“Jesus,” he whispers. “Can you—” he squeezes his eyes closed before they fly open again, like he’s afraid to miss something. “Can you get closer? I don’t mean to be so demanding, but your tits—” “Yeah?” I get on my knees and crawl toward the camera. I run my hands over my breasts and push them together. Dallas groans, and I bite back a smile. “You like them? I never pegged you for a boob guy.” “With you, I don’t give a shit what it is. Your fucking elbow turns me on.” “There’s probably a market for that.” His chuckle is soft and light, and god, I wish he were here with me right now.
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