30. Kayla

Chapter 30

Kayla

Weeks later, I’m still thinking about how heated things got the last time Ryan and I spoke. The memory has me zoning out in the middle of the supermarché , or clutching the edge of the kitchen counter, or having to go back to bed for a swift midday orgasm.

Listening to Ryan ask me questions about someone else while I touched myself was insanely hot. Somehow even better than the sex itself, and I haven’t been able to stop wondering what he’s like with other people. I don’t care if it’s messed up. We’ve never been normal when it comes to this stuff.

Seducing him is so easy when we’re together in person, one of my favourite games, in fact. All I have to do is pout my lips and flutter my eyelashes at him and he knows what I want.

If that doesn’t get the message across, hooking a finger behind his belt buckle does the trick. All methods I can’t deploy while he’s at the other end of the phone and not here in my bedroom.

Asking for sex in person is one thing, when I know the answer will be yes, but asking him to get me off over the phone is quite another.

“Ryan…” I try to drop my voice and make it sound seductive, but I probably sound tired more than anything.

It’s late here, just after lunch in California, and I’ve been looking forward to our call ever since we discovered he’d have a free afternoon this weekend .

He’s been surfing with Cameron this morning, but now he’s home alone, chilling on his sofa and eating a burrito he picked up on the way back. It’s the kind of casual afternoon I picture us spending together, even if there are limited options for Mexican food in my remote part of the world.

Maybe it’s something we’d learn to cook together. I’d get really good at making salsas, he’d order special seasonings online, and we’d walk through town hand in hand on weekends to pick up our supplies.

“Yes, Bunny?” he says, swallowing his food and snapping me out of my fantasy. God, I wish I wouldn’t drift off into other worlds like that. It hurts too much to come back.

“I, um…” A fit of nervous giggles bubbles out of me, and on my phone screen, he breaks into a smile.

“What’s got you acting all shy?”

Those butterflies in my belly go wild. “I really need to come.”

He fakes a shocked gasp, eyes wide in scandal, but I can tell he loves it. “Oh, do you? Why’s that then?”

I’m already in bed, snuggled underneath the covers, so I sit up a little, lowering the camera angle so he can tell I’m not wearing anything.

“Been thinking about you all day. Excited to hear your voice.”

“Well, that makes two of us, sweetheart. What are you in the mood for?”

I sigh a little, twisting the end of one braid in my free hand. “Can you talk me through it, please?”

“You want me to tell you how to touch yourself, sweet girl?”

“I want you to tell me about your last hook up.”

“What do you mean?” he says flatly. Maybe this was a mistake.

“That thing we did last month was fucking hot. Me telling you about that guy. I want to hear about the last time you had sex. ”

His jaw ticks ever so subtly, and he pokes his tongue against the inside of his cheek, considering.

“OK, I’m down. Let me just…” he gets up from his sofa and I watch him walk the hallway towards his bedroom. “Cam could be back any time.”

He closes his door and flops onto his bed, but then gets right back up again.

“Actually, let me go wash my hands. If I get hot sauce on my dick, you’ll hear me screaming from all the way over there.”

He props his phone up on his nightstand so I can watch him leave, wiggling his hips and blowing me kisses as he goes. Rolling my eyes at his goofing off is an ingrained reaction, but I wish I was there, laying on his bed, waiting for him to come back. I wish I knew his place better, from real memories, not just the glimpses I get when we talk and he moves the camera around.

I wish for a lot of things, but that’s all they are. Wishes.

Ryan strips out of his t-shirt on the way back and I swear the smell of his skin floods my nostrils. Memories of my cheek against his chest, only a sheen of sweat between us, falling asleep in post-orgasmic bliss.

“So, what do you want to know?” he asks, collapsing onto his stomach, getting comfy with his chest propped up on a folded pillow.

Oh god, he’s going to make me say it out loud.

“You know… What have you been up to? Sexually speaking.”

“Hmm, well, honestly, the last time was a little rushed because we had places to be.”

“Oh.”

He sounds dismissive, and I can’t tell if that means it was good or bad sex.

“But there was a time, a few days before that, I keep coming back to it when I jerk off. Want me to tell you about that one? ”

What the fuck?

“Sure.” I try to play it cool, though I’m starting to feel like this talking about other partners kink doesn’t work both ways. It's stupid to assume he only thinks about me when he masturbates. Who is this woman? Or are we talking about multiple here?

“Well,” he drawls. “It was different from the kind of sex I usually have with you.”

“How so?”

“It was kind of slow, and tender. I really took my time with her, made sure it was unforgettable, you know?”

The tight pull in the pit of my stomach doesn’t feel as good as it usually does when we talk like this. It grips at the bottom of my lungs, and breathing in feels hellish. What I thought would make me horny, actually makes me want to rip my skin off.

“Are you dating her?”

He suppresses a laugh. “She wouldn’t let me even if I tried.”

“Did she like it?”

“Oh yeah, she liked it. Want me to keep going?”

“Mm-hmm.”

I fucking hate this.

I should never have asked. Blood whooshes so fast in my ears I can’t actually focus on his words. I stare into some middle space past my phone screen, only glancing back when he says something that makes my chest hollow out.

“...so then she begged me to come inside her.”

I thought I was the only one he’d done that with.

“It felt so good coming inside her. Claiming her in a way. And then she asked me to keep going, and we stared into each other’s eyes until we both came again.” I pinch the bridge of my nose, look away and try not to cry. “And I really loved it because I’d never done that with anyone before. Or since.”

My head snaps up to see him with his chin in his palm, sporting his best shit-eating grin.

Is he talking about us?

“Ryan, no. Are you being serious?”

“Oh yeah,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows. “It was so fucking intense. She’s really beautiful too. Most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. You’d like her, I think.”

“Why aren’t you sleeping with other people?”

“The only person I want to sleep with is you.” He says it so casually, like I’ve asked him what he wants to eat for dinner.

“What the fuck? So you’re not going to have sex until Christmas?”

“You’re worth the wait, Bunny.”

“But that’s not… we’re not together… you can’t just change the rules like that. We’ve been over this so many times.”

He shifts to sit up by his headboard, and I grab a nearby t-shirt and pull it on. He’s seen me naked countless times, but now it feels too vulnerable.

“I know the deal, and I’m not asking you to change any of that. I’m saying, you play by your rules, I’ll play by mine. Waiting hasn’t been hard, and it’s April already.”

Bile churns in my belly. If he’s waiting, and I’m not, what kind of monster does that make me?

“I need to go,” I tell him, looking away when his face falls.

“I thought we had at least an hour crossover?”

“We do, but I don’t feel horny anymore. I need some space to think. ”

“Kayla, don’t go getting it all twisted in your head, talk to me. I wouldn’t have told you if you hadn’t asked. Do you want me to lie? I can make some shit up if you like?”

“No, I don’t think I felt comfortable with it, anyway.”

“So we’re on the same page, then?”

“About?”

“Me not having sex with anyone else.”

“You can fuck whoever you want!” I yell, hoping my upstairs neighbour is already in a deep sleep.

“I will,” he shrugs. “Next winter.”