“Okay,” I murmured to myself, my voice ringing out in the silent cab of my truck like a gunshot. “Okay,” I said again, trying to slow my breathing and sort out the absolute cluster in my head.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I shouted suddenly, my voice box taken over by my dick. He was hard and hurting and a whole lot angry that I’d ended the night where I had. And when he had this much control of my blood, I had a really hard time forming thoughts to explain the situation to him.
I punched my steering wheel, a loud thud echoing throughout the empty space, and immediately regretted it, shaking my hand to ease the sting.
“Relax,” I coached myself as I drove, trying really hard to focus on the road in addition to my one-man show. “You did the right thing. Fast fucking is short term. Groundwork is long term.”
I shook my head in the dim glow of the streetlights and laughed maniacally. “I’m talking to myself out loud. I’m going crazy. It’s official, I’ve fucking lost it.”
Two hands gripped the wheel and tightened, making the leather wrap creak under the stress as I tried to sort myself out, and I looked over my shoulder to double-check the lane I was moving into.
“No, no, it’s okay. You’re not crazy, you’re just crazy about someone. This is normal. Right?”
I laughed to myself.
“Well, I don’t know, Quinn,” I carried on, turning my rants into an actual conversation. “Seeing as we’ve never been in a serious relationship before, I don’t really have a lot of experience with the feeling.”
Good God. How far away do I live again?
I had the sense I wouldn’t be able to stop the madness until I got home and could talk down my cock in another, more physical way.
“Just drive,” I told myself. “Just focus on the road and the assholes on it and the radio—”
I slammed a hand against the console. “Yes, the radio! I just need music to drown out all the thoughts!”
I reached forward immediately and pushed the volume nob to turn it on. AC/DC filled the air, and some of the tightness in my chest released.
“Thunder!” I yelled, singing—more like shouting—along to the song and bopping my head so hard I almost got dizzy. “Thunder!”
Okay, wow. Not a good idea to headbang.
I scaled back the personal violence, but I sang even louder.
It helped a little—for about five songs—until “Sweet Caroline” started to play. Immediately, my mind changed the name to Catharine.
I coached myself to consider personal safety. “No, you idiot. Do not text and drive. Catharine will wait fifteen minutes to hear from you.”
Convinced, I focused back on singing almost aggressively. “Sweeeeeeet Cath-a-rine, bum, bum, bum!”
God help me if someone snuck a surveillance camera into my truck.
The minutes ticked by, one by one, just as slow as the miles, but finally, I made it home.
The hot exhaust snapped lightly as I pulled into my circular drive and shut off the engine, all of the energy in my body draining like I’d opened up a faucet.
I hadn’t realized how exhausted I was, how much I’d really taken out of myself until then. Practice, worrying about the date, having the time of my life with Cat, and then the fucking crazy drive home—I was officially spent.
The temptation to sink farther into the leather and sleep right there in my truck was real, but I knew I’d regret it in the morning.
Heaving the door open with a kick of my foot, I hauled myself out of the truck and trudged up the steps to my front door. I normally parked in the garage, but I’d just had the cement floor in there painted. All of 21 Savage’s rapping about his garage had influenced me to do a little sprucing of my own.
The key slid easily into the lock, and the alarm beeped my arrival until I pulled up the app on my phone and shut it off. Jilly had obviously set it behind me when she’d left.
I reset it for the Stay setting and then backed out of the app, and the little red bubble on my messages caught my attention.
Eyebrows drawn together, I clicked my inbox to open them and went to the top of the list to see what was new.
Two new messages from Catharine sat waiting. Instantly, my energy renewed, exploding like a tossed water balloon in my chest.
Catharine: Um. What?
Catharine: Did you fall and hit your head?
What the fuck? What is she talking about?
Quickly, I scrolled up, hoping to understand. Unfortunately, it all made sense immediately. I’d sent her multiple texts, all in a row, and the content…well. Yeah.
Me: Sweat catheter Buns buns buns
Sweet Jesus. My fucking truck must have voice texted her! I didn’t even know the thing had that fucking capability!
Me: Reaching ouch touching me touching you. so good so good so good
Me: Sweet Catharine!
I scrolled back to the bottom hastily and started typing.
Me: Sorry about that. Neil Diamond, you know? Apparently, my truck took over and texted you while I was doing some of my best vocal work.
Her response was immediate and made my cock jerk.
Catharine: Oh. I thought maybe you were thinking about touching me.
Okay. All right. Sweet Jesus. It was safe to say I was thinking about touching her now.
And to be fair, I’d most definitely been thinking about touching her then too.
Me: I AM. Good God, Cat, believe me, I am. Are you thinking about me touching you?
Catharine: It’s all I can think about.
