by M. S. Parker
"That's not a bad way to spend a phone call ."
The screen went blank a second later .
Twelve
Jake
I hadn't lied to Michelle when I told her I had a client who preferred to Skype me instead of actually meet me .
Each time, I managed to talk her into finding an orgasm, although I was under no illusions that I had some audible compulsion to bring women sexual satisfaction .
No, we talked dirty and I convinced her to use the sex toys she had in abundance, and she reached the climax on her own once she let her guard down .
Annika was a recluse, torn up with issues of leaving her home and being around people. But the agoraphobia and anxiety around people wasn't anything I could help her with. Sex...different story .
However, I'd never once felt all that sexually interested with Annika. I almost felt like a therapist .
It was a far cry from what I was doing with Michelle in the evenings. We'd spent four of the past six nights having Skype-sex, and if I didn't get her naked and have real sex, as in her pussy snug and hot around my dick, I thought I'd explode .
But that would have to wait until tomorrow at the earliest because I had two clients on the schedule today. One was just a date. A meeting with a potential new client, then I was scheduled to meet up with Alisha .
That wasn't a date, and that was where things got complicated. Complicated because while I was currently sitting on the couch in the boutique hotel where we preferred to meet, with my hands on the curve of her very nice ass, I was having a hard time getting into it .
Alicia slid her mouth from my lips down to my neck. Letting my head fall back against the couch, I closed my eyes .
The last time I talked to Michelle had been two nights ago. Then, we'd done some seriously dirty talking and a little bit of role play where I'd teased her about showing up at her apartment. I even pushed it further than I should have by asking her for her address, and she'd given it to me. Part of me was flabbergasted that she'd done it. The other part of me had been ready to shut down the fricking computer and haul ass out of my place so I could get to hers .
All I'd wanted since then was to go to her, put my hands on her and bring every dirty, torrid fantasy we'd talked about to fruition. I was the king of orgasms and fantasies – not phone sex .
Hands covered mine. Hands. Not Michelle's .
It was enough of a reality crasher that I managed to bring myself back to the present, reminding me that I was with Alicia. I liked her. Things with her were fun and easy, no complications and she paid well .
This was an arrangement that suited both of us. Sometimes I was able to glean information from her, and she got sex. Her husband, quietly gay and very much in the closet, didn't mind her affairs as long as she was discreet, and I was nothing if not discreet .
I'd never once had trouble keeping my focus on her .
Until now .
Opening my eyes, I looked at Alicia as she slid off my lap and knelt on the floor between my thighs. She wore a sleek black dress that highlighted a figure that couldn't have been more appealing if she'd stepped off the cover of Playboy magazine .
Yet I found myself wishing for a woman with a sweet smile and rich, red hair, blue green eyes that made me think of tropical oceans .
"Have I mentioned before that I love how you look in a tux?" Alicia asked .
We'd met up at a fundraiser that was a pet project of hers. She liked it when we could meet in plain sight, talk about nothing and everything without anybody realizing what was going on, then I'd leave and come to the hotel here while she finished up playing hostess. I might wait an hour, or half the night .
That was part of the appeal for her, having a man wait for her instead of the other way around for once .
I didn't really care most of the time, but tonight it had been a big mistake because I'd spent that one and a half day dreaming about Michelle. Now I couldn't get the thought of her, the taste of her, the feel of her out of my head .
"I think you've mentioned it once or twice," I said, keeping my attention on the job at hand .
She smoothed her hands down her sides, drawing attention to the lush curves poured into the sleek black dress before she turned around and caught her hair in her hand .
"Unzip me ?"
Rising, I did so, pausing to drop a kiss on her shoulder. There was no real interest in it though, and I wanted to smack my head against the nearest wall .
Get your act together, King, I told myself .
When she turned around, I cupped her face in my hands. Then I did something I'd never done .
I imagined I was kissing somebody else .
And not just somebody . A specific somebody .
Michelle.
Her mouth, soft and hesitant under mine. Her tongue, sliding past my lips, hesitant and shy .
But the woman I was kissing was anything but shy. The kiss didn't fit. It was enough of a disconnect that every time I started to find myself getting into it, I had to do a reset .
And Alicia noticed .
She eased back, clearing her throat .
Something happened then that hadn't happened in all the years I'd been doing this. I felt awkward – awkward and out of place .
Alicia either felt it or saw it, because she eased the dress sagging around her shoulders back up into place, reaching behind her to tug the zipper up .
"Maybe it's just years of practice," she said lightly. "But when a man is thinking about somebody else and kissing me, I can tell ."
I flinched, her words hitting right on target .
"Jake..." She reached up and cupped my cheek. "It's okay." She tugged me down and pressed her lips to the corner of my mouth. "I figured out a long time ago that serious emotional commitment wasn't in the cards for me and that's...okay. It's messy and painful and frankly? Those serious emotional commitments can be annoying . But that doesn't mean it's not the right fit for everybody ."
