1-900-Lover

by Rhonda Nelson

  Pop her phone sex cherry, indeed, Rowan thought as she punched in Will’s number. Her lips slid into a slow grin.

  One could hope.

  9

  WILL BLEW OUT an impatient breath and quietly watched another minute blink past on his VCR display. A screw of unease tightened in his chest. She’d asked for a few minutes. As far as Will was concerned, a few implied three to four—five at max.

  He’d been waiting for six and every second that had passed in between had felt like a damned eternity, providing him with ample time to second-guess the merits of placing that last call.

  Had she changed her mind? he wondered now. Had he frightened her off? I mean, honestly, Will thought, silently cursing himself. She’d just left—had just gotten home—and rather than playing his cards close to his vest, or trying to maintain even the slightest semblance of control—or pride for that matter—he’d pounced on her the second she’d walked through her damned door.

  Will’s eyes widened. Oh, hell. He’d screwed up. A grim chuckle burst from his throat, and a hot poker of stupidity prodded him in the ass, forcing him to leap to his feet. He paced the area in front of his favorite chair, speared his fingers through his hair.

  Shit, shit, shit.

  He’d screwed up. He shouldn’t have called her, he thought faintly. What in God’s name had he been thinking? Hell, he hadn’t been thinking, Will thought with a miserable groan of disbelief. Hadn’t been able to use anything which remotely resembled his so-called gray matter since he’d heard her voice yesterday. I had a good time, and I wasn’t ready for it to be over? Mortification scalded his cheeks, burned the lobes of his ears.

  It was the attraction, Will decided with a fatalistic grunt. It had obviously flambéed his brain. There could simply be no other explanation for his over-the-top senseless, moronic, out-of-character behavior.

  Clearly, he’d lost his mind.

  Lay it all out on the line, indeed, Will thought now, feeling beyond ridiculous.

  He’d laid something on the line, all right—his ass. The ass he wished he could kick himself. He swore again and expelled an exasperated breath. Good grief, would he ever learn? Would he ever—

  The ring of the phone cut through his self-recriminations. He stopped midstride, and his gaze swung to the phone. Every ounce of worry evaporated as a profound relief saturated every cell in his body. His shoulders slumped and he passed a hand wearily over his face.

  Okay. So maybe he hadn’t screwed up.

  He quickly crossed the room and snagged the phone. “Hello.”

  “Hey, sorry I took so long,” Rowan told him. “I had to return a call—my friend Alexa had left a message—and I wanted to change clothes.” She sighed into his ear. “You know, get comfortable.”

  In other words, she’d shed her bra. His mouth parched at the very idea, making his voice slightly rusty when he spoke. He sank into his recliner. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

  She laughed. “So you got comfortable, too?”

  Will smiled, glanced at his discarded clothes piled in a messy heap next to his coffee table. Hell, it was too damn hot to stay fully clothed. “I guess you could say that.”

  “Let me guess,” she told him, humor lacing that erotic voice. “Your shirt, shoes and socks are sitting in a pile on your living room floor.”

  Will didn’t know whether to be alarmed or impressed, so instead he chuckled. “How’d you know?”

  “Because you haven’t had time to take them to your pantry yet.”

  A startled chuckle burst from his throat. Oh, wow, he thought. Busted. “You saw that, did you?” Will asked, somewhat embarrassed. He picked at a loose thread on his shorts.

  “I did,” she laughed. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “Nah,” he told her. “Don’t worry about it. Hey, what can I say? Keeping up the house isn’t one of my strong suits. I’d rather be outside.”

  Her laughter tittered out into a soft sigh. “I know what you mean. Your place is gorgeous, your rose garden in particular. I’m truly envious.”

  “Thanks. A lot of work goes into it, but it’s worth it. And yours is nothing to sneeze at,” he told her. “You’ve done an amazing job.” Particularly considering she’d had no formal training. Honestly, he’d love to add her to his team permanently. It was something to think about, at any rate.

  Her voice grew warm. “I do love it. There’s something so therapeutic about gardening. I love planning and planting, watching my babies grow and bloom.”