Fuckkkk. Taking them two at a time, I bounded up my stairs, ran down the hall, flicked on the light switch in my bedroom and dove headfirst into my bed. With a roll and a flop, I made it to my back, but my breath was still as thick as if I were facedown.
Me: Where am I touching you, kitten?
I looked down to my jeans to see if they were going to withstand the challenge my full-mast cock now presented. I thought better of it and undid the button, pushing them off my hips and tossing them on the side of the bed.
Pretty soon, I was going to need them to be gone anyway.
I palmed my dick over my boxer briefs and squeezed.
My phone lay still in my palm, so I moved my fingers over the keyboard again.
Me: Don’t be bashful, baby. Swear to God, you’re safe with me. Tell me what you’re picturing.
Catharine: I want to…but…I don’t know how to do this.
I’d been trying to give her the lead, just to make sure I didn’t make her uncomfortable, but she’d handed me the reins. I could do that and handle her with care.
Me: Okay, Kitty Cat. Are you on your bed? What are you wearing?
Catharine: Yes… And pajamas.
I smiled and shook my head before working my fingers over the keyboard furiously as I bit into my bottom lip.
Me: Good. Take them off. In fact, take everything off. I need to see your perfect pussy.
Catharine: Oh God.
Nearly a minute passed by, and I started to wonder if she’d lost the nerve, but then, another text rang through.
Catharine: Okay, I’m naked.
Sweet fucking hell. I groaned and pinched the head of my cock through the fabric. He was a little too willing and a little too ready, but if this was going to be good for her, he needed to slow the fuck down.
Me: Are you wet for me? Aching?
Catharine: Yes.
Me: Touch yourself. Take those perfect, pink-tipped fingers and rub a sweet circle around your clit, baby. Can you feel yourself on your fingers? Slick and hot for my cock?
Catharine: God, Quinn.
Me: Yeah, kitten. I’m right here. Stick a finger inside, let your perfect pussy suck it in deep. Tell me how it feels.
Catharine: Soft. Warm.
My eyes tried to roll back in my head as I pictured it perfectly.
Me: I bet it is. I bet it tastes like the sweetest fucking honey too. Tell me. Take your finger out and suck it. Tell me if you taste good.
Catharine: Oh my God.
Me: Tell me, Cat. Tell me how good you taste. I’m dying. I want to eat you so bad it’s painful.
I waited—not at all fucking patiently—as I imagined her finishing herself off. The seconds turned into a minute, and I thought I would die from the anticipation.
Catharine: I…well, finished. I can’t believe how good that felt. You know, without you even here.
I totally fucking understood the sentiment.
Now, I had to catch up. I shoved my underwear off and grabbed myself, hot skin against the palm of my hand.
Hard and sweet, I stroked my cock as I pictured her hand taking the place of my own. On her knees between mine, which I held cocked high, hunched back on her heels while her breasts swayed in my line of sight.
Fuck, she’s perfect.
Harder I stroked as my imaginary Cat licked her lips and moaned, thinking about swallowing my whole cock deep in her throat.
The silence in my bedroom came in broken sections, the sound of my groaning pants filling the gaps as I worked my hand over myself, paying special attention to the top.
I wondered if sweet Cat would be shy as she took me in her grip, or if she’d find a confidence she kept special for the bedroom. Would she be wild like her name or would she purr softly?
God, I had to know.
My balls ached and swelled, pulsing in my other hand as I gripped them hard and squeezed, rolling them between my fingers and giving them a hard tug.
Fuck yeah, I told imaginary Catharine, reaching forward in my mind to tweak one of her perfect brown nipples. Put me inside that perfect pussy.
Wet, bare, and glistening, she’d climbed up higher, straddling my thighs with her own so her juice would run all over my balls while she stroked my cock.
Goddamn, I could punch myself in the nutsac for leaving her apartment tonight.
Faster and faster, up and down I stoked, pulling at the head like the mouth of her pussy would until I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Fuckkkk, Cat!” I shouted into the empty space, shooting a hot stream of come all over my hand and onto the ridges and planes of my straining abdomen.
I couldn’t even bring myself to clean up before reaching for my phone with the only part of me not slick with come.
Still breathing heavily, I typed.
Me: I know. I need to see you again. Tell me when I can see you again, and make it soon.
Her reply came quickly, and I hoped that was a sign she was just as desperate as I was now that she’d had the teeniest of tastes.
Catharine: Yes. Soon, please…
Another text came a moment later.
Catharine: Call me tomorrow and I’ll tell you my flight schedule? My brain is all 2 + 2 = Potato right now thanks to that delicious orgasm.
A soft chuckle left my lips. God, she is something.
Me: You got it. Sweet dreams, kitten.
Soon, I promised in my head. I’ll see you soon, and we’ll both be naked in person.