Authors: Janelle Denison
“Oh, shit…
I’m coming.”
His gruff oath rolled into a deep grunt and a harsh, hissing exhale of breath. Then, a long, low groan of satisfaction.
Liz had been so wrapped up in the fantasy, it took her a few extra seconds to resurface from their virtual tryst. The sensual haze clouding her mind dissipated bit by bit as her surroundings came back into focus, reminding her that she wasn’t in an intimate setting with Steve but in a small, warm, dingy room—half dressed and excruciatingly aroused.
She found herself both fascinated and miffed that he’d actually climaxed. Or had he? “Did you really …?”
“Yeah, I really did,” he muttered. “And I can’t begin to tell you how badly I needed that, since I’ve been walking around with an erection ever since you left my office this afternoon.”
She knew exactly how he felt, because her body was still in that tense state of discontent, burning as though she were in the throes of a growing fever.
“By the way, your shift is over.”
“Oh.” She glanced at her watch and realized it was three minutes after midnight. Surely he wasn’t going to leave her so … unsatisfied?
“I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”
=>Guess so.
She blinked, feeling entirely disappointed and disillusioned by his abrupt farewell after what had just happened between them. “Sure.”
Disconnecting the call, she took off her headset and
straightened her clothes, unable to believe the rogue had slaked his own lust and left her unsatisfied and completely and totally worked up!
Damn him, anyway,
she thought irritably. She tingled all over, every part of her quivering with intemperate need. Blowing out an upward stream of breath that ruffled her bangs, she wondered how she was going to be able to make it all the way home without giving her own body the release it was clamoring for.
She had no choice but to wait, she knew, because she had a feeling it would take more than just one quick self-induced orgasm to satiate the fire smoldering inside her.
Forcing a semblance of calm and double-checking her blouse and skirt to make sure everything was back in order, Liz grabbed her spritz fan and purse and stepped outside her office. The outer hallway was filled with echoing sounds of other operators still servicing customers behind their own closed doors as she made her way back toward the front of the establishment, where Doreen, the night manager, told her to check in after her shift was over.
The front reception area was plush and well furnished, with nicely upholstered chairs, and recognizable artwork hanging on the cream-colored walls. No one who strolled inside the office and took a casual glance around would ever guess what really went on down the hall and behind all those closed doors.
Doreen, a pretty forty-something woman with short brunette hair and a slender figure dressed in designer clothes, sat at the main workstation. A large computer system and a flickering screen gathering caller and employee information seemed to be her primary source of tracking the evening’s business.
Behind Doreen, in another partitioned corner of the spacious room, four switchboard operators worked steadily and efficiently to connect calls as they came in, and
passed on detailed information and reports to the main network system. Judging by the equipment and latest technology they were using, it was easy to surmise that The Ultimate Fantasy was no rinky-dink company operating on a shoestring budget. No, Antonio and his other partners, whoever they were, took their business very seriously.
Liz came up to the counter, the jingling sound of the keys in her hand catching the other woman’s attention. “I’m done for the night.”
“Give me a sec to sign you out,” Doreen said, and executed a few quick keystrokes on the computer, which prompted another piece of equipment to print out sheets of paper. She gathered the copies and scanned the numerous pages as the machine continued to produce more documents. “For a first-timer, you sure did catch on quick. Nice job on that last call. You had him on the line for over forty minutes.”
Liz felt compelled to offer an explanation for that excessively long call. “He was very lonely and just needed someone to talk to.”
Doreen laughed and rolled her eyes, her expression one of pure cynicism. “Yeah, every once in a while one of those bleeding-heart types gets suckered in, which helps you make those extra bonuses.”
Liz continued to play along and act like an enthusiastic employee. “He promised to call back, so if I’m lucky, I can count on him to fatten my paycheck.”
“That you can.” Doreen slid one of the papers onto the counter and handed her a pen. “Sign this report and you can be on your way.”