  “And don’t forget weeding,” Will reminded her magnanimously. “You’re a—” He laughed, he couldn’t help himself. “You’re a champion wweeder.” Will didn’t have to see her to know that her face had undoubtedly turned bright pink.

  Several beats passed, then, “I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

  Still smiling, he sighed and absently scratched his chest. “Probably not. I know I’ll certainly never forget it.” And he wouldn’t. Listening to that sweet throaty voice rise and fall, pant, sigh and moan in orgasmic simulation was indelibly imprinted on his brain, on his eardrums. He’d mentally edited the scenario, had replaced Roy’s name with his own, and played it back in his head whenever the urge struck. Which was frequently.

  “Well, I wish you would,” Rowan said, slightly exasperated. “It wasn’t one of my finer moments,” she said drolly.

  Will quirked a brow. “Really? I was impressed.”

  She harrumphed. “Well, I can do better.”

  Will stilled as her unspoken oh-shit hummed between them. He instinctively knew that she’d blurted that out without thinking, and a nice guy—a less horny guy—would undoubtedly let it slide without comment. Unfortunately, the idea that she could do better than what he’d heard yesterday had taken root between his legs and, rather than letting her off the hook, he wanted to make her wriggle for a little while first.

  He cleared his throat, lowered his voice. “Do better, huh?”

  An audible swallow sounded in his ear, making his smile a smidge wider. “Well…yes, actually.”

  Too much pride to back down. When push came to shove, this was a chick who’d put her money where her mouth was. An admirable quality, that, Will thought, unreasonably impressed. Besides, he liked the direction this conversation was taking. He reached down and adjusted himself. It lessened the room in his shorts.

  “I’d like to hear that,” Will told her. “Care to give me a little demonstration?” he asked lightly.

  She chuckled, the sound at once sexy and sweet. “Sounds like you’re asking for a freebie.”

  “No, of course not,” Will readily replied. He laughed. “That would be tacky. You’re the one that said you could do better. I’m merely curious is all.”

  “Oh, well,” she said, humor tingeing that sultry nonwhisper. “If that’s the case, then that’s different.”

  “I thought so.”

  “So, what do you want?” she asked. “Just a straight orgasm, or would you like the works? The whole, I-want-to-get-naked-and-touch-myself-because-you-have-the-biggest-rod-I’ve-ever-seenand-only-you-can-make-me-sing-the-Hallelujah-chorus spiel?”

  Will blinked drunkenly. Just like that, he lost the upper hand. His smile slowly faded and every ounce of blood raced from his extremities and pooled into his loins. His tongue felt huge. “Wha—whatever you think is best.”

  “You fed me this evening,” she said, an implied shrug in her voice. “I guess I could give you the whole spiel, but it’s going to require a little effort on your part.” He got the distinct impression that she was laughing at him, that he’d somehow prodded her into this course of action. “Are you up for it?”

  He cleared his throat again, considered just how friggin’ up he was and barely swallowed an ironic grunt. “Sure. Yes. Of course.”

  “Good. Then let’s pretend that you’ve called me, okay? We’re going to take it from the top. Are you ready?”

  This time he did laugh. “Oh, yeah.”


  “Good… Hello.”

  The difference in the tone of her voice was staggering. Low. Husky. Rife with the promise of a wet dream, and he felt it eddy through him. She was on, Will realized. She was ready to play her part.

  But he didn’t want her just to play her damned part—he wanted her to participate.

  If he’d learned one thing this afternoon, he’d learned that she wanted him every bit as much as he’d wanted her. She hadn’t merely kissed him—she’d devoured him, had practically tried to crawl up under his skin. She’d been a slave to the attraction just as much as he had.

  So why the ruse? Will wondered. What was she afraid of?

  He didn’t know, but it damn sure wasn’t going to be him, and he wasn’t going to allow her to turn him into another Roy. His lips tightened.

  Not no, but hell, no.

  In fact, though now was not the time to ask her, he sincerely hoped there were no more “Roys.”

  Two could play at this game, Will decided, and while she had the benefit of experience, he had a hard-on that could up-end a Mack truck. In addition to that, he knew her, and he fully intended to press that advantage. He’d noted what had turned her on this afternoon, had committed each and every sibilant sigh and hiss to its coordinating erogenous zone.

