Page 33 of Hot Mic, Cold Ice

“Keep going, Anatife,” I say, feeling my own release building. “Come for me, Ziggy. Let me hear you scream my name.”

Her cry of pleasure echoes through the phone, pushing me over the edge. I groan, hot cum spurting up onto my stomach, my body shuddering with the release.

After a few moments of heavy breathing, she speaks again. “Why do you always do this to me?”

“Because you let me,” I reply with a smirk tugging at my lips. “And because you love it.”

“Maybe,” she admits softly. “But it’s complicated.”

“Life’s complicated. We make it work,” I tell her, my tone softer. “Next time, you can call me after midnight, Ziggy.”

She chuckles. “Yeah, yeah. Goodnight, Elliot.”

“Goodnight, Anatife,” I say, hanging up with a satisfied smile.

The next night, it’s the same routine. A new hotel, a new city, but I still find myself thinking about her constantly. We have a pretty intense game coming up tomorrow, and I am already a little on edge about it. I need the comfort that only one annoying and bossy reporter can give me. I press her name on my phone right on time as the clock strikes midnight, and she answers my call quickly.

“You again?” she says, but there is no hiding the warmth in her voice.

“Missed you,” I put it simply. “Are you going to be a good girl and come for me on camera this time?”

She hesitates. “Elliot, I’m not sure...”

“Please, Zig. Let me watch you,” I plead, my voice taking on a desperate edge. “I need to see you.”

There is a pause, then she sighs. “Alright. But you better not record this.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I assure her, crossing my fingers over my chest for her to see, even if she can’t see it, my heart racing with anticipation.

The screen flickers to life, and there she is, her face flush with a beautiful mixture of annoyance and arousal. She sets her phone down, the angle perfect to capture her every move.

“Happy?” she asks, her fingers already moving to tease herself over her underwear. The woman is going to ruin me with her black lacy thong, lying there; I wish I could be there to rip it off of her.

“Very,” I say, my voice rough with desire. “Now, take those fingers and rub your clit until you come like a good girl.”

The sight of her, combined with her moans and the raw need in her eyes, is enough to drive me wild. Watching her get herself off on camera is hands down one of my top three favorite things to do.

“Ziggy,” I say huskily, leaving no room for argument.. “I want you to watch me this time.”

She falters before nodding. “Alright. Show me.”

I position my phone, letting her see every detail as I stroke my hard cock, her name falling from my lips as I bring myself to the edge. Her eyes widen, her breath coming faster as she watches.

“Are you going to be a good boy and come for me on camera?” she asks, her voice taking on a teasing tone. “Let me watch you.”

With a groan, I give in, my body trembling as I come. Her eyes stay locked on mine. It is the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had, and as I level out from the high, I feel a strange sense of satisfaction.

“You’re something else, Ziggy,” I say, my voice filled with admiration.

“Right back at you,” she replies, a soft smile on her lips. “But remember, this is just physical. No complications.”

“Agreed,” I promise her, though a part of me wonders how long we can keep pretending it is just that. For now, though, it will have to be enough.

As the days turn into weeks, our encounters became a secret ritual, a twisted form of connection that neither of us can fully explain. And every night, around midnight, I know I can call her, and she will be there, ready to fulfill my every desire.

Chapter 27

The merciless pace of my assignments is wearing me down, and the only thing that seems to keep me afloat is the thought of seeing Elliot again. But even that is starting to feel more complicated than it should. As I watch him from afar, his name popping up in headlines, his face plastered across social media, a gnawing insecurity begins to take root. I don't want to be in a position where I’m caught off guard by anyone, let alone Elliot St. Germain.

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