Glancing at the document, Liz tried to decipher the various columns, numbers, and information on the statement—one she wasn’t about to approve with her signature until she knew exactly what the printout meant. “What’s this for?”
“It’s a log of your hours, time spent on the phone
with a customer, and the last four digits of the client’s phone number. Just basic tracking information on our end.” She opened a file folder with Liz’s name and employee number on the tab. “Once you sign the report, it goes into your personnel file, which then goes to Antonio when he gets in tomorrow morning. He reviews all the statements and transcripts of employee calls before approving payment.”
“Transcripts?” A chill slithered down Liz’s spine when she thought about her conversation with Steve being copied, which had included mention of Valerie, and way too much familiarity between the two of them before they’d gotten to all the sexy stuff.
Doreen nodded. “All calls are monitored and recorded.”
That’s illegal,
Liz wanted to say, but bit back the response, certain that Doreen wouldn’t appreciate her being a stickler for constitutional rights and legalities when the company obviously wasn’t. “So, all my calls tonight were recorded?”
“Every one of them.”
Liz felt her legs go weak. Why hadn’t Steve warned her of such a possibility?
The older woman gathered up the last of the pages that had printed out, and absently glanced through them. “I know it seems a bit unnerving at first, but Antonio insists on reading the transcripts. Don’t worry; you’ll get used to it, and after a while, you won’t even think about big brother listening in.”
Dread tightened Liz’s chest, and with a sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach, she signed her name to the report and left the building, grateful for the night watchman standing guard outside the building, keeping an eye on the parking lot and watching to make sure she made it to her vehicle without incident.
No sooner had she gotten into her car when her cell phone rang. Frowning, she dug the unit out of her purse,
and though she didn’t recognize the number on the display, she connected the call, wondering for a hopeful moment if it was Valerie.
“Hello?” she answered anxiously.
“It’s me.” Steve’s deep voice rumbled through the line, infusing her with a combination of disappointment and relief. “I just wanted to make sure you made it to your car safely.”
“I’m here now.” Sitting in the darkened interior of the vehicle, she stared up to the third floor of the building. The tinting on the windows muted the lighting and gave her brief glimpses of shadowed movements behind the plate glass. “I’m glad you called, because there’s something I need to tell you.”
“Is everything okay?”
The obvious concern in his tone curled through her and once again made her grateful that she wasn’t in on this alone. “I don’t know. When my shift was over, Doreen, the night manager, made me sign a statement logging my hours, time spent on the phone with each individual client, and part of their phone number. They also print out transcripts of customer calls, which go to Antonio for him to read and review before approving payment.”
“That must be his way of choosing the clients he wants to invite to The Ultimate Fantasy parties.”
“I’m sure it is.” How could he seem so calm when she felt so frantic? And how could he not understand the implications of their intimate chat tonight? “Steve … we talked about Valerie, and our phone call was recorded.” Her voice was threaded with both frustration and fear.
“No, it wasn’t,” he replied matter-of-factly. “I wasn’t sure how this business operated, so I took precautions and put a scrambler on my phone.”
She exhaled hard. At least
he’d
been thinking on his feet, which was all part of his job, but they could no
longer use the protection of a scrambler. “You have to take it off. Especially if the time we spend on the phone and the length and content of our conversations is what determines who Antonio extends invitations to.”
“I’ll take care of it,” he assured her.
As relieved as she was, she couldn’t help but ask, “Why didn’t you tell me that the calls could be recorded?”
“Because I wanted you to be calm and get some real practice the first night on the job, without censoring yourself. By the way, you were great tonight. Amazing, actually.”
The switch in topic reminded her that she was still ticked off at him for being so selfish with her pleasure, the cad. “I’m glad
you
had a good time.”
“You didn’t?” He sounded genuinely surprised.
Yes, she’d enjoyed their tantalizing conversation, but her body was still buzzing with unquenched need. “Let me put it this way: you came; I didn’t.”
