by Emily Bishop
Fiona: Hey! I know that it’s late but I just wanted to say that I hope you had a good first day :-) Mystic misses you.
My heart pounded. I hadn’t really been expecting to hear from her, especially not so soon. I told her to take her time and figure things out. What could she possibly have figured out in the mere hours it had been since I’d last seen her? Since I’d crawled from her bed in the middle of the night to leave her standing alone in the doorway?
In a moment of weakness, I tapped my thumb on the green call button and called her back instead of returning her text.
Chapter Nineteen
Fiona
I stared at my phone nervously while sitting cross-legged in my bed, wondering if Shane was going to return my text. My room was dark, except for the glow of my phone screen shining up at me. The rational part of my brain knew that it was late, and that he’d probably had a long day, so the odds were not in favor that he was still awake.
The hopeful, unreasonable, and newly-minted romantic part of my brain wondered if maybe he’d thought about me as much as I had thought about him that day. Or if it was really too late for me to tell him that I wanted to be with him.
I jumped when the screen lit up, and his name taunted me from it. At best, I was hoping for a text message back. I didn’t expect him to call. But the phone was still ringing. I wasn’t imagining it. My heart started racing, my palms suddenly clammy.
“Hello,” I answered, feeling shy all of a sudden.
“Hey, you,” his deep voice rumbled at the other end of the line. “My first day was… interesting. And long. Thank you for asking.”
“I just wanted to check in,” I said, leaning back against my pillows. “I know it’s late. You didn’t have to call.” I twirled a lock of hair between my fingers.
“Yeah, I didn’t have to but I wanted to. So, I did.” He said it as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“What was so interesting about your day?” I asked, sitting up. I wanted to know everything that I could about him. I was also hoping for some of clue about what was going on in his head.
“I found out some things that caught me off guard, even though I shouldn’t have been surprised to find them.” He sighed, sounding tired.
I sat up straighter in bed. “What did you find?” I didn’t mean to pry. I would drop it if he gave me another vague answer but my curiosity was definitely piqued.
He hesitated. “I don’t want to bore you. It’s business. Is that okay?”
“Sure.” I could never get behind Perkins Enterprises but I could be there for Shane.
“The president of the company, my right-hand man, made good use of the time that I was in Mystic.” Anger sparked in his voice. “He’s trying to get the board to vote him in as CEO.”
I stopped breathing. My first thought was a ridiculously selfish one: If Shane was no longer the CEO of Perkins, did that mean he would come back to Mystic?
I got off the bed and wandered through the house, filled with nervous energy. I left the lights off and let the illumination from my phone screen light my way.
“How is he doing that?” I asked carefully.
“He’s leveraging the fact that I was gone for so long, and that he’s been with the company for so many years. He thinks that he will be able to do a better job at running it than me.”
At first, I was surprised by his honesty. Then I remembered that he’d lied to me only once, and he had eventually told me the truth, without my having to confront him. That had to count for something.
“He won’t be better than you,” I said, completely confident in my statement. “What are the chances of him taking over?”
“Not great, now that I’m back.” Despite myself, my heart sank a little. “But I’ve been trying to figure out what the hell to do about him since I found out.”
I sat down in my dark kitchen and leaned my elbows against the table. “Will you fire him?” I asked tentatively.
“Possibly.” There was a dangerous edge in his voice that I hadn’t heard before. He sounded every bit the powerful tycoon that I knew him to be. “Perhaps not.”
“Whatever you decide, I’m sure it will be the right thing.” I had never seen him in action, but even I could hear from his tone that he wasn’t in the mood to be argued with. Despite my proclivity for doing so, I wasn’t in the mood to argue with him, either.
I changed the topic abruptly. “How’s Houston?”
He paused. “It’s the same, I guess. But it feels different somehow. Bigger. Lonelier, maybe.”
“That’s understandable,” I said, nodding, even though he couldn’t see me. “You just found out that someone you thought you could trust betrayed you.”
“I don’t think it’s that.” He laughed humorlessly, pausing before he added, “How’s your dad?”
I mulled over his answer, and his question. “He’s better, now that you’ve left.”
His answering chuckle was more relaxed. “I bet.”
“What did you mean when you said you didn’t think it was that?” I asked quietly, after a beat had passed.
I leaned back against my pillows, waiting with baited breath for his answer.
“You said Mystic misses me,” he said. “I miss Mystic, too. I miss certain inhabitants of Mystic.”
“Me?” I breathed.
“You,” he confirmed. His voice turned huskier, deeper. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”
“Yeah?” I squeaked, his changed tone awakening the intense desire that I felt for him. I got to my feet and headed back to the bedroom. It was the room where I felt closest to Shane. I wanted that feeling of closeness right now as I dropped back on the bed.
“Yeah.” Then, “What are you doing?”
My heartbeat sped up. “I’m just lying in bed.”
“Same,” he said in that sexy rasp that betrayed the fact that he was getting as turned on as I was. “I wish I was there with you.”
“Me, too.” I sighed, trying to ignore the ache that was slowly building between my legs as I listened to his breathing get deeper.
