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And yeah...it’s doing things to me that I really shouldn’t be thinking about right now.

Hunter’s voice softens, the teasing falling away.

"Hey," he says gently. "You okay?"

I swallow hard. "Yeah, I'm... I'm fine. Just, um, processing, I guess."

He chuckles. "Well, take your time. I'm not going anywhere." His voice drops an octave, smooth and sinful. "At least, not the fun parts. Do you like your present? It’s an upgrade from that tiny thing in your drawer, right?"

I glance down at the dildo still in my hands, fighting a smile.

Now he’s fishing for compliments.

"I’m not sure..." I tease. "Maybe we should do a measuring test to be sure which one’s bigger."

He groans, like I just stabbed him in the heart.

"You know how to cut a man straight to the core."

I bite back a laugh. "Oh God, I’m sorry. I’m teasing."

"No, no," he says dryly. "I like it. Love being emasculated before my flight."

I glance down at the dildo still in my hands, fighting a wicked smile.

He’s clearly waiting for praise—and maybe something else.

"I’m not sure..." I tease. "Might need to take it for a spin before I give a full review."

There’s a sharp inhale on the other end of the line.

"You’re killing me," he mutters. "You’re seriously going to make me hard in a terminal full of families, old ladies, and neck pillows?"

I laugh quietly, brushing my fingers up the length of the toy again, slower this time.

"That depends," I murmur. "Are you going to talk me through it?"

I can hear him rustling around like he’s moving. “First, let me find a quiet corner in this godforsaken packed airport.”

There’s a beat of silence for a moment as I wait for him to find a spot, my body already heating up at the idea of having phone sex with Hunter while he can’t do anything to take care of himself.

Then his voice drops—low, rough, and intimate enough to make my knees weak.

"Get in bed," he says. "Keep the phone on speaker."

I don’t even hesitate.

I head for my bedroom, the house suddenly feeling warmer, smaller, tighter around me. I flick off the bedside lamp and crawl under the covers, placing the phone on the pillow beside me. The vibrator—his vibrator—is still in my hand, glittering in the dim light.

"Clothes off?" I ask.

"Mm-hmm. Everything. And lay on my side of the bed. I want to know you’re coming all over my side of the sheets."

I slide my tank top over my head, shiver as the cool air kisses my skin, and push my panties down my thighs. The sheets catch against my bare legs as I settle back, heart pounding.

"Tell me what you’re doing," he says, voice a soft growl now. "Walk me through it."

"I’m lying on your side of the bed..." I say, a little breathless. "Naked. Thinking about how good you felt inside me last week. Wondering if this thing you made actually lives up to the real thing."

He groans quietly, trying to muffle it back from the other passengers within earshot. “Are you wet?”

I drag my finger through my arousal. Wetter than I even realized. Just the sound of his voice is enough to get me dripping. “Yes.”

"Wrap your hand around it. Slide it through those sweet pussy lips. Get it nice and wet for me first."

I wrap my fingers around the toy, the familiar weight making me wish it was him in real life instead.

His voice in my ear is everything—commanding, sinful, and somehow still laced with that teasing affection that always ruins me.

"Slow. Go slow. I want you aching for it."

I do exactly as he says—sliding it between my thighs, letting it brush against me, teasing my entrance. My hips lift without meaning to.

“Now, put me inside—just the tip—teasing that pussy. You don’t get the whole thing yet. Not until you beg.”

I moan as I press the vibrator inside of me—Hunter’s tip spreading me open—the stretch feels so good, but I know from experience how thick the rest of his shaft is.

“Now swirl my tip inside of you and then pull out a little before pushing me back in.”

“Hunter…” I mutter as I do as he instructs.

“You want more don’t you?” He phrases it as a question, but we both know I need more.

I make a muffled “yes” sound.

“Are you wet enough to take all of me?”

“Mm-hmm…” I tell him.

“Beg, Peyton.”

“ Please .”