His low, sexy chuckle only added to her agitation. “Poor baby.”
Unable to take any more of his teasing, she decided it was time to end the call. “Good night, Steve,” she said sweetly, and not waiting for a reply, she disconnected the line and started her engine.
She drove home with all the windows rolled down, letting the evening breeze tangle through her unclasped hair and help to ease the lust thrumming through her body. Unfortunately, the cool wind on her skin and caressing her bare thighs reminded her too much of her escapade with Steve and the fan he’d turned into an erotic form of foreplay.
She shifted restlessly in her seat, which only served to add an enticing friction to the liquid heat settling between her thighs. Her fingers flexed around the steering wheel—it was apparent she’d have to give herself the orgasms her body craved if she had any intention of getting a good night’s sleep tonight.
She turned down her street, and her pulse leaped when she spotted a familiar black Harley-Davidson parked outside her apartment complex. Then she shook her head. No, it couldn’t be Steve—she hadn’t yet returned the filled-out application with her home address on it.
Yet as she walked toward the apartment she shared with her cousin, she wasn’t all that stunned to find a tall, dark, and gorgeous man dressed in black jeans and a leather jacket, leaning impudently by her door, waiting for her. Despite the surge of temptation and, yes, damn him,
excitement
flowing through her, she approached him slowly, tentatively, refusing to rush eagerly into his arms.
His pose was all arrogant, self-assured male, like he had every right to be there. His thick, midnight hair was mussed from his ride over, dark stubble lined his jaw, and his blue eyes were bright and seductive against all that sinful black he wore. His thumbs were hooked into the belt loops on his jeans, and a booted foot was propped against the wall behind him, giving the impression that he didn’t have a care in the world.
She knew better than to underestimate that casual stance of his, or his reasons for being there. He was, after all, a dauntless, overly confident bad boy who took what he wanted, when he wanted it.
Just as he had tonight, on the phone.
As she neared, she could sense the latent power he exuded, could feel the raw eroticism of his hot stare as he watched her close the distance between them. Could feel her own body soften and respond instinctively to that intense awareness sizzling between them. By the time she stood next to him, she was breathless and battling the urge to rip off his clothes and have her way with him.
Summoning a bit a defiance to keep from giving in to that favorite fantasy of hers, she lifted her chin and pinned him with a direct look. “How did you know where I live?”
“Where there’s a will, there’s most definitely a way.” Taunting amusement flickered across his features.
And he was a PI, trained in tracking people and digging up secrets. “What are you doing here?”
A lazy, seductive grin curved his lips. “Sweetheart, I don’t think this is a conversation you want to have out here, where your neighbors might overhear.”
She ignored the warning note threading his voice, unwilling to make any of this easy on him. “And you’re not getting inside until you tell me why you’re here.”
“I think we both know the answer to that question,” he said, and leaned in so close, his warm breath fanned her neck and his lips brushed the lobe of her ear. His damp tongue added to the shivery sensations, and he added in a rough, wicked whisper, “But just in case you have any doubts in that pretty head of yours, I’m here to fuck you.”
S
teve heard Liz suck in a quick breath, and watched her eyes widen at his blatant and earthy declaration of what he wanted to do to her. He wouldn’t apologize for his outrageous behavior, nor did he intend to back down from the statement he’d just issued.
He deliberately meant to startle Liz, shock her even, and he expected her reaction to go one of two ways. If he’d offended her, she’d probably slap him or turn him down flat, and he’d know he’d stepped beyond her comfort zone. If she was daring enough to join him in a more erotic, forbidden world of pleasure that included unrefined, primitive sex, then she’d welcome him inside her place and they’d indulge those carnal fantasies, and more, together.
