My maudlin mood stuck with me as I made my way home later that night. Rosa wasn't with me as she'd accepted the cowboy's offer of a private dance back in his hotel room. She'd told me not to wait up, which usually meant she'd be back around dawn, fall into bed and get up only before her next shift started. I wanted to confront her and ask how she could act all self-righteous about Brock when she was going to fuck the cowboy, but I didn't because I knew what she'd say. She wasn't deluding herself into thinking that Bobby Ray was a white knight, sweeping in to save her. She thought that's how I viewed Brock.

I frowned as I started up the stairs. That wasn’t how I saw Brock at all. I knew he wasn't Prince Charming and I was definitely no Snow White. I wasn't looking for happily ever after, but I believed that what we did have was real, however long it lasted. I didn't have to pretend to like him touching me, kissing me. My stomach tightened at the memory of our last night in Philadelphia together and how he'd made me come so many times I'd nearly passed out. Sure, there wasn't a deep emotional connection there, but the sex was amazing enough without it.

The apartment was cooler than the hallway, but not by much. It was bearable, nothing more. I pulled off my shirt and shorts as I walked back to my room and tossed the clothes into my hamper. I still wasn't quite comfortable enough to parade around the apartment naked when Rosa was here, but being down to my panties and bra when I was alone wasn't a big deal at all, especially when it was this hot.

I pulled a carton of ice cream out of the fridge and was just getting ready to settle on the couch and marathon a few shows to unwind when my phone buzzed. It was Brock, telling me he wanted to Skype. A few seconds later, the beat-up laptop that Rosa and I shared dinged, saying I had an incoming call. I quickly shoved the ice cream back in the freezer and then answered the video chat. We 'borrowed' our internet from our neighbor's Wi-Fi, but since we worked different hours, he hadn't seemed to notice. I'd appreciated it more over the last couple weeks.

“Who's there with you?” Brock's tone was immediately accusatory.

“What?” I asked as I sat down.

“You're in your underwear. Who's there with you?”

I rolled my eyes. “It's insanely hot here, Brock. I'm alone. Rosa's not even here.”

“Really?” His mood shifted immediately, and I recognized that glint in his eyes. “So it's just you?”

I nodded, my stomach tightening. I really hoped he was going to take this where I thought it was going. I could use the release, and it would be more fun this way than to spend some extra time fantasizing in the shower.

“Take off your bra.” He leaned back in his chair, giving me a nice view of the way his t-shirt clung to his torso.

I gave him a seductive smile as I stood. Taking off my bra was a little more difficult than stripping in my work clothes, but I still managed to make it look sexy. By the time I kicked aside my panties and returned to the chair, Brock was already rubbing himself through his shorts.

“You are so fucking hot, you know that?” His voice was low. “I'll bet all the guys at The Diamond Club are all over you, wanting a piece of that ass.”

I stiffened. Brock and I didn't normally talk about my job, especially not like that.

“Play with your nipples.”

I shifted in my seat, still a bit shocked by his words. The arousal I'd felt before had waned with his mention of work, and now he was sounding more like he was giving orders than fooling around with his girlfriend. Rosa's comments came flooding back and, for the first time, I wondered if she was right.

“Come on, baby, let me see them get hard.” His words took on a smoother tone and he winked at me through the monitor. “Please.”

I couldn’t help it; a grinned at his little boy plea. He looked so cute when he pouted like that; all puppy dog eyed. I cupped my breasts and brushed my thumbs over my nipples and was rewarded when Brock growled low in this throat. I watched his hand move from the outside of his shorts to under the waistband. I smiled, feeling innately female knowing he was touching himself in reaction to watching me. Heat unfurled in my stomach, and I rolled my nipples between my thumbs and forefingers, feeling a rush of pleasure as my skin grew more sensitive.

“Are you wet for me?” Brock asked. “Touch yourself, baby. Tell me.”

I kept one hand on my breast as the other moved between my legs. My fingers parted my folds, sliding in between. I wasn't as wet as I'd thought I'd be, but there was enough to slick my fingers as I moved them back up to spread the moisture and put pressure on my clit.

“Are you wet for me?” he asked again. “Come on, talk to me. Tell me, if I was there, could I slide right into that tight little cunt of yours?”

“Yes,” I hissed out the word as I slipped a finger inside.

“You'd like that, wouldn't you?” Brock's breathing was getting heavier and I saw his hand moving faster. “You like it when I take you hard and fast, fuck you until it hurts.”

It was no longer a question and I wasn't sure what he wanted me to say. My fingers moved back to my clit, trying to move myself along. I was hoping to turn my arousal into an orgasm and release some of this pent-up energy and stress. At least it didn't seem like Brock needed me to say much of anything. He was doing just fine on his own. I let his words wash over me, trying to use what he was saying to further turn me on.

“If you were here, I'd have you ride me. Watch those titties bounce. Love that.”

I moaned; no other response seemed necessary.

“Are you fingering yourself?” he asked suddenly. “Playing with yourself?”

With a start, I realized his eyes were closed.

“Yes.” I was still touching myself, but my movements slowed. I didn't know if it was just the whole over-the-computer thing or the way Brock was talking, but I wasn't really feeling it anymore.

“I wanna see you come.” His eyes opened. “Make yourself come for me.”

I stared at him for a moment, but he didn't seem to notice my hesitation as he pulled his cock from his shorts. His hand was stroking faster as he waited. Suddenly, I just wanted to be done so we could talk. I leaned back and spread my legs, giving him a good view of what I was doing. I might not have been the kind of person who was comfortable with casual nudity, but when it came to sex, once we'd already been together a couple times, something like this wasn't exactly embarrassing. Besides, I thought as I began to slide my finger in and out of my pussy; it wasn't like I was really making myself vulnerable here.

I began to moan and breathe faster, twisting my face into faux ecstasy.

This was as much acting as what I did on stage at the club.

I made myself go long enough to be believable before calling out his name. He wasn't far behind me, grunting as he came. He gave me a lazy smile as I excused myself to clean up and I assumed he'd do the same. When I returned, I was prepared to tell him I wouldn't be making a choice about Philadelphia until he came to see me in Vegas, proving he was the kind of man I could trust to keep his word.

He was gone.

I considered calling him back, but my heart wasn't in it. My pussy ached from not being able to relieve my tension, and I was starting to get a headache. I'd had a horrible day at work, and I was still fuckin’ miserable from this heat. All in all, I decided it was best to chalk the day up to a total loss, take a cold shower and go to bed.