Page 28 of Revelry (Cowgirls Do It Better #2)

Tate

“Idiot!” I snapped, frustrated with myself again for letting Gertrude walk out of that shower unsatisfied.

I turned over in bed, trying to get away from the image of her wet and needy.

Trying to will away the erection that hadn’t gone down since this afternoon when we’d gotten too close.

Once again, I’d found myself in a situation where I was ready to ravage her and couldn’t.

It was getting frustrating. I was getting frustrated.

We clearly had chemistry that was bubbling up and we both wanted each other. I knew why I was fighting it but why was she? And why did it annoy me that she was holding back? Gertrude didn’t hold back with anything, ever, so what gives?

I heard a low sigh through the wall and closed my eyes, inhaling deeply to calm myself.

I’d been hearing that a lot recently, Gertrude sighing in her sleep.

At least she was sleeping soundly while I was on the other side of the wall stressed and aroused.

I clicked my fingers three times to break the pattern of thoughts, but it didn’t help.

She sighed again, louder this time and my hard dick pulsed in my shorts, all hey, I’m here!

I knew he was there, he hadn’t left for hours.

I put both hands behind my head to stop from reaching in my shorts at the sound of Gertrude’s next sigh.

Although this one was a little breathier. And then there was a muffled moan.

I bolted upright in bed.

I’d heard that moan before.

“Holy shit,” I murmured, staring at the wall behind me. “She’s not sighing in her sleep. She’s not asleep at all!” My pulse pounded because now I knew what all those sighs were, what that moan was.

She was touching herself.

My dick pulsed again, extra hard.

I didn’t know what to do so I just stared at the wall. Should I even do anything? What could I do?

Nothing. That’s the answer, nothing.

But then I heard another moan, I could have sworn I heard my name. I crammed my ear up to the wall, desperate to hear more but it didn’t help.

“Stop it,” I scolded myself. She was doing something very private, and I shouldn’t be eavesdropping.

Okay, she definitely moaned my name that time.

I heard it. Clear as day.

I was reaching for my phone before I could talk myself out of it.

Me: You okay next door?

I heard her phone beep through the wall. Man, the walls really were thin.

Gertrude: Yep!

Gertrude: All good!

Gertrude: Why?

I put my phone down, feeling guilty. What was I doing? Why was I trying to get involved? I didn’t even know if she was doing that , I just had a suspicion. It’s none of my business.

Me: Oh just thought I heard something, never mind. Night.

Gertrude: Night!

I put my phone down again but was strangely unsatisfied, I wanted to keep talking to her. I kinda missed her even though I only saw her a few hours ago. How weird was that?

Me: Do you put exclamation marks after everything?

Gertrude: Yep!

Gertrude: Anyway if that’s everything, I’m gonna go back to sleep!

I scoffed loudly, “Oh yeah, like you were sleeping!” Then clamped a hand over my mouth, I was still pressed up against the wall. I heard her gasp, and slapped a hand to my forehead.

“Idiot!” I hissed.

I looked back at my phone and saw she was typing.

Gertrude: I heard that!

Me: I know you heard that.

Gertrude: I know you know that I know you heard that!

There was a beat. Neither of us replied and I wanted to goad her, I wanted her chaos all around me. Her online status taunted me, teased me, she wanted more too.

We were playing with fire.

Flirting with it.

So I threw us into the flames.

Me: Shall we discuss what you were *really* doing, Gertrude?

I hit send before I could talk myself out of it and waited. Waited so long I thought I’d crossed a line and was frantically thinking of how I could backtrack without ruining the fun we were having.

Gertrude: What I was really doing?

Typing.

Gertrude: Or who I was thinking about while doing it?

I cursed, my phone slipping from my grasp. I squeezed my eyes shut, pulse pounding in time with my cock. My phone beeped and I snatched for it.

Gertrude: You heard your name.

Me: I may or may not have heard some heavy breathing and a moaned Tate.

Gertrude: And?

Gertrude: Thoughts?

Gertrude: Feelings?

Gertrude: Comments?

I thought about it. What did I really want out of this?

Me: I want you to keep going.

Gertrude: That’s going to be difficult while messaging you too.

