Authors: Faye Avalon
He was grateful of course, but each
of his siblings had been through a tough time in one way or another and he felt
for them all. Both his brothers had gone through a divorce, much to his
parents’ angst, and his sister’s marriage was heading that way.
But they’d won out during his
protestations about the bar and now all he could do was accept his good fortune.
He glanced at his two most popular
barmen mixing cocktails, and, satisfied they had it covered, he slipped behind
the bar and out through the back to the small lobby. He pushed the door,
leaving it open a crack so he could keep an eye on the bar and be ready to lend
a hand if things got really busy.
He pulled his cell from his trouser
pocket and pushed the button for the number he’d put on speed dial late last
night.
He started to frown when it rang
several times before a sleepy voice answered with a husky, “Hello?” Marco
glanced at his watch. Shit. It was after ten. He hadn’t realized. “Did I wake
you?”
There was only a slight hesitation.
“Not really. I fell asleep watching some movie on TV.”
He liked that Beth hadn’t asked who
was calling. He liked even more that she didn’t sound pissed or irritated.
“Hard day?”
“A bit.” She sighed heavily. “We had
some kittens brought in today. They were in a really bad way. The vet managed
to stabilize and save three of them, but we lost the other two.”
Now he heard sorrow in her voice and
beneath it anger. “I’m sorry. Who found them?”
“A refuse collector. They were in a
rubbish bin. Thankfully, he heard one of them mewing.”
Marco felt the anger rise in his own
chest. Okay. He wasn’t the world’s greatest animal lover, but he found it hard
to stomach that there were some sick bastards around who seemed to take
pleasure in letting defenseless animals suffer. “It’s good that you managed to
save three.”
“That’s what I keep telling myself.
Have to think positive, right?”
“Keep thinking those kitties are
destined to have a happy future now, pampered by some adoring owner who feeds
them fish, lets them play with balls of wool, and let’s them…well, whatever
else cats like to do.”
She laughed, pleasing him. “What
about you? What’s your day been like?”
“Better than yours by the sound of
it. Few staff timetabling issues, order that didn’t turn up.” He wanted to tell
her that he’d spent a large portion of the morning trying to book a stripper
for Ethan’s main stag night, but decided it was something he didn’t need to
confess to a woman he had the hots for.
“I can hear voices, music. Are you
working?”
“Slipped out for a minute. I wanted
to check if we’re still on for tomorrow.”
There was another slight hesitation,
a moment of silence during which his heart stopped.
When she answered in the
affirmative, he let out the breath he hadn’t been aware he’d been holding. “Great.”
He leaned against the wall, unwilling to let her go just yet. He liked hearing
the sound of her voice and he wanted to make sure some of the sadness had
dissipated before they said goodnight. He glanced at the bar through the crack
of the door. “What are you doing now?”
“I told you. Watching some movie on
TV.”
“So bad that it sent you to sleep.”
She laughed. “That’s true. Perhaps
I’ll get ready for bed.”
He thought about her stripping off
her clothes, climbing naked into bed, all that thick chestnut hair spread
across her pillow. “What are you wearing?”
She laughed again, but there was
still a melancholy lilt to her tone. “Sweats.”
“What color?”
“Gray.”
“Bet you look hot in those gray
sweats.”
Another laugh, lighter this time.
“Hot wouldn’t be the word that springs to mind.”
He had to close his eyes against the
image that filled his head. He envisioned Beth in tight fitting sweats that
showcased her soft, firm ass. “Do you have a hands-free phone?”
“Yes.”
Good. Now she sounded wary, but a
hint of humor edged around her reply.
“Take it up to your bedroom.”
She didn’t say anything, but seconds
later the background chatter went silent and he realized she’d turned off the
TV. There was a light rustling as she walked upstairs.
“I’m in my bedroom.”
Hell. He couldn’t believe he was
doing this. It wasn’t the first time he’d indulged in phone sex, but that was
usually after he’d enjoyed the real thing once or twice with the woman. Yet
here he was about to put himself through the misery of being out of touching
distance with Beth, while he instructed her to do to herself the very things he
damn well ached to do to her in person.
“Sit on the bed.”
Seconds later, “I’m sitting.”
“Okay.” Shit, he had to take a
minute. His pulse had started to race and heat soared through his bloodstream.
“Put down the phone and take off your top.”
Silence. Then, “Done.”
His cock pushed against the seam of
his jeans. “Take off your pants. Slowly.”
He thought he heard her breath
hitch, but it might have been his. As instructed, she took longer this time and
he hoped to hell she wasn’t about to back out.
“They’re off.”
Blood raced in his veins. “Are you naked?”
“Not quite. I still have panties
on.”
Fuck. “What colour?”
“White.”
He had an image of her. All that
milky skin with only white panties covering her mound. “Describe them.”
She drew in a breath. “They’re plain
white, with lace around the edges. High legged and they come to just below my
navel.”
“Put your fingers between your
legs.” When she didn’t answer, he prompted, “Beth?”
“I’m here. And I’ve done as you
said.”
“Are you damp?”
“Yes.”
Holy hell. “Lie back on the bed.”
A rustle, a creak. “I’m lying back.”
He jolted as he thought someone
called his name from the bar, then damn near cried with relief when he realized
he’d been mistaken. He had to take a couple of steadying breaths.
“Marco?”
“Is your hair down?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Take off your panties.”
She must have kept the phone to her
ear because he heard her jerky breaths as she disposed of the panties, then a
sigh as he assumed she lay back against the sheets.
