“Hi, Daniel.”
God, how had he gone so long without hearing her say his name? His already-insistent erection swelled painfully at the husky tone of her voice. “Where are you?”
His abrupt question seemed to throw her. In the background, he heard a door clicking shut. “Hayden’s apartment. Locked in her bathroom, actually. Why?”
Thank God. She’d answered his unspoken question of who the hell had taken the picture. “You send me a picture of yourself looking like a Playboy pinup, in a Mets jersey no less, and have to ask me why?”
“A bet’s a bet.” A soft exhalation of breath. “I also sent it so you’d give in and call me.”
“It worked.” Daniel groaned, so unbelievably turned on he could barely form sentences. Unable to resist, he reached down and rubbed the heel of his hand against his weighty arousal. “What were you thinking of in that picture?”
“You,” she answered shakily, “and me.”
“Good, baby. What were we doing?”
Her breath came faster next to his ear. “I thought about the time…the time we were in the stairwell at the hospital. Only this time…” She hesitated.
“This time what?” Daniel urged. “Tell me.”
“We didn’t stop. When those people started arguing below. We kept going.”
Jesus. Daniel couldn’t believe the lack of restraint behind her words. His girl had a thing for being bad in public and it delighted the hell out of him. He’d never been so hot and ready in his life. The need grew too urgent. Too insistent. He couldn’t wait. His fingers closed around the zipper of his fly and drew it down, causing him to grit his teeth as the pressure fell away, leaving no barrier between himself and his hand. He stroked himself, biting his bottom lip at the simultaneous agony and bliss.
“Are you still wearing those flimsy white panties?”
“Yes,” Story breathed.
“Good. I need you to reach inside and pet your clit for me. Gently, like I do it.” Daniel heard a soft moan on the other end of the line. He increased the pace of his own hand. “How does that feel, gorgeous?”
“N-not as good as when you do it.”
His eyes squeezed shut. “I’ll make up for it later. I promise.” He could already feel his body demanding release, but he held back. Just a little longer, until she could go over the edge with him. “Now tell me, what did I do to you in the stairwell? Did I f**k you, baby?”
“Yes.”
“But I did something else first, didn’t I?” Her gasp answered his question. “I think you pictured me kneeling between your thighs. Tell me I’m right.”
“You’re right. How did…”
“How did I know? Oh sunshine, I know so much about your body. For instance, I know you’re still petting yourself like I asked, but you need two fingers inside you now.”
“I want. I want…” She broke off with a frustrated sob.
“You want my permission? You have it.” Story whimpered and he imagined his own fingers taking the place of hers, sinking deep into her slick heat. A growl broke from his throat. He wouldn’t last much longer. “When I knelt down between your thighs in the stairwell, did I drape your legs over my shoulders and push you wide?” He couldn’t wait for her answer. “Yes, I did, baby. I wanted to see your pretty pu**y.”
Daniel listened through the phone as Story came, her muffled moans pushing him past his breaking point. He pictured himself, head locked between her thighs in the darkened stairwell, as she shook against his mouth in orgasm. Finally, his own release came, hot and thick in his hand. It seemed to go on forever, prolonged by Story’s husky cries in his ear.
He felt shattered and rebuilt at the same time. They’d just made love through the phone, yet never had he felt closer to a woman. He ached to hold her, to feel her chest rise and fall as she recovered. To kiss her neck and feel the pulse racing underneath her delicate skin, knowing he was the one who’d sped it up. She would smile up at him and lock her hands behind his neck in that adorable way she did. His thoughts did nothing to calm his racing heart.
Daniel eventually recovered enough to wedge the phone between his ear and shoulder and clean himself off. As he carefully zipped himself back into his pants, he realized he couldn’t recall how much time had passed since they’d spoken. “Story, you there?”
“Mmm-hmm,” she answered drowsily.
Relief moved through him. “I need to see you.” He heard pounding on the other end. Someone’s voice, Hayden’s presumably, yelled something.
“Be right out,” Story called back before answering him. “I can’t tonight. I’m leaving in a few minutes to go out with Hayden. Her parents are throwing a party at the Soho Grand.”
No way could he pass another night without her. “Tell Hayden I’m coming.”
He heard a door open, then Story’s soft voice once more. “Hayden, Daniel says he’s coming.”
“Ugh, too much information,” her friend responded.
“Coming to the party, you ass.”
“Oh. Fine. I’ll have Mom put his name on the list.”
Story finally came back on the line. He could hear the smile in her voice and his own mouth quirked up in response. “Okay, Daniel. I’ll see you in a while.”
“Looking forward to it, sunshine.”
Chapter Seventeen
Story leaned against the polished bar of the elegant, candlelit Club Room, wondering if anyone would notice if she decided to go barefoot. The pain being inflicted by the four-inch heels she’d borrowed from Hayden were distracting her from a very pleasant conversation that included herself and two young women, acquaintances of Hayden. Of course, upon arriving, Hayden had been commandeered by her mother to be introduced to every eligible gentleman in the room, leaving Story to her own devices.
She’d been pleasantly surprised when the women, Cora and Allison, had included her in their conversation at the bar, and two martinis later, she’d agreed to meet them for lunch later in the week. If she was still in New York, that is. Jack’s doctor had called her this morning and passed on the news that her father would be discharged in two days’ time. Her decision to get Jack settled and return to California had been so clear this morning, until her earlier phone call with Daniel.
Her decision to get on a plane and fly away didn’t seem quite so clear anymore.
After not hearing his voice for so long, she couldn’t deny the overwhelming sense of relief she’d felt simply speaking to him. What ensued after that…well, she still couldn’t quite believe her own shameless behavior. Excitement danced through her at the thought of seeing him tonight, seeing the knowledge of what they’d done just hours ago in his eyes. She wished he’d hurry.
Story didn’t want to waste another minute of her time in New York pretending what she felt for Daniel was merely a product of emotional upheaval brought on by her breakup. She’d never felt so connected with another person before, and they’d only just met. What would develop between them if she gave it some time?
She’d told him the night of the baseball game that he didn’t seem like the one-woman type. If she could take her statement back now, she would. One, because she couldn’t stop thinking about the hurt on his face as the words left her mouth. Two, because there were no guarantees in any relationship. She’d learned that nugget of truth by playing it safe and dating a straitlaced doctor who ate the same boring lunch every day of his life.