Now that the time had come to take that next step, he needed to know she was game for everything uninhibited and unadulterated. He wanted to be assured that she was a match for his sexual appetite and a willing partner to his aggressive, more dominant nature when it came to sex. He liked his encounters hot and vigorous, and what he had in mind beyond that closed door was not gentle, polite, or altogether civilized by most women’s standards.
Her answer would be the determinating factor of whether he kept their affair tame and within the confines of conventional sex or she granted him permission to allow his inner wild man loose with her.
Few women had.
He lifted a dark brow. “Well?” he prompted.
Her expression gave none of what she was thinking or feeling away. “Let me put it this way. If you weren’t here to fuck me, I’d be pretty pissed after the way you left me hanging tonight.”
Oh, yeah, the woman definitely had spunk, and that turned him on even more. “Touché.”
He plucked her apartment key from her lifeless fingers, and when she didn’t object to his take-charge attitude, he opened her door and swept a courteous hand inside the darkened entryway. “After you.”
Once they were both in her apartment and Steve had the door shut and locked behind them, that was where his gentlemanly manners ended. Taking advantage of the first hard surface they came into contact with, he maneuvered her up against the living room wall and pinned her in place with his big body, wanting complete control of tonight’s seduction—and Liz’s surrender. He dropped her keys to the floor, along with her purse and that small fan she’d told him about over the phone, which intrigued him with all the possibilities inherent in that little toy.
With one arm braced on the wall next to her head, and a dim light from the kitchen illuminating them, he held her gaze and slowly, gradually freed the buttons on her blouse with his other hand. “Did you think I was going to leave you on edge all night long?”
Mild accusation glimmered in her gaze. “That’s what you wanted me to think, wasn’t it?”
He dipped his head and nuzzled her neck, mostly to hide a smile at her accurate guess, though he wasn’t about to admit that she was right. No, it was more fun
sparring with her, and he liked her fearless, rebellious attitude, which would make her acquiescence all the sweeter.
“Only a cad would be so insensitive,” he replied playfully. Done opening her blouse, he pushed a sleeve and bra strap over one shoulder, tenderly kissed the flesh he bared, and felt her shiver in response.
Her hands fluttered between them, finding her way into his leather jacket and tugging the hem of his shirt from his jeans. “Funny, that’s exactly what I thought of you after we hung up.”
He laughed, low and deep. “I guess I’ll just have to do my best to redeem myself after being so greedy and leaving you so hungry.”
“You’re going to have to work hard for my forgiveness,” she said brazenly, though there was no mistaking the provocation in her tone.
“Oh, I plan to.” He brushed his fingers over the swells of her breasts and watched them quiver from his touch. “The thing is, if I hadn’t come earlier, I wouldn’t have been able to go this slow with you now. Think of it this way. Our earlier phone sex was merely an appetizer for me, and you need to catch up before we get to the main course.”
A blond brow arched humorously. “That’s quite an analogy.”
He shrugged. “I needed that release so I can concentrate on giving you what you need now.” Leisurely he drifted his fingers to the hard points of her nipples, straining against her sheer bra, and pinched the engorged tips gently, just enough to give her a taste of what was to come. “And what I plan to do to you is much more effective and pleasurable in person. And I can take my time doing it, too.”
As much as he’d enjoyed sharing fantasies earlier, their phone sex hadn’t been enough for him, despite what he’d gained from the encounter. He was a man who ultimately
needed a physical connection when it came to sex. He needed to feel Liz’s soft curves against him, taste her skin, hear her moans, and feel her hands on his body, too.
Eventually.
Her eyes shone bright with hot anticipation and female invitation. “Who says I want slow?” she asked, all sultry, seductive temptress.
He recognized her taunting for what it was, but wasn’t about to let her take charge this early in the game, if at all. “I’m not giving you a choice, sweetheart. Not this time, because I’ve thought about this moment since the first time I laid eyes on you at the café. Of stripping you naked, seeing your breasts bared, and watching you come, again and again.”
She looked up at him through lashes that had fallen to half-mast. “Considering how you left me earlier, I don’t think
coming
is going to be a problem.”