“Want to pretend that I am?” he asked.
“What do you mean?” I had never done what I thought he was about to suggest.
“I want you to touch yourself, and imagine that it’s me touching you. Are you up for that?”
My heart stopped, then raced. “I don’t know how to do that.”
“Touch yourself?” he asked, surprised.
“No, I mean,” I stammered, “I know how to do that. I’m not great at it but I do know how. I meant that I wouldn’t know what to say.”
“I don’t give a fuck what you say,” he growled. “I just want to hear you come.”
Oh. “Okay, tell me what you want me to do.”
“What are you wearing?” he asked huskily.
“Pajama shorts and a tank top.”
“Hmm.” His voice got heavier. “Take them off.”
I felt hot everywhere. The heat raced through me and reached its crescendo between my legs. I couldn’t help it. My body had an addiction to Shane, and I wanted to indulge that addiction.
My eyes fluttered closed, and a blush spread across my cheeks. “Really?”
“Yes, really,” he groaned. “I want you, Fiona. For now, I’ll settle for hearing you, even if I want nothing more than to be there, and to bury my cock in that tight pussy of yours.”
I gasped, suddenly wanting him more than I thought would be possible without him being there. I obeyed his command. I tugged off my clothes, dropping them on the floor beside me.
“They’re off.” My nipples peaked as I waited for his next command. My voice shook slightly when I breathed my next question. “What are you wearing?”
His answer was a low groan at first. “Nothing.”
Oh, my. Shane is naked! My sex clenched at the memory of his hard, delectable body. “I’ve never done this before.”
“Me neither. Put your phone on speaker.” I did, cradling it next
to my head on the pillow. “Trail your hands downs your sides, then to your chest. Tease your nipples, just like I do.”
I did. It felt good. Not as good as it felt when he did it, but close. I played with my nipples, my breathing becoming heavy and strained.
“Now let your hands run down your stomach, all the way to that delicious slit.” I let my hand run down, below my belly button, to slide between my legs. I was already wet, swollen, and filled with desire.
My breath hitched in my throat. “Are you doing it, too?”
“Fuck yeah.” His voice was heavy. “Go on, Fiona. I know that you’re aching to touch yourself by now. I’m aching to touch you, too.”
I slid my hand over and brushed my clit with a soft touch, teasing just like Shane would have. I moaned.
Through the speakers, his breathing became ragged. Desperate. “That’s it, baby. Do that again. Fuck.”
I did. Again and again, until I couldn’t take it anymore. I sighed his name, a plea as desperate as his breathing was. “Shane.”
I rubbed myself harder, no more gentleness in my touch. The pressure inside me was building, winding me up, tighter and tighter. I let out a soft moan, then a louder one.
“Jesus, Fiona, you sound so fucking sexy,” Shane groaned. I could almost hear him pumping his own cock on the other side of the line and the mental image sent me spiraling.
I moved my hand faster, making circles around my clit that became smaller and smaller, until I was frenzied and focused only on one spot.
“Oh, Shane, fuck.” My voice picked up as I rubbed myself to the fast-approaching edge. The ache between my thighs became intense. I needed Shane. His hands or his mouth or his cock. I let my mind run wild, until my fingers felt thicker, more muscled.
In my mind’s eye, he was there, his eyes burning with lust and slightly hooded as he rubbed me. The ache became almost more than I could bear at the thought. The pleasure drifting through my body turned inward and shot to my core, until it grew to a desperate pressure.
I was vaguely aware of sheets rustling through the speakers, of Shane’s breathing getting heavier and heavier, like he was losing control.
His moans were low, deep, and nearly animalistic. They were desperate and needy sounds that got lower and louder. He wasn’t wasting any time as I relaxed into my mattress and slowly started coming back to earth. His breathing became choppy and loud, his groans higher, until they started running together.
“Fuck, Fiona.” His voice was strained. He let out one last, long groan, and I knew that he was coming, sighing as pleasure overtook him.
His groan flowed through the speakers, a deep rumbling sound that pushed me right off the edge. Spasms of pleasure shattered me, sending pieces of me hurtling to all four corners of the globe as I came undone.
Slowly, our breathing steadied. Shane was quiet for so long, I thought that he had fallen asleep.
“You still there?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he breathed. “That was awesome. I suddenly understand the appeal, even though it’s not even close to the real thing.”
“Nope,” I agreed, then made my confession. “And it didn’t make me miss you any less.”
“I’d be happy to talk you through another one,” he offered.
I shook my head. “I’d rather have you here.”
“Me, too.” He fell quiet again. “You should get some sleep. You have to be up early, right?”
“Right.” There was no way I was going to fall asleep so soon after that. My body still felt flushed and needy, but he had to be up early, too.
“Goodnight, Fiona, sleep well,” he said, his voice relaxed and sleepy.
“Goodnight, Shane. We’ll talk soon.” I ended the call, my hands running up and down my thighs, but I forced myself to stop and think instead.
