Page 11 of Johan.

“I took another plan B, yes.” Her words bring a brief sense of relief, but it’s quickly overshadowed by guilt. The casual way she mentions it makes me realize the gravity of the situation and the risks we took without thinking.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t think our meeting would lead to this,” I say, my voice tinged with regret. I hadn’t considered the aftermath in the heat of the moment, and now it feels like a weight pressing down on me. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay. I went to a walk-in clinic after lunch to get a prescription and got started today. I’ll take it with my breakfast every morning.”

“And how long does it take to be reliable?” I ask, trying to mask the desperation in my voice.

“A week,” she responds, and I can hear the frustration in her tone.

“A week? Gosh, that’s a long time.” The words come out harsher than I intended, my own impatience and worry seeping through. The silence that follows is heavy, filled with unspoken fears and longing. Gosh, I wish I could touch her, ease the strain on us both.

Hannah seems to have the same idea, her previously calm voice dropping into a low purr on the other side of the line. “It is a long time, isn't it? Do you think you can wait that long?”

“I've waited longer than that for you before,” I laugh humorlessly. Sometimes it feels like I’ve waited a lifetime to have her. But I would wait a thousand of them as long as Hannah, all smooth skin and dark hair, was waiting for me at the end.

She isn’t about to get dragged back down into the seriousness of the previous conversation, though. Hannah is single-minded in her seduction. “What did you do then, when you had to wait? How did you...take the edge off?”

She knows what she’s doing to me, damn her. Frustrating, irresistible woman—I’m getting hard again already, and I’m more than happy to play this game with her. “Why do you ask?”

“Just tell me. I want to hear it.”

“Well,” I clear my throat, “I'd imagine you. That first night, I was remembering the way your lips felt on mine. Your smell. The warmth of you. And after that, I'd remember new things. Like the way your hair fell over your eyes as I fucked you, or the little noises you made as I went down on you.”

Hannah sucks in a breath, and there's a beat of surprised silence. My smile is wicked—she didn't expect me to turn the tables on her so quickly. Finally, she speaks, her voice low and soft. “Are you stroking yourself right now, Johan?”

I’d stopped when the conversation turned serious, but hearing the heat in Hannah's voice, even the idea of her, is enough to have my cock hard as steel. I close my fingers around the base, sliding upward slowly, and squeeze.

“I am, yeah.”

“Good,” she sighs, and there’s a hint of a moan in her voice, “Keep going.”

“Anything you want, princess. I won’t make you beg. At least not yet—next time I have you, though…” I chuckle, and the sound melts into a groan as I continue to stroke myself, a slow pace building to more. Closing my eyes, I can almost picture her, the flush of her skin as she drives me to the brink with just her words.

“And if I wasn’t begging?” Her voice has gone breathy, and I bet she's touching herself too.

“Oh, you’d be begging.”

“What if I wasn’t, though?” She demands again, the tension in her voice rising.

“Then I'd keep licking, tasting, driving you out of your mind. Until you were, because you couldn't help yourself. And I wouldn't stop until you'd screamed my name.”

“That’s…” her breath hitches, and she lets out a tiny, stifled whimper.

“That’s the truth,” I tell her as I keep my hand firmly going up and down my dick. “The next time we’re together, I'm going to make you come so hard you won't know your own name.”

“Or maybe I'll start with fucking you,” she counters, panting on the other end of the line.

“Yeah? Tell me.”

“I'll wear one of those cute, little fit-and-flare dresses for you, in your favorite color. No panties. You'll be naked, with me on your lap. You’ll want to take control, Johan, but I won’t let you.”

I squeeze myself hard, trying to pace myself. “Fuck…” Can this really be my Hannah saying all these filthy things right now? Our need for each other blazes over the distance between us, so powerfully that I can almost feel her breath against my ear as she continues.

“Every time you're fully inside me, I grind down on you. The friction is almost more than I can bear, and I'm moaning and rocking back and forth, and saying your name.”

I can't stop myself. I groan into the phone.

“Johan,” she says, her voice rough and ragged, “are you close?”

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