He groaned at the thought of all that pent-up passion just waiting to be unleashed. “Once I’m done with you, I think you’ll forgive me for being so selfish earlier.”
“We’ll see,” she taunted once again.
She reached out, and the muscles in his stomach flexed and rippled as her cool, slender fingers caressed the heated skin of his belly. Knowing he’d never last as long as he intended to with her hands all over him, he dragged the other sleeve and bra strap down her arm, just past her elbows. The stretchy lace material covering her breasts lowered, too, and his mouth watered at the bountiful flesh he’d exposed—ripe, full breasts that begged for the touch of his fingers, the wet rasp of his tongue, the slow, heated suction of his mouth …
Summoning patience, he quickly and efficiently used Liz’s bra straps as makeshift ties by wrapping the corded material and the loose ends of her blouse around her wrists. Before she realized what he was doing, he had her hands tethered and fastened, and the excess fabric of her top secured into a knot just below her
breasts, which effectively pinned her arms to her sides and restricted her reach.
She tugged on the bindings, her expression reflecting bemusement that he’d so easily managed to restrain her with her own clothes—leaving her physically vulnerable and sexually defenseless. “My… aren’t you clever,” she murmured.
“I’m a very resourceful kind of guy. I said
slow,
and I meant it, and tying you up assures me that I’ve got your full cooperation and I can do as I please with you.” He took a small step back, giving himself just enough room to reach down, slip his hands beneath her skirt, and shove the hem up around her waist. Unable to help himself, he skimmed his palms around to her backside and squeezed her buttocks, liking how soft and giving her body was—
everywhere.
She gasped, the sound filled with surprise—and excitement, too. “Now what are you doing?”
“Feeling you up,” he said with a grin, then took in his handiwork, pleased with the effect he’d created. Half dressed and trussed up in the bondage he’d devised, she looked deliciously sensual with her breasts swelling, nipples stiff and dark, and her honey-blond hair tousled around her pale shoulders and beautiful face.
Her legs were long, her thighs gently curved—the kind that could cradle a man’s hips in infinite softness as he thrust hard and deep. He’d left her panties on—mainly to save his own sanity, but those would be gone just as soon as he took care of other matters first.
Shrugging out of his jacket, he tossed it onto a nearby chair that was part of a dinette set, then unbuckled the shoulder holster he wore. He carefully laid his weapon on the table, then stripped out of his black T-shirt and added it to the pile.
“This is
so
not fair,” she complained huskily, her eyes glazing with desire as she watched him undress. “I want to touch, too.”
It was nice to know that she liked what she saw. “I never said I play fair.” He strolled back to where she was still leaning up against the wall. His cock pulsed, already hard and aching for her. Again. “But maybe, if you’re a good girl, I’ll let you play later.”
Her appreciative gaze traveled over his well-defined chest; then she eyed the tattoo encircling his right biceps, with undisguised interest. “I like your tattoo. Any special meaning to it?”
Not one he wanted to discuss at the moment. He’d gotten the tattoo right after his divorce years ago, as a symbol of his newfound freedom and bachelor lifestyle, and to cover up the scar the bullet had left on his arm. Yet despite the rebellious act, he’d been compelled to weave a name within the intricate design, of the one and only female who would ever be permanently linked to his heart. And he didn’t want to discuss that with Liz, either.
He smiled lazily. “It’s just a plain ol’ tribal band.”
Her fingers flexed at her sides, as if she wanted to reach out and touch the etched design. “It makes you look tough and dangerous.”
“I
am
tough and dangerous.” His attempt at being serious was lost in the light laughter vibrating in his tone.
“Of course you are,” she agreed generously, though it was obvious to him that she wasn’t intimidated by him at all. At least not in a malicious sort of way. Sexually, however, he was feeling very aggressive and intense.
