Itry.

I draw in a deep breath. “I want to know how heavy your tits are, honey. Yeah, cover them just like that. Tweak your nipple for me, yeah, that’s a goodgirl. . .”

With her hand on her breast, her core is leftunshielded.

And I want. I want so bad that I’m almost unaware of my hand gripping the base of my cock until I’m slowly pumping up and down, twisting my palm at the head, hard, just the way I likeit.

“You’re . . . bigger than Iexpected.”

My gaze flits from her fingers to her face in the small screen. “What’d youexpect?”

The corner of her mouth lifts. “A pretty cock,” she whispers, licking her lips, “to match your prettyface.”

If I were there with her now, I’d have her flat on her back for that comment. “You know how I feel about being calledpretty.”

With one last squeeze of her breast, Gwen slips her hand down her stomach and then skirts to the side, landing on her inner thigh and taking my heart right along with her. “What are you going to do about it?” It’s a blatant taunt. “You’re so very far away,Marshall.”

Forthatcomment, I’d have her on her back and my tongue driving into the very center ofher.

Since that’s not an option . . . “Touch your clit, Gwen.Now.”

She flutters her lashes. “Is that your punishment? Making me feelgood?”

Christ, she’s feisty when she’shorny.

I loveit.

“You should be thankful I don’t actually have any chains in my basement foryou.”

She throws me off course with her next question: “How badly do you want me to touchmyself?”

“Bad.”

“Bad enough that you’ll throw out your rule about no kissing? We can skip everything else when you get back, Marshall, but I want my first kiss from you. I want to stop fantasizing about all the different ways you might taste and finally know for myself. I want that connection withyou.”

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