"Alicia..." I covered her hand with mine, squeezing gently .
She smiled back at me, the expression in her eyes wry. "Can I offer you some advice, big guy ?"
"I'm yours for the night. You can do whatever you want ."
She laughed softly. "That's the thing...you're not mine. Not for the night, not for anything. I can tell. You're not into this any more than I'm into eating tofu, no matter what I tell my dietician. So...go find whoever this is you're thinking of, and lay those kisses on her ."
* * *
A n hour later, I sat in my car, staring up at the building in front of me .
It was ironic .
I'd had a client who lived here once .
She'd moved out of town not long after her divorce six months ago, but she'd lived here. Had I ever walked past Michelle without noticing her ?
I had no idea .
I don't know what it was that had drawn me to her, but something had and whatever in the hell it was, the pull was strong enough to yank me off course .
Nothing had yanked me off course in years .
Not since I decided just what my course was .
Memories of a phone call, then reading that letter washed up to remind me, but even with that being front and center in my mind, I couldn't banish Michelle .
That nervous, sweet smile .
The way she chewed on her lip before she asked a question .
The way she laughed and the odd observations she made that had me doing the same thing .
Alicia had repeated herself when I'd gone to leave .
Go find her, Jake .
Now I was here, less than five minutes away from her apartment. I'd even managed to find a parking spot just down the street. It was like fate was smiling on me .
Either that, or teasing me .
What was I supposed to do? Go up there and say, Hey, I couldn't concentrate on my client because I was thinking ab
out you .
"What in the hell am I even doing here ?"
I didn't know .
But one thing was certain .
I wasn't leaving .
Sliding out of my car, I reached up and undid the top two buttons on the tuxedo shirt, leaving the bow tie hanging loose around my neck. I dropped my keys in the pocket and blew out a breath .
What was I going to do if I went up there and found her with a guy ?
She said she didn't have a boyfriend, and I believed her. But not having a boyfriend and not dating were two different things. Yet somehow, I didn't think she was dating either .
I was just procrastinating, because I knew what I was going to find. Her alone. Her, tucked into her pajamas, maybe reading a book .
Her...vulnerable .
And I wasn't going to give a flying fuck. I was going to put my hands on her anyway .
Shoving away from the car, I started to walk .
Thirteen
Michelle
I took a long hot bubble bath and enjoyed a glass of wine while I was in there. Aunt Blair had loved the article I put together for the Skype sex session .
She'd told me what she was going to call it –
Getting the O on the Go
How the Modern Girl Can Keep Things Hot
S he had given me a rather pointed look when she came by to talk about it, asking if I was getting first-hand experience. Since she'd made several references to it via phone calls and emails, I'd been expecting it and had been braced for it – to some extent. I'd kept my face buried in my coffee cup and brushed off the comment to the best of my ability .
I wasn't sure if she bought my muttered, "I don't know what you're talking about ."
She'd let it go with a soft "Hmmmm... " It could have meant anything or nothing at all. With Aunt Blair, one never knew .
Now, wearing my favorite pair of pajamas – a pair of leggings and an oversized jersey – I curled up in my favorite chair, with my favorite mug full of cocoa. I was going to do nothing but read .
I'd soaked in a bubble bath for nearly an hour, sipping on a glass of wine and now, for the rest of my fuck-it Friday routine, I was going to drink cocoa and lose myself in a book .
My fuck-it Fridays had started almost a year ago when I'd finally given up on trying to date like the rest of my friends – given up on being normal . Aunt Blair had hugged me once when I told her about it. What in the hell is normal anyway, sweetheart ?
It was a good question .
How would I know what normal was ?
I felt better when I wasn't trying to be normal, when I didn't pretend to have something going on every Friday and when I didn't have to lie .
My friends had come to expect that my typical Friday consisted of me staying in with a book and a glass of wine, or a book and hot cocoa, or maybe, on rare occasion, a movie out .
I'd tried to break my routine this week, asking Jake if we could have another Skype session. He didn't need to know that I'd finished the article already, right? It wasn't coming out until next week .
But he already had plans, and even though nothing about his demeanor had changed, I'd gotten the impression those plans had to do with his job. The one that involved his oh so clever title, the King of Multiple Orgasms .
Jealousy had twisted in me for a day or so once I figured that out. A jealousy I had no right to feel but had existed nonetheless .
It wasn't like I didn't know what he did for a living. He was going to have plans, and I wasn't paying him for the time we were together. It was something I carefully avoided discussing .
It wasn't like I was paying him for anything we did. That would be sort of illegal considering we had gone and had sex. Technically, he could be considered a consult, of sorts, I supposed, but that was risky even then .
Sometime soon, I expected he would want to break things off. Why wouldn't he? Brooding, with my unopened book still in my lap, I sipped at my cocoa. I'd already taken up a lot of his time, and while it had been an erotic slice of paradise for me...for him ?
Probably nothing much .
