She doesn’t say anything, but her face says it all. She’s with me. Her eyes gaping. Her mouth hanging open. Her cheeks red.
I know it won’t take long for me to come, not with her pretty blue eyes watching me like I’m the best movie she’s ever seen.
I move my hand up to my tip and brush my thumb along the top as some cum drips out. I spread it along my tip so it’s glistening.
“Holy shit,” she whispers underneath her breath.
Then I take my hand and grip myself harder this time, pumping faster while she continues to watch.
“Fuck, Mel,” I gasp as my balls begin to tingle. “I’m gonna come.”
“Yes,” she replies. “Please. Yes.”
Her eager response is my undoing. I continue to pump my cock as spurts of cum fall down on my hand and drip down my dick.
I close my eyes and let the relief take over. My chest is heavy as I try to catch my breath. When I open my eyes, Mel is still staring directly at my cum-covered hand and cock like she’s hypnotized. She looks up at the screen, and our eyes meet.
“Wow,” she says on an exhale.
“Yeah,” I reply. “Wow.”
Her throat bobs as she swallows. “I think I need another shower.”
I can’t help myself; I laugh loudly. Louder than I have in a long time. “I need one more.”
After we hang up, I go straight to the bathroom and clean myself up. I’m starting to think this taking-it-slow thing is out the window after today. And I don’t think I’m sorry about it.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Melissa
The hospital feels quieter today. Not in the way it does after a bad night or a loss. It simply feels lighter, like the air has shifted a degree warmer, and I’m the only one who notices. I keep fanning my face like that’s going to help. It doesn’t.
I’m checking Frank’s vitals when he watches me over the rim of his glasses, a knowing little smile tugging at his mouth.
“You’re humming,” he says.
I glance up. “Am I?”
“You are,” he insists. “Been doing it for ten minutes.”
Heat creeps into my cheeks. “I didn’t realize.”
“Mmm,” he hums. “That’s usually how it goes.”
I finish adjusting his IV and step back, clipboard hugged to my chest. “How are you feeling this morning?”
“Like I survived another day,” he says easily. Then his eyes flick toward the doorway. “And like you’re not the only one walking around different.”
My heart stutters. “Different how?”
He smiles, slow and fond. “You’re softer. He’s quieter, which I didn’t think was possible.”
That makes my pulse spike.
Frank leans back against his pillows. “Whatever’s going on between you two, don’t panic. You’re not imagining it.”
I swallow. “We’re just … working.”