She licked her lips, leaving them damp and shiny, beckoning for him to nibble and taste. “All that toughness and danger turns me on, and that tattoo makes me hot.”
She was deliberately provoking him, he knew. “We can’t have you burning up on me, now, can we?” Inspired by their earlier fantasy on the phone, he picked up
the spritz fan and switched the small unit on, sending a cool gust of air across her skin.
Her nipples automatically puckered and darkened to a deep raspberry hue, and her luminous eyes widened in astonishment… and realization. “Steve …”
Dismissing the mild protest he heard in her voice, he pulled the trigger and sprayed a fine mist of water on her throat and breasts, then did the same to her bare belly and naked thighs.
Her entire body trembled, and her breathing deepened as he stared at her wet skin and lush body, fascinated at the way the dewy moisture gathered in places and slowly trickled downward like a soft, drizzling rain.
God, he’d never seen anything so sexy, so mouth-wateringly tempting as the delectable feast she presented. Then again, she was the first woman to allow him complete trust with her body and so much control over her pleasure. And that in itself was a huge turn-on for him. Undoubtedly, Liz was a pure, reckless addiction to his senses, and like a junkie, he intended to get his fill of her.
Aching to caress all that slick, glistening flesh while she remained helplessly bound, he set the fan aside and flattened his palm around the curve of her throat and followed the slick path down to an enticing amount of cleavage. His hands captured her breasts, encircling them with long, possessive fingers and gliding his thumbs across her rigid nipples before he continued on with his lazy journey … skimming his palms across her quivering belly and down to her smooth, sleek thighs. Thighs he couldn’t wait to feel wrapped tight around his waist.
Liz moaned, giving herself over to the delightful feel of Steve’s hot, questing hands sliding along her deprived body, bringing feminine nerve endings to vibrant life and arousing her to the point of dizzying torment. His fingers gradually trailed their way back up her sides,
tracing the dip and swell of her hips and waist, stroking the outline of her pale breasts; then finally his hands came to rest on the wall behind her, surrounding her with the male scent of him, the virile power and heat he emanated.
She whimpered at the momentary loss of contact, but he didn’t make her suffer long. By slow, agonizing degrees, he closed the scant distance separating their bodies until the hard, masculine contours of his broad chest crushed against her sensitive breasts. Their bare bellies touched, skin searing skin, as he pinned her hips and thighs to the wall, leaving her no escape.
Their eyes met in the shadowed darkness, and there was no mistaking the hard, solid length of his erection jutting against her mound. He rolled his hips, letting her feel the full effect of that massive ridge, and she reacted with a low, purring sound she was helpless to hold back.
“You like that?” he murmured.
She widened her stance and arched toward him, silently seeking more. “Oh, yes,” she whispered anxiously, frustrated at his slow, mindless seduction and her inability to use her hands to take what she wanted.
“Then I think you’ll like this, too.” Lowering his head, he brushed his mouth across hers, his breath warm and scented with mint. When he slid his silky tongue against her lower lip, she opened her mouth and eagerly let him inside. He deepened the kiss, voracious and hungry, and she answered, sliding her body sensually against his in a rhythm that matched the thrust of his tongue.
One of his hands grasped her gyrating hip while the other slipped over her panty-clad bottom, past her thigh, and hooked his long fingers behind her knee. He lifted her leg up to his waist, wedged his thigh tight between hers, and pressed his groin to her sex, urging her to feel him, all of him.
Every single hard inch.
The overwhelming pressure of his stiff
male shaft rubbing against her intimate flesh, along with the friction of coarse denim stroking wet cotton, all combined to give her body the climax it had been craving for hours. Days. Weeks.
Sensations as exquisite as they were intense rippled through her in undulating waves of passion, beckoning her to let go. Curling her fingers into tight fists at her sides, she continued to move sinuously on his muscular thigh until her entire body began to shake. Tearing her mouth from his, she finally took her pleasure with a soft, keening cry of release.