A shiver raced down my spine as memory of the last Skype session raced through my mind. It hadn't been like the other times. He'd told me he was going to play, teach me how to play and use my imagination – and had he ever .
It had been intense, a little wicked, a little dark. That alone had been surprising, him being able to get me into it .
Dark was not my speed. Even intense was pushing it .
But not only had I gotten into it, I had gotten into it big time, having the most intense, nearly painful orgasm by the time he told me it was okay – okay – to bring myself to climax .
He'd asked me where I lived when I was coming down, and mindless from the pleasure, I told him .
A part of me had hoped he'd show up, but he hadn't. It wasn't surprising, but the disappointment had lingered .
It was gone now. It had been silly to be disappointed anyway because there was no reason for me to have expected for him to show up, right ?
A girl can dream about a lot of things, but it was stupid to get all down just because an impossible dream didn't happen .
I stared at the fireplace and reminded myself all of this was an assignment to him, and even though it had turned into a fantasy for me, it was still a job. Just a job .
Flipping my book open, I made myself focus on it. I needed to relax and do some reading, otherwise my batteries were going to be drained for the next couple of weeks. I had some assignments coming up that had nothing to do with articles for my aunt, and I needed to be fresh for them .
That meant I needed my creative batteries recharged .
I had just gotten into the first chapter, four or five pages in, when a knock at the door caught me off guard. It was just after nine, not late, but late enough that nobody should be knocking. Aunt Blair wouldn't have come over without calling and neither would most of my friends .
Nervously, I went to the door, automatically clutching my cell phone in my left hand. Nerves were just a part of me anymore. A natural part of my life, and they had been since I was fifteen .
I didn't let them control me anymore, but I also refused to become the victim I had once been. That alone required a certain level of caution .
Leaning in to look through the Judas hole, I pursed my lips. Sucking in a breath, I jerked back. The sight of my visitor was such a shock, I almost yelped .
It was Jake. Jake was here. Here .
No way .
I looked once more. Sure enough, it was definitely Jake. Judging by the way he stood there, I thought he might be leaning against the door, both hands braced on it as he stared at the peephole, waiting .
"Open up, Michelle," he said gruffly. "I know you're there. I heard you walking across the floor just a few seconds ago. Wooden floors creak like a bitch ."
Slowly, I unlocked the door, leaving the chain in place as I looked out at him. "What are you doing here ?"
"Let me in," he said, voice low .
The intent look on his face made me wonder if everything was okay, so I closed the door enough to free the chain and then opened it, standing aside so he could come in .
He did, closing the door behind him before turning to me. I opened my mouth to ask what was wrong .
The words never made it out .
His mouth slammed down on mine, and after a brief, startled moment, I reacted, moaning into his mouth and curling my arms around his neck. He hauled me up against him, his body hard against mine .
He wore a tuxedo but no coat, and through the thin material of the jersey shirt I wore, his jacket felt incredibly cold and my nipples went tight, puckering in reaction. When he slid his hands under my shirt, I hissed out a breath. His hands, normally so warm, were equally chilled now, but the familiar feel of his calloused palms, his thumbs pinching up my nipples, was enough to elicit a cry for me .
Every stroke of his h
ands against my flesh seemed to warm his until he was as hot as I was. Soon, my breathing was ragged, my skin flushed .
He tore his mouth from mine and pressed a burning line of kisses to my neck, then up to my ear. "I'm going to fuck you," Jake growled. "All week. I've been dreaming about it all week ."
Those nerves of mine started to jangle, a crazy kind of excitement rising inside me. Easing my hands between us, I looked into his pale eyes. I had to clear my throat before I could speak, and even then, my voice was raspy. "Is this...is this part of the game from last night ?"
In response, Jake pushed his hand into the loose knot I'd twisted my hair into, dislodging the clip. "This is no game, Michelle ."
His mouth crushed into mine once more, and I moaned, no longer able to form coherent thought .
I might have said something else, asked him what he meant by that, but there was no air left in my lungs. It didn't even feel like there was air left in the room as he all but ripped the shirt from me .
I wore nothing else but the leggings now, and he palmed my breasts, hands moving with a roughness, a hunger that hadn't been there that first night. He backed me into the door and plumped my breasts together, burying his face in the valley he created. "Your tits...fuck, everything about you." He nuzzled me, then moved to my right nipple, catching it between his teeth and worrying it to a hard, taut nub, drawing it away from my body before letting it go. I cried out, the sound turning into a gasp as he caught the swollen tip in his mouth and sucked deep .
Blood pulsed in that small part of me and in my core, like a line connected the two and every time he licked, stroked, bit, it was a pluck on that line that sent pleasure shuddering through my entire being .
Then...he switched to the left, and I almost lost it .
I bucked against his hand when he reached between my thighs, rubbing me through the tight material of my leggings. "You're so wet already. I could come inside you right now and make you come in a minute," he growled against my breast. "Couldn't I ?"
