Page 10 of Power Play

He pauses for a minute, and I realize how heavily I’m breathing.

“You still with me, Calway?” he asks.

“I’m here,” I manage to sputter out.

“Good girl. Keep listening, okay?” I nod as if he can see me. “I would have kissed up the inside of your thigh, slow and steady, until I got to the top.”

Oh, my God.I slide my hand down my stomach until I find my center, and I start to circle my clit.

“I’d push your skirt up higher and pull you to the edge of the dryer. And then I’d pull those navy-blue panties to the side so I could get a look at that pretty pussy.”

Hearing him say the word makes me even wetter. But hearing him talking aboutmine?I’m borderline feral.

“Mmm,” I moan by accident as I drop my head back onto my pillow. He pauses again.

“Are you enjoying this, baby?” he asks. I bite my lip.

“Yes,” I whisper.

“Good. Then I would start with one finger. I’d slide it up and down your wetness a few times, feeling my way around. I’d want to make sure you were used to my touch. Then I’d sink one finger inside of you and wait for your whole body to clench around me.”Oh, my fucking God. Seriously.“Once I had a good rhythm, I’d scoot you down a little more, and I’d suck that pretty little clit into my mouth while my fingers were still inside of you. I’d suck on it, lick it, over and over while my fingers plunged deeper and deeper into you. I’d wait for you to pull on my hair, and when I knew you were close, I’d go even faster. My tongue would cover every single inch of you until you exploded all over me. I wouldn’t leave that room until my beard was soaked with you.”

I’m rubbing faster and faster, pressing a little harder until I hit it just right. The vision of him, his face buried in me, is sending me to the brink so quickly I can hardly breathe.

But I am breathing. And apparently, I’m breathing loudly.

“That’s it, baby,” he says. “Play with it. Touch it, baby. Touch that pussy for me,” he says. “Harder for me, baby. Feel my hand inside of you. Feel my tongue on you, licking you till you come. Feel it, baby. That’s a good girl. You’re doing so good, baby.”

I’m panting like a fucking maniac, and then, I’m moaning out loud.

“Oh, fuck,” I mutter as the orgasm rips through me, shooting down my legs and making my toes go numb. I catch my breath. “Jesus, Levi.”

“Just think,” he says, “if you don’t leave next time, you won’t have to do it all by yourself. Get a good night’s sleep, Lo.”

And then he hangs up.

And I’m ready for round two. Although, I’m positive there is nothing sexier in this world than Levi Buck talking me through an orgasm.

The next day, I'm getting dressed for my shift at Gary’s. I’m standing in front of my mirror, folding down the collar of my black Gary’s polo and running my fingers through my hair. Just as I’m about to turn for the door, I notice out of the corner of my eye the old cedar box my mother had given me when I turned twelve. She had told me it was her treasure box when she was a kid, and she was passing it on to me to keep mine in.

Inside, I have two pictures of her and me, one of us in the hospital the day I was born, the other on my first day of kindergarten, and then a photo of us—all of us—the Calways. I have a copy of my official adoption certificate folded up, the letter Jeff wrote me when he had asked permission to adopt me, and a letter from each of my siblings, telling me how excited they were to have me in their family.

Over the years, I've added a few things to it—my first sonogram picture of Harper, the first picture of us.

But underneath all that is a photo my sister had taken the last time Levi had been in town. He’d already been in the league for a few years and was back for a game in D.C. He’d come over to the house, and before I had gone out for the night, Demi had snapped a quick photo of us, me proudly wearing my Buck jersey and him hoisting me into the air. I was seventeen.

I don’t know why I kept it.

Maybe it was because it was the last photo taken of me where my smile wasn’t broken. Where I wasn’t hiding something behind it.

Maybe it was because it was Levi.

Maybe it was all the above.

I smile as I run my finger over it, then tuck it back into the box and head for the restaurant.

A few hours later, I’m sitting in the pickup line at Harper’s school, waiting for the afternoon bell to ring. She’s in a pre-k class at our local elementary school—the one I started at when we moved in with Jeff.

I got here earlier today—first in line—so I’m just sitting with my feet up on my seat, flicking through my phone. But then I hear a woman’s laugh, and when I look up, I freeze. I see Mrs. Huber, the principal, walking out the front doors with none other than Levi Buck. They're both smiling and laughing, her putting one hand to her chest, the other on his bicep while she laughs—way too loudly, I might add—at whatever it is that he says. But then his eyes meet mine, and he stops in his tracks.

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