Page 135 of Wrong Pucking Player

I don’t know what he’s wanting to see.

“See what?” I’m breathless again.

“That pussy of yours, Kenzie.”

My heart skips. My pussy flutters. My mind is going to mush like my limbs.

“Let me see how wet you are, and you’ll get your single photo for safekeeping.”

Oh God.

I can’t even try to slow my movements. Sitting up a little taller, I push further back into the couch, my legs unraveling from their crossed position so I can spread and lift them, so my feet are pressed into the suede surface of the couch.

A tilt of the phone and I’m positive he can see exactly what he wants.

My glistening pussy.

The center point that’s perfectly illuminated by the dim lights of the room.

The rumbling growl that thrums from Armani’s chest to vibrate against the walls of his throat is the perfect eargasm to my ears.

I’ve never been this turned-on in my life.

Shaking with the desperate need to touch myself.

To imagine being touched.

Licked.

Fucked.

Again and again in whatever order pleases Armani.

This will drive me insane if I can’t tame the build of pleasure that’s waiting to spike until my climax ripples through me.

“Look at you, Kenzie.” Armani’s voice is unrecognizable. “Dripping wet from that beautiful pussy of yours.” He’s licking his lips as if he’s right here and ready to dive in. “You’re making this deprived goalie thirsty.”

“Then come here and drink up,” I mutter defiantly, even though my cheeks are blazing hot with heat as I struggle not to look at his expression. “Go back to showing your cock.”

“Andrews.”

My eyes seek his almost by default. The authoritative allure of his husky voice does sinful things to my quivering body.

“Keep defying me, and I’ll hang up.”

Fuck no!

It takes everything to stop myself from saying something—even begging him—not to leave me on the receiving end like that.

The silence between us has me holding my breath, the suspense driving me mad—just like the way this man is staring at me like a descending goddess he’s worshipped for years.

“So, my woman can follow orders.” His devilish grin will be the death of me because I’ll die if something doesn’t appease this agonizing ache.

“I know what you want,” he begins before he bites that rough bottom lip of his. It’s certainly a distraction, making me wish he was here so I could bite and tug at it with impatience. “But I need a little more, Kenzie.”

More? What more can I give?

“Please, Oscar.” To think I’d actually beg. “I can’t…”

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