by Jill Monroe
“It’s the power thing we talked about. The battle lines. You don’t tell a woman you’re falling for her. Women play hard to get. Men wait two days before calling a woman once he’s got her number.”
She swallowed. Was Ian falling for her? Or was he just talking in the abstract? Of course it was in the abstract.
“So where does the coffee thing come in?” she asked.
“Sometimes you want to break the rules.”
“So new rules were invented. Another dance, but each knows what the step really means.” Now this was making more sense to her.
“Exactly. You pretend you’re really going to make us something to drink. I pretend I’m interested in drinking it. Instead you’re in my arms.”
Ava closed her eyes at the idea of being in Ian’s arms again. Of kiss— Of necking with Ian on her couch.
“So we missed that opportunity.”
“Maybe that particular opportunity, but there is something else we can do. Tell me what you’re wearing.”
“What?” That was the last thing she’d expected him to say.
“You tell me what you’re wearing. Your voice turns all soft and low, like you’re half a second away from moaning. You tell me what you like. Where you want me to touch you. I respond by telling you what I’m doing to your body. This is what we call phone sex.”
“You’re kidding, right?” She’d studied some unusual ways to avoid approaching a potential suitor from her days as an intern on assignment. Anything from having a brother or uncle ask the groom’s intended bride for her hand in marriage on his behalf, or the ghost marriage, where the wedded couple never even met until after some type of sign from long-dead relatives that the union was sound. But sex was always done together and in the actual physical presence and with the other person.
“No, I’m serious. And if you study closely, I’m going to rock your world.”
She laughed because this guy knew a word like study would really attract her attention. “You just had to put it like that.”
“I know your inquisitive mind couldn’t stand not knowing something that has to do with sexual customs.”
Her heartbeat quickened. For the first time she was with a man who truly understood what made her excited and grabbed her attention. “Well, bring it on,” she invited.
“Tell me what you’re wearing.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THIS WAS SUPPOSED to rock her world? Although she doubted anything would come from it, she said, “I went upstairs, and changed into something that originates from Hawaii.”
She heard him swallow. “Describe it.”
Ava glanced down, a little confused. Ian seemed a little more interested in female clothing than most of her male acquaintances. “Bright pink and white flowers. They’re very large, but you can still see the canary color of the background material. The costume hangs straight from my shoulders.”
“What the—? Are you telling me you’re wearing a mu—”
“A muumuu. It’s a traditional gown, which is quite comfortable.”
“I know what a muumuu is.” Ian cleared his throat.
“It’s very eye-catching.”
“I can imagine that it is,” he said drily. “When you mentioned Hawaii, I was imagining a grass skirt and a coconut shell top.”
She laughed. “You imagine like a tourist. And although Hawaiian residents prefer more muted colors than what I’m wearing, this is pretty standard. I love the puffy sleeves.”
“Keep talking about it. It’s turning me the hell on.”
“Turning you on?” Was that what she was supposed to be doing here when describing her clothes? Her breath came out in a frustrated sigh. She’d totally missed that. And she didn’t usually miss that stuff. “Ah. Let me try this again.”
Ava grabbed the zipper on her muumuu and tugged, lowering the phone downward as she progressed. “Did you hear that?”
There was another long pause.
“Ian?”
“Yes.” His voice sounded like pure agonized strain.
Ava grinned. “Thought I’d lost you there.”
“You almost did.”
Her smile turned contemplative. She loved his honesty. “From the sound of things a moment ago, you didn’t think my dress was all that sexy,” Ava said, the teasing tone now gone.
“Since I met this seductive researcher, a lot of things I didn’t realize were sexy are pretty damn incredible.”
Her heart almost slammed into her ribs. All night they’d been playing games, flirting with each other. The dance, the back and forth of courtship. But now, in the early-morning hours they’d finally arrived at the real truth. He wanted her. She wanted him.
She couldn’t explain why, but then she really had no urge to. Who a person desired, what made a woman crave a man’s touch, what made a man hunger to wrap a specific woman in his arms rarely made sense on a logical level. She’d been studying it long enough to know that.
Ian made her burn. Made her nipples ache for his touch, her skin yearn for his caresses. And despite him leaving her on the stoop earlier this evening, Ian wanted her. The signs were all there. The way his pulse had beat at his temple. The way his brown eyes slightly dilated when he looked at her.
It didn’t make sense to want this man. He wasn’t an academic, didn’t share her interests and looked at her work with a good dose of skepticism. But pheromones and biology said take this man. Now.
She didn’t have an urge to make it logical.
Ava simply accepted it.
Now she’d embrace it.
The man had suggested that phone sex was twenty-first-century foreplay. She was a researcher…she should experience it. Okay, not right. She wouldn’t use that as an excuse to take part. Justification was a strange thing. Sprang up of its own free will. Ava wouldn’t rationalize wanting Ian. She’d just go with it.
“Tell me how we get started,” she told him. Her voice husky and filled with invitation.
“Tell me where you are.”
“I’m in my living room, looking out the window.”
“Are you looking toward my hotel? Were you thinking of me before I called?”
“Well, I was thinking of you, but I had no idea where your hotel is.”
“It’s west of you.”
Ava shook her head as she looked out into the night, not even bothering to guess which way was west. “Still not helping.”
“North, south, east, west—all simple concepts. Why is it that women can never seem to ‘get’ directions?”
