Page 22 of The Enforcer

Maybe...

I let the thought linger.

No. It was a risky idea, one that I didn't want to get into.

My cock twitched, as though it was arguing with me.

Maybe if I talked to Kenna, stroking myself without her knowing, it would help.

Of course, it completely went against everything I expected. I saw this road trip as space for myself, as time to collect my thoughts and get Kenna out of my system. I didn't see it as a way for us to strengthen our bond together, to bridge us closer. That was the last thing we should be doing. Getting closer could not be an option.

And yet, I already had a towel wrapped around my waist, exiting the small bathroom so I could grab my phone that was charging from the desk. I glanced at it only to find there was no text from her, no missed calls. I was disappointed, but didn't know why. Why would she risk calling me now that her father was home?

Why was I going to risk calling her?

I removed my towel as I slid between the sheets, but kept it close because I knew I would need it for afterward. Before I could talk myself out of it, I pressed her name in my phone book and called her. It rang twice before her familiar voice answered.

"Hello?"

I released a breath I hadn't realized I’d been holding. "H-hey." I hated the fact that I stuttered but I wasn't sure what else I could do. I had never done this before. Typically, I'd be out with the rest of the boys at a nearby sports bar. If I wanted pussy, I would get pussy. I wasn't calling someone back home so I could get myself off manually.

"Hey." A pause. It was almost like she couldn't believe I was calling. I couldn't blame her for her surprise. Fuck, I had no idea what the hell I was doing. Everything inside of me was still screaming to hang up the goddamn phone, and yet, I couldn't bring myself to actually do it. "You get there all right?"

"Yeah." My voice came out low and gruff. I had no idea why I was whispering when I didn't have to worry about someone overhearing me. I could speak as loud as I wanted. No one on the team knew who Kenna was. "I had to hear your voice."

Another pause. "I miss you," she admitted. I heard a squeak and the gentle shutting of her door. She was in her room. Good. I needed to know that she was alone.

"Yeah," I asked. "What are you wearing?"

What the fuck was I doing? Was I one of those cheesy assholes who was obsessed with sex? Not typically. I enjoyed it, definitely, but fuck, it was all Kenna. I wasn't obsessed with sex, I was obsessed with her.

"Let me take a picture and show you."

It delivered seconds later.

Her face wasn't in the picture. It was from her neck to her waist, a complete shot of her naked body, her breasts, her stomach, her hip bones.

Fuck.

My dick got harder. I could feel the moisture against my boxer briefs from precum.

"What are you doing right now?" I asked. I barely recognized my own voice. It was tight with tension, rough with desire. I needed to hear her.

"What do you want me to do right now?" she asked.

Fuck.

Why was she so goddamn good at this?

I pulled down my boxers and grabbed my cock.

"You don't fucking know what you do to me, little girl," I said.

"Take a picture and show me," she told me.

I listened, like I was her bitch. I'd do anything she told me. Maybe I was. Maybe she had me whipped and we weren't even a fucking couple. What the fuck did that even mean?

When she got it, she moaned. "Is that for me?"

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