Marco glanced through the door
crack, then pushed the door closed and turned his back to it. If they needed
any help in the bar, they could damn well swing for it until he was through
with Beth. “Are you naked now?”
He heard her swallow. “Yes.
Completely.”
“Left or right handed?”
“Right.”
“Put the phone in your left hand and
touch your breast with your right. Cup it, like I did last night.”
He heard a little hitch of her
breath and knew she was doing as he’d instructed. “Use your thumb, rub it
across your nipple.”
When she gave an “mmm” sound, Marco
had to widen his stance to accommodate the hard-on that was demanding exit from
his jeans. “How does that feel?”
“Good. Really good.”
“Wet your right forefinger…trail it
down your throat…around your breasts…dip it into your navel…” Marco gave out
his instructions, his voice growing huskier with each syllable. He had to clear
his throat a couple of times as he imagined the trail of Beth’s finger and
wished to heaven it was his. “Where’s your hand now?”
“On my stomach.”
Her own voice was scratchy, her
breath catching. He wanted to ask her if her pussy was covered with that silky
dark hair or if she was bare, but decided it was something he wanted to find
out for himself.
Tomorrow.
“Slide it lower. Touch your pussy.”
“Oh…”
Fuck. He was going to lose it. “Push
it into your slit,
bella
. Imagine
it’s me.”
She gave a mewling sound, her breath
coming faster and shallower now. “Oh God. Marco.”
“Harder,” he demanded. “Imagine it’s
me fucking you.”
Unable to resist any longer, Marco
slid his zip and reached inside for his cock. He began pumping himself in time
to Beth’s frantic breathing.
“Marco…” She went silent, her
breathing ceased, and he knew she came.
He kept pumping himself, his cock so
damn hard he knew he wouldn’t get it back in his pants unless he found relief.
Seconds later, cum spurted onto his
stomach and as his legs threatened to give way he pushed himself against the
wall. “Shit.”
“Marco?”
“Yeah.” He sucked in air. “I’m
here.”
“Good.” She made a purring sound and
he knew she was stretched out in a post-orgasmic haze. “I’ve never done that
before.”
She sounded sleepy as hell and he
imagined her snuggling into his side, all that warm succulent flesh soft
against him as he drew in her scent, savored her taste.
“Enjoy it?”
“Mmm. Yes. It was… What about you? I
never said anything to—”
“You didn’t need to. Just thinking
about you lying there naked, touching yourself when and where I told you got me
off.”
“Oh. Good.”
Since he realized he was losing her
to sleep, he knew he had to speak fast. “Close your eyes now and dream about
what I’m going to do to you when I get you naked. Then it’ll be my fingers, my
mouth, my cock.”
She purred down the phone. “Marco?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m out of practice. It’s been a
long time since I had sex.”
Why the fuck did that please him so
damn much? “We’ll take it slow.” He waited a beat. “I’ll pick you up at eight.”
“Okay. Night.”
“Night.”
Marco disengaged but stood staring
at the screen of his phone for several seconds before stuffing it back in his
pocket. She’d never had phone sex before, seemed nervous about having sex with
him. The realization stirred something primal in him and like he had in the
woods, he felt a protective instinct flare in his chest.
He’d been glad he’d taken her mind
off the troubles of her day and guessed she’d now get some sleep. Hell, she’d
need it with what he had in mind for tomorrow night. If she was anywhere near
as responsive when he got his hands on her as she had been tonight, he was in
for one fine ride.
He zipped his jeans before heading upstairs
to shower and change.
Tomorrow, until eight came around,
was going to be a damn long day.
****
Beth needed to visit the bathroom,
but she couldn’t bear to move. She was still in a post climax stupor, and she
didn’t want to break the spell Marco had woven.
All the while he’d been instructing
her in the never before attempted delights of phone sex, she’d imagined him
touching her. It was his fingers sliding over her nipples, his hands travelling
down her body. It was his hard length, so much thicker and harder than her own
fingers, sliding into her pussy and working her until she came.
Hmm. Who knew that her own touch,
guided by Marco’s resolute instructions delivered in that deep, husky tone,
could be more erotic than Mr. Sparkly buried deep in her vagina?
The man made her come harder, faster
than she’d ever come before simply by using his voice and by making demands.
And she’d gone along with it. Every delicious demand he made she carried out
without challenging him.
When he’d started giving her
instructions, she’d cottoned on to his intentions right away. As soon as he’d
asked her what she was wearing. She could have laughed and fobbed him off, put
a stop to his erotic plans right from the start. But she was turned on by the
very thought of it. Turned on by him.
He’d told her to imagine that it was
his finger, his mouth, his cock inside her. How would that feel? How would
he
feel?
Had he come as well tonight? Or was
he just saying that to appease her. She hoped he had.
When she realized she couldn’t put
off the bathroom visit any longer, Beth hoisted herself from the bed and padded
next door.
Before returning to bed, she took a
moment to look at herself in the mirror. Her face was flushed, her hair tousled,
and her eyes soft, dreamy.
Marco had done that for her. Given
her not only her first experience of phone sex and—wow, where had that been all
her life — but he’d made sure she climaxed.
James had never bothered to check if
she’d climaxed. In fact, she’d often wondered if he’d needed her there at all.
One of those life-sized rubber dolls could have done the job equally well for
him. But if she’d known then what she did now, she might not have been
surprised at his lack of attention.