She had a point, but I was a desperate man and a problem solver at heart, so I found a solution.

I called her.

“Tate?” Her breathy voice flowed right into my ear, and I moaned softly. “What are you doing?”

“I thought of some fun we could have,” I replied, my hand sliding down my chest, my skin pulled tight with arousal.

“I don’t know, Tate.”

“It doesn’t require either of us leaving our beds, interested?”

“Well, when you put it like that,” she giggled and damn that giggle had me smiling.

“Then put me on loudspeaker and continue,” I said.

There was a muffled noise before I heard her say, “Okay!”

A satisfied smirk worked its way onto my lips at her eagerness.

“What were you thinking about?”

“Thinking about?”

I think the fact that she couldn’t see me made me more confident, made me bolder. “While you played with yourself, Gertrude.”

There was a small noise over the line, something between a squeak and a moan. “You.”

A satisfied rumble worked free from my chest. Something primal sparked to life at the idea of her touching herself while thinking about me. I wanted to beat my chest like a damn ape.

“What was I doing?” My hand rested over my cock, thick and hard and so hot, ready for release.

There was a small intake of breath before she whispered. “Using your mouth on me.”

I squeezed my dick, hard. “Fuck, Gertrude. I just bet you’d taste so fucking sweet.”

“Oh my God, Tate!” she cried, and again I thought I’d gone too far. I opened my mouth to apologize but a whimper came down the line, followed by a shaky exhale that shot straight through me.

“Where are you fingers, Gertrude?” I growled.

“Inside me,” she gasped. I could hear our conversation twice, through the phone and through the wall and it was like surround-sound, attacking me from all angles and driving my need higher.

“Are you wet?”

“Yes.”

“I want to hear it,” I grunted like an animal, my hand buried in my shorts and I hissed when I gripped my scalding hot flesh.

I stroked slowly, imagining it was her small hand wrapped around me, taking tentative strokes.

There was a pause before I heard the sound of her wetness as she worked her fingers in and out of herself.

“Tate,” she sighed, like she’d done earlier only now I was hearing the full effect, and it nearly tipped me over the edge.

“Has anyone used their mouth on you before?”

“No, never.”

“Good,” I grunted again. “I’ll be the first.” Both of us ignored the fact that I was talking like it would really happen.

The fact that it couldn’t happen had a massive wave of disappointment crashing over me.

Now I wanted nothing more than to taste Gertrude, watch her come apart on my tongue and flood my mouth.

“More, Tate. Give me more,” she panted.

“I’d lick you until you were screaming, your hands tugging my hair as you pull me up, begging me to fuck you.”

“Yes,” she hissed. “More!”

I was stroking myself in earnest now. My need too high, my cock too hard and ready to explode at the thought of one thing; Gertrude on her knees, her pink mouth ready and waiting.

“I’d fuck you nice and slow Gertrude, so you could feel every stroke, every second of me inside you. You’d beg me to go faster but I wouldn’t. I’d slow it down even more, until you couldn’t take it. Then I’d pound into you, fucking you hard and fast until you’re screaming.”

“Yes.”

“I’d pull out and push you to your knees and you’d open that pretty mouth nice and wide and swallow me down.” I was panting, stroking myself harder, imagining it was her pussy gripping me tight.

“Tate, I’m going to…ohhhh.” I heard her ragged breaths through the phone, heard a palm slap the wall between us, and then an uneven exhale. Just the sound of her orgasming sent me over the edge. I coated my stomach in hot spurts, stuttering from the intensity and struggling to get my breath back.

Looking at the mess I’d made, I felt the first stirrings of panic but for the first time ever, I was too blissed out to care.

“Tate, that was…” she trailed off.

“Yeah,” I replied, my voice uneven.

We both sighed into the phone, and I waited for the awkwardness to settle over us. But it didn’t.

“I like your idea of fun,” she joked.

“Me too.” I laughed. “I had fun today, on the hike,” I added, because I didn’t know what else to say and wasn’t ready to end the call.

When had I gotten so needy?

“Me too. I’ll start planning the next item on our Fagenda,” she giggled.

“Sounds good. But maybe something less frostbitey?”

“Spoilsport. Night Tate,” she whispered.

“Good night, Gertrude.”