I fluffed my pillow and watched the slow, rickety circles that my ceiling fan made. As I lay there, I couldn’t help but think that just maybe we were the only couple in history who could survive a long-distance relationship, especially if we were that good together, even over the phone.
I wanted to be with him in any way that I could get him, but it was time to face the facts. He probably wasn’t coming back.
Chapter Twenty
Shane
It wasn’t hard to fall back into my routine in Houston. Before I knew it, I was scheduled to make an appearance on yet another news station. This time, I would be talking about the explosion and the measures that had been put in place to prevent another incident in the future.
Fiona was still never far from my mind. After the conversation we had the other night, I was semi-hard every time I thought about her or her voice.
It was problematic, since I was about to step in front of the cameras of a news crew who were likely to think that my hard-on was because of the explosion, and that I had some sort of sick perversion. I couldn’t imagine trying to explain that to the board.
I adjusted myself quickly before I had to leave the green room and slid my game face on, pushing Fiona from my mind.
“And here to talk about the explosion on the Perkins rig a few weeks ago, we have none other than Mr. Shane Perkins, current CEO of Perkins Enterprises, to talk us through what happened and what steps, if any, the company will be taking to prevent such a tragedy in future.”
The news anchor was staring right into the camera, then she flashed a predatory grin as she introduced me.
“Thank you, Ms. Currie,” I said, joining her on the deceptively hard sofa on the set.
“So, Mr. Perkins. What an ordeal Perkins Enterprises and the families of your employees have been through. What happened?” She wasn’t pulling any punches, so I didn’t either.
I schooled my features and spoke sincerely into the camera pointed at my face. “It truly has been quite the ordeal, and truthfully, it should never have happened. We’ve been working tirelessly around the clock to ensure that it doesn’t happen again.”
“We’ve been told that some of your equipment failed?” she prodded.
I nodded. “That is correct. The choke to one of the gas busters failed, which meant that the gas couldn’t escape, and that resulted in an explosion.”
“That kind of thing is very rare, isn’t it?” The anchor raised her perfectly manicured brow at me, and pursed her lips in a smirk that told me that she thought she had me dead to rights. She thought I was going to deny it so that she could bombard me with statistics and make me out to be a liar.
“Yes, it is increasingly rare,” I said.
My answer was clearly not what she was expecting to hear. Her jaw dropped ever so slightly, and her eyes widened. She gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head in the direction of the production room.
“So, you could have prevented it?” She took another, entirely expected angle.
“We could have, even though our safety protocols were already above industry standards. As a result of the explosion, though, we have introduced a new safety plan, which doubles almost all measures we have previously taken.”
The anchor leaned forward. “Such as?”
“All inspectors will have to work together in teams of two. One inspector will follow the other and double check every mechanism that is inspected. This will mean that if one person misses something, the other will most certainly pick it up and hopefully, prevent disaster.”
“Should that not have been done in the first place?” The anchor was doing her best to trip me up. Too bad for her, I was prepared for every eventuality.
“Not at all,” I said. “The current regulations do not require it, and no other company implements that strict level of precaution. Perkins Enterprises will be the first. We, as a company, want to be absolutely sure to prevent any future tragedies.”
“There are a lot of people who are saying that, as one of the largest employers in the industry, you only take from people and don’t give anything back. What do you have to say to that?” She smirked, sure that she was about to win at least one round.<
br />
She wasn’t.
“I’ve heard the rumors, but I don’t agree with them.”
“Well, there’s a surprise,” she chirped, cutting me off.
I flashed her an indulgent smile, gritting my teeth to keep from snapping at her. “Well, let me tell you why I don’t agree, may I?”
“Of course.” She still wore a self-satisfied smirk, but I was about to wipe it off her smug face.
“Perkins Enterprises is one of the largest employers in the industry. That is true. And that means that a lot of families depend on us. We provide some of the best market-related packages, including medical care and many other benefits that most other employers do not.”
“Well, I think that’s open to—”
It was my turn to interrupt her. “That can be verified by independent and objective data, which I’m sure is all that your network is interested in?” I arched an eyebrow, challenging her silently.
She simply nodded, her eyes darting toward the production room once more. I was sure that they would be scrambling for those statistics. I’d had some of the data I’d compiled scrubbed so that it could be shared, and ensured that my people emailed it to her producer during the course of the show.
“If you’ll ask your producer to brush up on some research, you’ll find what you need to verify what I’m telling you.”
I waited for her to listen to whatever was coming through her earpiece, and then continued when her eyes met mine.
“What’s more is that I’ve also started a charity to benefit not only the employees of Perkins, but the good State of Texas as a whole. It has been incorporated as The Ruth Hall Foundation for Brain Cancer Research, and I’ve personally pledged ten million dollars to it.” I sat back, having said everything that I needed to say.
The anchor’s eyes widened in surprise, and I watched with great amusement as a multitude of emotions flitted across her previously smug features. It was almost laughable watching her trying to come up with another plan of attack on the fly. There were some anchors who might have been able to think on their feet, and I would’ve been prepared for that, too, but she one wasn’t one of them.
