Hotline Fling

20: I Like You

Damian's POV

Jason and I faced off in a fiery wings contest of who ended up with the largest pile of bones until my tongue was numb. After the heat finally left my cheeks, I took a scenic city drive. Too restless to call the night over, I was in no hurry. Leaning and ripping past lights, all activity around me blurred. Having no particular destination and knowing which neighborhoods I could tear through because of slow traffic relaxed me.

Jason was right; I felt better. I wouldn't go as far as to say I was happy, but my constant edge of tension was dulled. Instead of knotted tight, my shoulders and spine were lax. I removed my gloves and rubbed my wrists, which were less strained.

I parked my bike in the condo's underground lot and ran a hand through my hair in the elevator.

"...get out, talk to real people outside work in normal conversations..."

Celia working at Wet Dreams was a mind fuck in itself. Thank fuck I hadn't spoken more with her, but the information shrunk the world around me. Did I want to meet June? Was she one of Celia's friends?

I grunted and dropped onto the leather chair behind my office desk. With a click, I filled the room with a soft, yellow light from my desk lamp, pulled out my phone, and sighed. Better sooner than later. I swiped through my messages to June's pictures. Squinting tensed my forehead, so I plugged the memory card into my computer and pulled up the professional one on my monitor.

My cock pricked with life. Fuck, bad idea. She looked better in magnified detail and enhanced with clarity. Her mouth from our video call seared in my mind, pursing and rounding while she moaned and huffed like sensual music. Her hair shone, her skin glowed, and random freckles dotted her body, including across her cheeks and one on the fullness of her left breast.

A breast I wanted to cradle my nose against, suck on, and bite into her soft skin until I marked her like a fucking teenager who'd discovered hickeys for the first time. A pilot light of warmth lit inside me. My cock flexed its opinion and strained my jeans until I released the pressure. The head sprung up, blood-flushed red and swollen.

What the hell was wrong with me? Maybe I was too detached and needed to find a real woman's warm hole to bury myself into.

June's picture blurred, but I cleared the haze with a few blinks. The valley right between her breasts made saliva pool under my tongue. I traced that sensual curve on my screen while my other hand worked over the throbbing, stressed prick that saluted June at every sight.

The idea that I pressed my cock between her breasts, fucked her that way, spilling myself onto her chest while she played with herself throbbed a round of near-primal sensations straight through me. "Fuck, June..." My bicep clenched hard as I choked myself up and down. Strain ran down my wrist, and my hips bucked. Heat roared through me, and my breaths shortened and sharpened.

After a few minutes of caveman-like grunts and groans, I hissed as my cock tightened in one last heated stroke, then erupted strings of white fluid over my hand and stomach. I blinked my heavy eyes at the blurriness and post-coming exhaustion, milking out the last strings of my frustrations.

Reality slapped me hard. I heaved a few deep breaths, breaking through the silence until my elevated heartbeat calmed down. If we met in person, would I be able to control myself?

I blinked at the crazy thought. I knew nothing about this woman as a person, but my gut instincts told me if I asked her, she would answer honestly. After I cleaned up and changed into sleep clothes, I put my phone back together and dialed her number.