Page 59 of Legal

And I can still smell you on my fingers.

I can taste you on mine.

My screen flashed to an incoming call, and I tabbed over to answer. “Hello, Chase.”

“I want to come back over.” It sounded more like a growl, and I almost considered it. My body responded to him like a finely tuned Stradivarius.

“It’s too late.”

He let out a loud exhale, and I didn’t know if he was preparing to argue his case. Aside from those two period days—thank Heaven for short menstrual cycles—we’d been at it every day, and he’d never asked for more outside the allotted window times.

“Then I want to hear you come for me again, right now while I listen.”

“Chase, I’m outside.” Trees only provided visual coverage, and there were no fireworks tonight. I couldn’t depend on the chirping crickets to mask my moans.

“It’s either that or I’m coming over.”

I slipped my hand down between my thighs and under my skirt. I hadn’t bothered to put my panties back on after he left. Either I’d produced a whole new batch of wetness from hearing his voice, or I was still soaked from earlier. It was impossible to tell; my arousal all ran together like watercolors these days.

“Are your fingers inside you?”

“Yes.”

“Suck on them.”

I brought two to my mouth and slid them over my tongue, closing my lips tightly before pulling them out. “Mmm… They remind me of you, Chase.” The taste of his lips, the scent of his body—it was all a part of me. I didn’t know where he began, and I ended. I repeated the motion over and over, thinking of him.

“Fuck, Jillian. I can hear you.”

I traveled my fingers down my body, imagining they were his. As if I hadn’t received enough from him. As if I weren’t tired and swollen and sore. “I’m touching my pussy now,” I whispered. “I’m going to make myself come, just like you wanted me to.”

I heard him say softly, “I want a lot of things.”

His breathing increased as mine did, as I manipulated my oversensitive clit. There was slight pain; it was raw, but it was a pleasurable discomfort. Images of Chase flooded my mind as I fantasized him there with me. His hardness taking me deeper, more within. Making me teeter on that line between just enough and too much.

“Come for me.” His voice sounded way off in the distance as the ripples increased to waves, and I gave myself one more time.

A layer of sweat coated my skin, and I brushed the hair from my face. I was utterly spent. Sleeping outside seemed not only a plausible idea but a necessary one; I didn’t think I could get up without falling back over.

“You there, Jillian?”

“Mmhmm. Are you coming over tomorrow?” I scanned my mental Rolodex, searching for the time we’d planned. “At noon.” I didn’t know if I could handle it, but I still wanted to try.

He laughed quietly. “You only want me for my body.”

“Fact.”

I curled into the swing, my eyelids too heavy to hold up any longer.

“Good night, Wild Horses. Sleep well.”

“Night, Chase.”

Chase didn’t come over the next day or the next or the next. He’d canceled without an explanation, and although I had the sense that he wanted me to ask, I didn’t. We didn’t have that type of arrangement. If he couldn’t make it over for our sex sessions, that was his business, not mine.

It was the morning of the fourth day, and I was hurting. My body was going through withdrawals, and I was moody and irritable. I’d never realized how much stress relief a good orgasm brought until it was denied. I could have picked out something from my bedroom drawer to bring a little relief, but somehow it wasn’t the same anymore.

Damn you, Chase.

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