  So bring it on, Will thought. He was ready to rumble.

  ALEXA HAD BEEN RIGHT—she was about to lose her phone sex cherry.

  Rowan’s heart raced, her mouth parched and a tingly heat concentrated at the apex of her thighs. She didn’t know what had possessed her to tell him that she could do better—vanity perhaps, because she knew that she could. She’d been in a hurry that day. But regardless of why she’d said it, the boastful retort had had the desired effect because she and Will Foster were about to scorch the phone lines. She could feel the heat already. Looked forward to the burn.

  His voice, when it finally came, was every bit as low and seductive as hers had been. “Hi.”

  Rowan sank her teeth into her bottom lip. Oh, yeah, she thought. Here we go.

  She made a valiant effort to catch the thread of the conversation. “I’m glad you called,” she murmured. “I’ve been lonely.” A standard response, but this time the line rang with a hint of truth that made her swallow.

  His soft chuckle seduced her ear. “Lonely, eh? That’s a pity. I’ll try to do something about that. I haven’t caught you at a bad time, have I?”

  Rowan shifted against her sheets. “No, I’m just lying here all alone in my big old bed.” She purposely lowered her voice, injected that sultry quality that never failed to elicit a response. “What about you? What are you doing?”

  “I’ve been thinking about a girl I met yesterday. Thinking about her a lot, actually.”

  Her heart rate shifted into overdrive, threatened to beat right up out of her throat. Oh, no. He wasn’t following the script. “You have?” Did that thready voice belong to her?

  “Yeah, she’s pretty damned hot, and she’s got this voice that makes me swell out of the top of my shorts. It’s soft and husky, sleepy almost. One of those bedroom voices, you know? I’ve never been so attracted to another person. Ever.”

  A bud of pleasure bloomed in her chest and, impossibly, another dart of warmth penetrated her womb. “We’ve got something in common then, because I’ve found myself in a similar situation recently. I met a guy yesterday and…my God.” She slumped against the back of her bed. “He’s gorgeous. He’s got the most amazing mouth. It’s a little full for a guy, but so damned sexy it makes me…wet. Makes me fantasize about kissing him…and having him kiss me…in lots of different places.”

  She paused, imagined him kissing her right then. Could practically feel his lips melded to hers, the evocative thrust of his tongue into her mouth. Her breath left her in a stuttering whoosh. “In fact, he kissed me today and I came within a gnat’s ass of one hell of an orgasm.” She winced. “Unfortunately we were interrupted.” Rowan felt her lips tip into a grin. “His mother called.”

  His voice had developed a rasp. “That was unfortunate.”

  “I’ll say,” Rowan readily concurred. “We’d been standing against the door frame of his greenhouse—he’s a dirt freak like myself, which makes him all the more attractive, I might add—and,” she sighed, “if it hadn’t been for that fateful call, I’m certain we would have done it right then. I wouldn’t have been able to say no, that’s for sure. I wanted him. Desperately.”

  A stuttered breath hissed across the line. “I know what you mean. I want this girl pretty damned badly, too. She’s…amazing. I kissed her today, and…mercy. Every thought drifted right out of my head and I literally tingled. My palms itched so much that I couldn’t keep my hands off of her. I slid them over her ass—did I mention that she’s got one helluvan ass?—and… Wow. I narrowly avoided embarrassing myself, that’s for sure. But I just can’t help it. I want her and I haven’t wanted anyone in a long time.” He sighed. “Too damned long.”

  Rowan absorbed the compliment, smiled as lust and delight commingled in her belly. “So, do you think you and her will get together?”

  “Most definitely. It’s inevitable.” She heard the smile in his voice and just enough confidence to be arousing. “I’m just waiting for the right moment to make my move.”

  A steady throb built between her legs and her nipples pearled against her nightgown. If she’d ever been more turned on in her life, she couldn’t recall it. Need was a living breathing thing inside her, consumed her to the point of complete distraction. “If you—” She moistened her lips. “If you could have her right now, what would you do to her?”

