Page 92 of The Perfect Love

“Take a guess,” I pant.

He curses under his breath. “How long have you been doing that?”

“Since you left.” I moan again, so tantalizingly close.

“Are you using your fingers or a toy?”

I look down at the vibrator I’m swirling around my clit and my fingers, still moving in and out of my pussy. “Both.”

“Are you close?”

My breath trembles. “So close. I want you to hear it. I want you to know”—I stop holding back and moan loudly—“I want you to know when I come, I’m thinking of you. I’m thinking of the look on your face and the noises you made, and the way you pulsed under me.” My toes curl into the sheets as I cry out. “Trev. I’m so close.”

“Keep going, baby. Work your sweet clit until you shatter.”

Fuck, I can’t wait until we can talk like that in the same room. Getting ourselves off or each other.

“Trevor. Ohh…”

“That’s it, baby. You’re doing so good. Let me hear you come.”

The vibrator hits the perfect spot as his words ring in my ear and an earth-shattering, unholy orgasm rips through me. My ass flies off the sheets as every muscle contracts. I don’t know if I’m moaning or screaming or making any coherent words, I only know it feels so damn good, and he’s listening to every second, and that turns me on more, making it last even longer.

“Trev…” I pant as I finally start sliding down from that high.

My heartbeat is pounding in my ears, but his smooth, sultry voice cuts through it all.

“So good, baby. Perfect.”

“Mhm.” I pull my fingers out and look down at them, wondering if he’d lick them off if he were here. I’m definitely inching toward wanting more. Or leaping. And after this…? “Thanks for listening,” I say playfully.

“I will listen tothatanytime.”

I almost ask,and what about watching?But I think I know the answer to that, and I trust that we’ll get there when the time is right. For now, this unlocks a whole new way to play together.

“I’ll keep that in mind. See you tomorrow?”

“I’ll meet you after your 10:00 a.m. class.”

“Perfect. Goodnight, birthday boy.”

“Night, Chels. Sleep well.”

I hang up, then stumble around on my shaky legs, barely managing to clean myself and my toys before collapsing back into bed and drifting off into absolute bliss.

Trevor

Twenty-one.

For some people, this is the birthday of drunken shenanigans and getting so shit-faced you don’t actually remember anything about your birthday.

That’s never been me. Maybe in another life it could have been, but being thoughtful and responsible was ingrained in me from a young age. Not just with my parents’ expectations, but with the examples they set for me. Dicking around and goofing off with my friends is all well and good, but I’ve never been the type to get blackout drunk or even much past tipsy.

Maybe it’s because I like to be in control—keep the people I care about safe—or maybe it’s because of that nagging voice in the back of my mind that it wouldn’t make my dad proud.

Ah, the baggage of idolizing your parent, then losing them at a young age. Do I have my dad on a pedestal? Yeah. But he fucking earned it by being one of the greatest humans ever. And that’s not amething. Everyone I’ve met who knew him always tells me the same.

Of course, my dad was also my personal hero, and if he were still alive, he’d be my best friend, my closest confidant. I love my mom, but I was obsessed with my dad. I wanted to spend all my time with him, and he was never ever annoyed by that. He thought I was cool too, and wanted to spend his time with me. And Mom. And Hyla too. He wore his love for his family like a badge of honor, and he made every moment with us extra special.

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