Page 27 of Wicked Love
“Put me on video,” I commanded. There was something about her that made me want to take charge, to dominate.
There was a hesitation, a catch in Melasina’s breath, and then she switched to the camera feature. Her hair was up in a messy bun, and she was wearing short shorts, no shoes, and a tank top with no bra. I could see her nipples through the camera.
“Let your hair down,” I said.
Her mouth parted, her eyes wide, Melasina’s hand went up to her hair and pulled out the band holding it up. Her dark locks tumbled around her face and down onto her breasts.
“Take off your shorts,” I said, my voice husky.
The camera shook a little as she stood, and slid the shorts down her long legs. She wasn’t wearing panties. “I approve of the lack of underwear,” I said with a smile.
Melasina didn’t reply, only smiled. That smile, her faith in me—it made me so hard it hurt.
“Why are you all dressed up?” she asked.
“What would you like to see?”
“Are you going to tell me to touch myself?” Her head dropped down and she looked up at me through her lashes.
“I was,” I said.
“Then I want to see you touch yourself, too,” Melasina said.
I’d never, ever done this before. I’d had a couple of girlfriends, but my work took priority, and I never felt this… adventurous. This excited.
I unbuttoned the button on my jeans, and then unzipped them slowly. I pushed down my briefs, and my cock sprang free. “Is this what you wanted to see?” I said.
“Yes,” Melasina nodded, her voice a purr. “I’m showing you mine. I want you to show me yours.” She drew a finger between her legs.
My cock throbbed in response and I had to stop myself from groaning.
She dragged her fingers across her pussy, a small moan escaping her.
I took my cock in my hand, giving it a few strokes. I wasn’t going to last long if—
“The chickens! The chickens are loose!” A woman’s voice from what sounded like somewhere in the house, shrieked at air siren volume.
Melasina’s head jerked up as though she’d been shot, and she dropped the phone.
“Shit!” I heard her swear, and there was a rush of footsteps. Then the phone was picked up, and Melasina was tugging on her shorts with one hand. “I’m sorry, Jasper, my neighbor, Zelda—she’s old, and she—I’m coming,” she yelled. She looked back down at the camera. “I’m really sorry. Can I have a rain check?”
“Yes, you can,” I said.
Before I could say anything else, make something of the clusterfuck that had just occurred, she hung up.
Right now, I could wring Zelda’s neck right along with the damn chickens. Well, hell. I stood up, tucking myself back in. Zelda’s steam whistle shriek had effectively killed all my sex mojo. Probably for the best. I had things to do.
But then, I was going to see Melasina, and I was going to tell her the truth. About Talia, and me, and the part I’d played in the exile of her mother.
And I was going to hope for the best.
First, however, I needed to go see Talia. The notes in the back of Sariah’s file had to be clarified. If I was going to risk whatever this was with Melasina, I needed to be sure.
Chapter Nine
Melasina
“Zelda! What in the hell are you doing?” I’d moved Zelda into my office, setting her reliquary on the desk. So she could look out the window. Which meant I was probably going insane, but whatever. I’d already graduated to grave robbing. Might as well go all in, right?