  His laugh was rife with anticipation. “First, I’d draw her hair away from her neck—she’s got long, gorgeous hair. Very sexy. Makes Lady Godiva look like a troll—then I’d kiss that tender part of her throat where her neck meets her shoulder. I touched her there today, and she melted against me, so I know she’d like it.”

  Rowan hummed. She knew precisely where he was talking about and the fact that he’d noticed how much she enjoyed it was singularly arousing. Made her wonder what else he’d noticed about what pleased her. Her lids drooped. “Go on.”

  “I’d like to say that I’d take my time making love to her. That I’d take things slow and easy, savor every second.” He sighed softly and she felt that whispery sound simmer in her blood. “But I want her too badly, and the first time, I know I simply wouldn’t be able to hold back. I’d devour her. I’d get her naked as swiftly as possible, then I’d lick, suck, kiss and nuzzle every inch of her in short order.”

  His voice was smooth, yet lightly rough. Like the slide of denim over silk.

  “Her breasts are full and ripe, and I felt her nipples against my chest this afternoon.” He hissed. “It nearly killed me. I wanted to feel them in my mouth, wanted to taste them so desperately. I’d have to linger around them for a few moments. Flick them against my tongue. Back and forth, then latch on again. Do you think she’d like that?”

  Oh, God, would she ever. What he’d described was right in keeping with her own thoughts. She wanted him to devour her. Wanted him to lick, suck, kiss and nuzzle her. Wanted his hot mouth anchored at her aching, pouty breasts right now. Like he’d done this afternoon through her bra.

  Rowan couldn’t help herself, needed some small amount of relief. She let her hand drift over one breast, over one distended nipple, winced, then relieved the other one as well. Her blood sizzled. “She’d…like it,” Rowan managed to croak brokenly.

  “Good.” His voice had developed a rasp. “I’d— I’d thought so.”

  “What would you do next?” When had she become such a glutton for punishment?

  A sexy laugh resonated into her ear. “Oh, I’m glad you asked. Next, I’d kiss my way down her belly, then I’d hook her legs over my shoulders and feed at her—fast, remember, because I’m not strong enough to wait—until I made her come and had sipped up every last ounce of her release.”

  The vision materialized so swif
tly behind her lids that she gasped and slid her hand down over her muddled belly. She edged her gown up, dallied beneath her drenched panties. Her back arched away from the bed as pleasure bolted through her.

  “Then, once she’d melted for me once, I’d slide right into her wet, tight heat, and pump in and out of her until she did it again.” His breathing grew ragged and he seemed to snap under the strain of their sexy wordplay. “Can you feel me there, Rowan?” he whispered. “Tell me you feel me.”

  “Oh, God yes,” she gasped, working her tender flesh beneath her frantic fingers. “Can you feel me?” she asked. “I’m clenching around you because every time you retreat, I want to draw you back in. I’m on fire and I— “She gasped as the sharp tug of beginning climax ripened in her sex.

  She heard a muttered curse, then a hiss of relief which told her he’d taken himself in hand. The erotic image burned into her brain, made a broken laugh of relief shimmy up her throat.

  “Oh, God,” she panted. She rolled her head from side to side, barely had the strength to hang on to the phone. Though she knew it was impossible, she could feel him there between her legs, had felt every sensual treat he’d described. His hot mouth suckling her breast, that blond head licking a path down her belly, then greedily feasting between her thighs. Then the long hard length of him filling her up, satisfying that itchy, achy heat centered deep into her womb. “I need— I want—”

  “Tell me what you want, baby, and I’ll give it to you,” Will told her.

  “Harder,” Rowan gasped. “Faster.” She upped the tempo, imagined him plunging in and out, in and out, until finally—blessedly—the orgasm crested and broke through her. Her back arched off the bed, her neck bowed and a long, keening howl issued from her throat.

  Frantic, masculine hisses rasped into her ear. A gasp, a groan, a guttural growl, then he lost his breath—the telling absence of noise she’d been waiting for—which told her he’d found release as well.

  Unable to help herself, Rowan smiled, waited for her labored, wholly satisfied breathing to return to normal. She didn’t want to ruin the perfection of this moment with awkwardness, so she conjured a light laugh. “This girl,” she gasped, still not completely recovered. “She’s going to be one lucky lady.”