Spellbound, Boundless Series, Book 4

Ch. 19

Lana called late in the evening as I attempted to watch a movie. My nights had been spent alone with very little food and copious libation. I was watching a modern-day film on mute when the phone rang. Focus had eluded me from the moment I'd met her. "Ms. Coto," I answered, a little inebriated from my third bourbon.

"Hi," she said softly.

I smiled at the sound of her voice. "What can I do for you?"

"I don't think I can do this."

My stomach clenched. "Do what?" I shifted the phone to my dominant hand.

"The plan."

My shoulders sagged into the cushions of the couch. I pinched the bridge of my nose and rubbed my eyes. "Why?"

"It's too much."

I bit my cheek. "As you said, it will only be one time."

"But you'll expect more," she deduced.

"I expect us to enjoy ourselves," I said evenly. "If you can only handle me once, then so be it."

"Handle?" She growled. "That right there is why I want and don't want to do this." She spoke through gritted teeth. I imagined her standing next to her motorcycle, pointing at nothing. "You're so—"

Strobes of light from an action sequence blinded me and I closed my eyes. "Smug?" I said flatly.

"Yes," she hissed. I pictured her kicking the tire of her motorcycle out of frustration.

Over my lounge pants, I rubbed my hardening cock. "Where are you?"

"In my room," she said breathily.

I perked up, leaning forward with excitement for what I wanted to do with her. "Do you live alone?"

"No. I have roommates."

Jealousy seized my heart, making it skip several beats. "Kenni?"

"And another girl."

"Do you share a bedroom?" I held my breath, praying she didn't.

"No."

A wide grin spread across my mouth. I leaned back once again. With my hand firmly over my cock, I asked, "Is your door closed?"

"Why?"

"Answer," I growled.

I heard her breath hitch. "It is," she said softly.

My eyebrow lifted at the timidity in her voice. "Locked?"

A rustling noise, as if she shifted the phone to her other ear, created static on the line. "No."

With a squeeze of my manhood, I groaned. "Go lock it."

She hesitated. Through the receiver, her breath hissed softly. "Why?" The quiver in her voice excited me.

"Because I told you too."

A sigh on her end halted my own breath. Then, "Okay." After several seconds, only her breathing alerted me that she had returned.

Through an uncontainable grin, I asked, "What are you wearing?" I stared at the TV screen, envisioning Lana in her room.

A disbelieving laughter crackled the line. "Really? Is this the Eighties?"

"Tell me," I growled.

The springs of a bed creaked in the background. I stopped rubbing myself, waiting to hear her response. "I'm wearing a tank top and shorts."

I grimaced. Clearly, she'd never done this before. "That's boring. I need more details."

She paused. The image of her nipples beading through the thin fabric came to mind. "I'm not comfortable with this."