Page 110 of Call Me Baby 2: Side B

“Say it now.

“To me.”

He’s read the contract, so he knows:

no jerking off while Baby’s in the room.

The rule sits right between no hands on Baby and don’t even dream about head.

Maybe it’s the visual of Hunter that’s haunting—sitting at the foot of the bed, beating his meat, shoulders hunched, eyes wild and on me, drooling, hand stroking violently. The thought makes my skin crawl.

It’s perverted. Pathetic.

Always been that way.

Until Andrew.

“You brought up the whole jerkin’ yourself off thing. You know I hate that shit, right?”

He drops his eyes, probably thinking he screwed up, said too much.

I grab his jaw, steer his eyes back to me. “Guys jerkin’ off to me? Feels like bein’ used. Like they’re erasing the person, but keeping the body.

“But with you?

“I want it.”

His hand drops slow, blueberry bag falling away from my cheek. “You want it?” His eyes bounce around my face. “You want what? What’s it?”

He’s looking at me like he knows what he heard but still doubts it.

“Andrew... if you only knew how many nights I lay there thinkin’ about you—fist wrapped around your cock, breathing heavy in my ear, your eyes all over me… your mouth on my skin…

“I used to hate that,

“used to gag at the thought.

“But not with you.

“Now I’m desperate for it. For you. ”

His eyes widen. “Nah. Wait—what?”

Then his smile.

Then his blush.

They rise at once as he catches up.

Then he tosses the frozen bag on the ledge. “For me?”

I nod, looking at him, dazed.

“Not even you… touching yourself. I never gave a fuck if a guy came. Ever. But the gasping look on your face when you’re about to. The gone look in your eyes when you do. The way your hips grind into it.” My thighs clench around him at the thought. “It’s all I wanna do—touch you, make you feel good, fall apart. God, it’s so messed up how bad I wanna be that for you.”

His faint smile’s stuck as he stares at me,

replaying my words in his head.