Playing Knotty by Elia Winters Read Free Book Online

stupid. When had she started getting nervous talking to Ian? Probably when she’d started masturbating to thoughts of him.
    â€œI pay her. It’s not like she has to take her clothes off for these workshops. It’s a pretty easy gig. She just sits there and lets me . . . tie her up.”
    Emma pressed her lips together to keep from making a noise; the whimper that had risen in the back of her throat at that idea was completely shameless. She realized her hand was resting right inside the waistband of her pajama pants and underwear, fingertips teasing against the soft curls. Oh, fuck, what was she doing? This was . . . out of control. Completely inexcusable. They were having a normal conversation, for crying out loud.
    â€œOh,” she managed after far too long a period of silence. She could faintly hear him breathing, and she slid her hand down an inch lower, brushing lightly at the V of her thighs, heart positively racing. This was not something she did. It was crossing a line, more than one line, probably, but with a fingertip teasing her clit, she couldn’t bring herself to care.
    â€œNow, the advanced classes are different.” Ian’s voice might have been lower, or she might have been imagining it. “In those classes, I handle all kinds of elaborate ties. Sometimes my model needs to take some of her clothes off.”
    â€œYes, I saw. I . . . went to your website.” The sentence slipped out in breathy confession, her finger rubbing more deliberately, and fuck it all if this wasn’t the hottest thing she’d done in distant memory. “To see what you do. What to expect. At . . . at my shop.”
    She heard him breathe in, a faint inhale that was a touch louder than normal. “And what did you think?”
    â€œI think . . . it seems like . . .” Emma couldn’t seem to find the right words; she eased off of her clit, hovering too close to climax, body tensing and searching for release. “The people participating really seem to enjoy it.”
    â€œYes, they do.”
    Was Emma supposed to say something else? She wanted to keep touching herself, but if she did, she was going to come with him on the phone, and there was no way she could hide that. It had been so long since she’d felt like this, her body loose and quivery and sensitized, hips rolling ever so slightly, seeking contact. The silence stretched on, but then Ian broke it, his voice quiet.
    â€œAnd did you enjoy it?”
    Emma barely managed not to moan, because that question was in no way innocuous. He was flirting with her. Oh, God, did he know what she was doing, fingers pressed between her legs? She closed her eyes and tried to keep her voice steady while her heart hammered against her ribs. “It was unique.”
    It wasn’t an answer, and he knew it, but he didn’t push her any further. “You can come to the workshop, if you want.”
    â€œMaybe. We’ll . . . we’ll see.” She rubbed again, barely enough to tease, fingers sliding slick between her folds.
    â€œAll right.”
    Emma needed him off the phone right then. “I’ll see you in a couple of weeks, then. The twenty-fifth.”
    Ian didn’t say anything for a moment. Had he hung up? Was he not expecting the dismissal? Did he think this conversation was going to continue? “Right. I’ll . . . see you then, Emma.”
    Emma barely managed to hang up before she was rubbing hard against her clit and coming, a tumbling flood of sensation and pleasure that made her arch her back and cry out into the emptiness of her apartment.
    Collapsing back onto the couch, she took a moment to gather herself before the feelings of guilt washed over her. What if he knew?
    The embarrassment still fresh, now mixed with sleepy post-orgasmic lassitude, Emma got up to microwave her soup that had gone cold.

Chapter 7

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