"That’s what I want to hear. Good girl… Now push me in. All the way. Let me hear you."

A soft moan escapes my lips as I sink it inside, the stretch surprisingly familiar.

"Holy shit," I breathe. "You weren’t kidding. This thing’s...accurate."

"Now you’re just stroking my ego," he rasps, but I can hear the strain in his voice. "How wet are you?"

"Soaked."

"Good. Work that little body until you can’t think straight."

His voice guides me, patient but filthy, every word fanning the fire building in my core. I move with his instructions, chasing the high he’s painting for me with nothing but his voice.

And when I finally come—I cry out—his name is the only thing on my lips.

After a beat, all I can hear is my shaky breath and the subtle crackle of the airport overhead speaker through the phone.

Hunter makes a rough exhale.

"Goddamn, I’m hard as a rock and have nowhere to go."

"You started it," I whisper, chest rising and falling fast. "Next time, don’t leave your cock lying around."

A beat of laughter breaks through the phone line, and then his voice drops into that smile I can feel even across the country.

"That was your retaliation, wasn’t it?"

"Maybe."

"You’re evil."

"And you love it."

There’s another pause, and then I hear a flight being announced over the speaker.

"They're boarding my flight," he says reluctantly. "I’ll text you when I get to my hotel. Night, Peyton."

I should say something normal. Something casual.

But instead, I smile wickedly at the glittering turquoise cock in my hand, and say sweetly, "Does phone sex count against rule number one? Because that’s the best I’ve ever had."

There’s a rough inhale on the other end of the line. A muttered curse.

"Goddamn it," he growls. "I’m standing in line at my gate, and now I have to adjust myself in public."

Laughter bubbles up in my throat as I imagine him, flustered and hard, trying to casually shield himself from the families and businessmen waiting for boarding.

"Serves you right," I say, grinning.

We say our quick goodbyes and then the call cuts off, and I’m left alone with my racing heart and the obscene gift in my hand.

I stare at it for a long moment, fingers lightly tracing the smooth contours, my mind spinning faster than it should. This was supposed to be pretend. Clean. Professional.

And now? I’m in bed, clutching a dildo modeled after the man I swore I wouldn’t fall for.

The thing is...I don’t want the imposter.

I want the real thing, but I’m not supposed to.

I walk to my bathroom and clean it, then stow it back in my nightstand for future use with zero interest in finding my old vibrator that he hid. Not when I have “him” to use whenever I want.

A few minutes later, a text comes through.

Hunter: Just had to lie to a gate agent about the "bulge in my pants." Apparently, they don’t waive baggage fees for emotional support erections. Hope you're satisfied, Collins.

Peyton: I’m very satisfied. Your gift made sure of that. Also, next time, maybe don’t leave me a replica of your cock if you don’t want consequences.

Hunter: Just wait. Retaliation is coming.

Peyton: Is coming? I’m pretty sure your glittery stunt double already came. I was pretty thorough…in all three speeds and with a backup battery.

Hunter: I’m glad at least one of my cocks gets to slide past rule number one. Lucky fucker.

Peyton: Let me know when you’re rechargeable too, Reed.

Hunter: *searching for human solar panels*

I laugh and then type back, imagining him taking his seat after stowing his belongings in the overhead compartment.

Peyton: Have a safe flight.

And if this fake relationship keeps heading in this dangerously real direction... I’m going to need more drawer space and a lot more backup batteries.

My phone dings again, and my heart thumps against my chest. I grab it to see Hunter’s reply, but it’s not Hunter—it’s an email from Rebecca.

Peyton,

The second interview was a huge success! But the network wants the New Jersey story. Can you deliver on this?

I blow out a frustrated breath. The network wants the one thing that Hunter won’t give me, and by pushing him, it threatens the possibility of things between us turning real.

I want this network deal. I’ve been working toward this for years, a way to honor my father’s memory. But is losing Hunter worth it?