I don’t. I prefer the few days when my knee would knock into his at night, when he’d roll over and drape a thick arm over my waist. I miss the kisses—the softest, most innocent ones, and the ones when we both tested the boundaries.

Bringing my hand up, I trace my lips.

“Did you fall asleep?” I ask.

“No. I’m just relaxed knowing you’re there,” Fitz says. “Safe at home in our bed.”

Our bed does something to me.

“It’s lonely without you,” I admit, shutting my eyes.

“Scoot over then.” Fitz hums. “Pretend I’m there.”

My eyes fling open.

He jokingly adds in a deep voice, “I know you’re on my side anyway.”

Any hope I had plummets. “It does smell like you. I haven’t changed the sheets yet.”

“Do you know my favorite smell?”

“What?” I ask.

Fitz’s voice dips lower. “You. On my skin. Every morning when I got out of bed last week, I smelled you on me. Drives me wild.”

I shut my eyes. “I know that feeling.”

“I bet there’s something you don’t know.”

Leaning back, I rest my hand on my lower stomach. “Try me.”

“I’m touching myself.”

I bite down on my lip to keep in the whimper. “But I want to touch you.”

“How?”

“So many ways,” I begin. My fingers twitch against my stomach, and I pull up Fitz’s sweatshirt I’ve paired with only underwear.

“Like I’m touching myself now?” Fitz asks. “Do you want to stroke me, Parker?”

“Yes,” I breathe out, shutting my eyes. “I loved how you felt in my hand. Thick. Warm.”

Fitz takes a deep breath. “Fuck.”

My fingertips brush the elastic and slip under, and I shiver when I find my clit swollen and aching. I’m tingling from head to toe as I begin to trace lazy, firm circles around it.

“Tell me. Tell me what you’d do. Would you get on your knees for me?”

Tucking the phone against my ear, I drag my now free hand to my chest. “Yes.”

“Run your tongue along the tip?”

“Y-yes.” My tongue sneaks out of my mouth, wanting to do that but settles for my lips. “I want to lick you. Top to bottom.”

Fitz’s breathing grows stronger, and there’s something about that, about imagining the way his broad chest begins to rise and fall quickly, that makes my hand in my shorts move a little faster as well. “Parker…”

“Can you see me?” I ask. “Looking up from you with my lips around your cock?”

Fitz hisses. “You’d never look prettier than when your mouth is full of me. God damn.”

“Mmm.” I imagine the moment—quiet, intimate, but so god damn sexy. “The way you’d push my hair back and tell me I’m doing a good job.”