“Hi,” he said again, grinning into the phone as he heard her putting her keys down on the kitchen counter.
“Are you in the middle of something?” she asked.
“Nope. The night’s all mine.” And he planned to spend it with her. “What about you?”
“I just got home.”
He’d never had anyone waiting for him before, and the thought of coming home to her kisses in a few days sent warmth moving through him. He loved picturing her in his house.
At long last, the frustration that had been riding him all day started to dissipate.
Of course he wanted to hear about the progress she’d made on her sculpture, and he needed to make sure she hadn’t let her idiot of an ex-husband derail her. But first he needed to make sure she understood that all the miles currently between them didn’t mean a damn thing...and wouldn’t stop him from loving her just as thoroughly as he would have if they were standing in the same room.
“Remember what you were about to offer me right before I left today?” He couldn’t wait for her reply before saying, “Your first naked night is tonight.” He grinned even wider at her stunned silence. “I sure hope you aren’t saying anything because you’re too busy taking off your clothes.”
Finally, she gave a little laugh into the phone. “Actually, I’m standing here wondering if you’ve been watching the X-rated channels in your hotel room.”
“I don’t need p**n when I’ve got plenty of triple-X pictures in my head of you in the shower, in your studio, and in my bed.” He let the images of what the two of them had done in all those places run through her mind for a few seconds. “Put the phone on speaker, place it on the kitchen counter, and take off your tank top.”
“You’re serious?”
“You have ten seconds to take it off, Vicki.”
“Or what?” Her voice was breathy now, and obviously aroused. “You’re all the way in St. Louis.”
God, he loved her. How playful, how strong, how loving she was. All the years they’d spent apart, he’d been searching for a woman like Vicki. If only he’d realized long before this week that he’d never find a replacement for her—that she was the only woman he’d ever love—then maybe they wouldn’t have wasted so many years apart.
They couldn’t get those years back.
But they could make the most of every single one they had left.
And they damn well would.
“You’re right,” he agreed in a deceptively easy voice that he intended for her to see right through. “But I’ll be back home in five days.” He let her register the sensual threat—and promise—in his words. “Your time is up. Where’s your tank top?”
He heard her swallow before answering. “In my hands.”
“Drop it on the floor.”
The sound of the fabric dropping to his kitchen floor got him so hard he had to adjust himself again in his shorts as he sank down on the hotel room couch.
“I want you to take your leggings off next. Tell me when they’re gone.”
He let himself picture Vicki balancing first on one leg and then the other to slide the fabric off.
“They’re gone.”
“What else do you have on?”
She paused just long enough for him to know it was going to be good. “Pink lace.”
“Your br**sts look incredible in that bra.” He could barely get his brain to function well enough to ask, “Are you wearing the matching thong?”
“I pulled that off along with my leggings. Wait a second and I’ll get the bra off, too.” He heard the click of the front clasp of her bra opening. “Okay, that’s everything.”
“Jesus, Vicki.” He slid his shorts off and reached for himself. “You’re killing me here.”
She laughed softly into the phone before saying, “Now that you’ve got me naked for the rest of the night, what are you going to do with me?”
“I’m going to love you, sweetheart.” He couldn’t have hidden the emotion in his voice from her even if he wanted to.
He didn’t want to hide his feelings for her ever again.
“Ryan.” His name was a whisper on her lips, one that reverberated way down into his soul.
“Cup your br**sts for me. Do it the way I would if I were there.”
He loved the little moan that escaped her right before she said, “I wish you were here. Tell me what to do, Ryan. Tell me how you want me.”
Oh hell, he almost lost it right then and there. “Lick your thumbs then brush them over yourself like they’re my tongue.” He could imagine the taste of her so well it was almost as if he was in California with her sensitive flesh taut and so damn sweet against his tongue. “God, you taste good.”
“I love your mouth on me. The scratch of your stubble against me, the way you start to suck and bite at my skin when you lose control.”
“I’m losing control now.” He couldn’t see her smile, but he knew her well enough to be absolutely certain that her gorgeous lips were curving up at the edges. “I need to touch more of you.”
“Where, Ryan? Tell me where.”
“Leave your left hand on your perfect br**sts and start moving the right one down over your stomach and keep going. I’ll tell you when to stop.”
A few moments later, her swift intake of breath told him that her hand had reached the sweet, slick flesh between her legs.
“You’ve stopped already, haven’t you?”
“I—” She panted. “I need—”
“I know what you need, sweetheart.” Because he needed it, too. Not just tonight. Not just for a few months.
Forever.
“First I want you to tell me how you taste.” He’d planned to make her beg, but he was the one saying, “Please.”
He swore he could hear the slow slick of her tongue over her damp fingers. “A little salty.” She paused. “And a little sweet.”
“You’re so beautiful. So perfect.” His breath was coming as fast as it did when he ran sprints. “Walk over to the couch and lie down on it. Pretend I’m there with you. Over you. Sliding into you.”
“Oh God, Ryan. Yes.”
“Are you touching yourself?”
“Yes, and I’m so close.”
“I am, too.” He’d never been so turned on in all his life, but instead of telling her that, the words that came were, “I love you. So damn much.”