“Because we didn’t need to. Men have to know stuff like herds move north in the fall. As a woman, I just needed to remember that the edible roots usually grow right next to the bush with the pretty blue flowers. Don’t worry, you tell me what your hotel is next to, I’ll find you.”
“Seems like an imprecise way of traveling around. Although I like the sound of you finding me.”
“Don’t knock it. Sometimes my roots and nuts will save your meat-hunting backside. Survival is a team effort.”
“Ready to win one for the team now?”
Her brows knitted in confusion. “Uh…sure?”
“That’s an expression, Ava. Sometimes I forget you weren’t raised here.”
“So winning one for the team means something like giving us both pleasure?”
“Something like that,” he said, his voice turning gruff. “Forget the window stuff, just go to your bedroom.”
Ava took the few steps down the hallway and into her bedroom. “I’m here.”
“Set the scene. Describe it to me.”
She glanced around the room, trying to see it through his eyes. “I’ve painted it a rich, dark green. It reminds me of some of my favorite places I’ve studied. I have plants all around, small palms and orchids. Waking up to the sweet smell of flowers is one of life’s pleasures, don’t you think?”
“One of them,” he answered.
“I have a sweep of tulle making a canopy. It just didn’t feel
right sleeping without netting.”
“Your bed, Ava. Tell me about your bed,” he said, his voice raspy.
She shivered, anticipating how she’d describe it to him. “It’s pure indulgence. After sleeping in sleeping bags and cots, I opted to pamper myself. I splurged on one of those pillowtop mattresses. When I lie down on it, I feel like I’m lying on a soft cloud.”
“Lie on it now.” His voice was a rough command.
Her footfalls were almost silent as she stepped across the hardwood floor. She stretched out against the silken khaki fabric. The material was cool, but her blood ran hot.
“How does it feel against your skin?” Ian asked.
“Cool and smooth. My comforter is silk, another indulgence, but I couldn’t resist.”
He chuckled. A sensual sound that seemed to come from deep inside his body. She responded to the earthiness of it, her skin growing flushed.
“I like that about you,” he said. “I don’t want you to resist a thing. Rub the material against your skin.”
Ava lifted a corner of her comforter and ran the silky material along the curve of her neck, and moaned into the phone.
She may have heard him groan. “That’s it, Ava. Tell me how it feels as you’re doing it. Touch your breasts.”
She heard the ache in his voice. The need. Her nipples tightened, and she grew wet.
“The fabric was cool at first as I touched my skin, but my body heat has made it warmer. I’m tracing the outline of my nipple. I’m watching it get hard.”
“You don’t turn off the lights?” he asked.
“Why would I?”
He chuckled again, but it sounded more like an agonized groan. “Not a reason I can think of. Touch yourself with your hands.”
“Where?” she asked, not able to resist a small tease.
“Between your legs, but get there slowly.”
Dropping the comforter, Ava cupped her breasts. Tweaked her nipples with her thumbs. “My breasts feel heavier. Warmer. They ache to be caressed. Kissed.” By him.
This time Ian did groan. “Go lower.”
Ava wound a wavy path down her rib cage. Her stomach muscles quivered under her fingertips. She’d gone down this path on her body before. Many times. But the sensations were more taut this time. That much more sweet.
“I’ve come to my panties.” Her fingers were toying with the elastic at her hips.
“What color are they?”
“Red.”
“My new favorite color. Touch yourself through them.”
“Through them?” Surely he meant under them. The rushing of her blood in her ears must be making him hard to hear.
“Yes, through them. That’s how I’d start. I’d stroke you over those sexy red panties of yours until…”
Her toes curled into the mattress at his words. She slipped her hand down over her body, down past the elastic of her waistband. Ava’s hand went lower until her fingertips rested between her legs.
“I’m there,” she said, breathless. Wanting so much more. Waiting for what he’d say next. Wondering what he’d have her do next.
“Run your finger along yourself. Along the folds of your skin. Gently. Get yourself used to my touch.”
Ava’s eyes squeezed tight. Ian had just made it personal, told her how he’d like to touch her. Her legs began to quiver.
She followed his instruction, skimming her flesh. With a tiny gasp, she arched into her hand.
“How does that feel?” he asked.
“Good. So good.” Her breath coming out in little pants.
“I think you can do better than that,” he said. “You get to feel. I want to hear.”
“It feels amazing, but I want more. I need more.”
“That’s good.” The utter satisfaction she heard in his voice made her smile, despite her blood feeling on fire. “Circle around your clit. Don’t touch, just circle.”
Ava traced around the small area, her body growing tighter in anticipation. “Is this the way you’d touch me?” It was hard to get the words out, she was so lost in the pleasure.
“Yes,” he said, his voice clipped and filled with hunger. “When I know you’re ready for more, that’s when I slide my hand down inside your panties.”
“Do you like that?”
“Nothing compares to following that path down your body. Feeling the heat of you against my hand. The wetness that tells me how much you want me. Slip a finger inside, Ava.”
She felt the warmth, the wetness. Her hips rose to meet her finger.
“Are you imagining it’s me?” he asked.
“Yes,” she hissed. The word long and drawn out. She was close, so close to coming.
“Imagine me taking off your panties.”
“How?” she asked. But whatever way it was, she only knew she’d want it to be fast.
“Maybe with my hands. Maybe with my teeth.”
She sucked in a breath, the image of his dark head down between her legs drawing her closer and closer to orgasm.
If Ian had simply told her what phone sex was in a casual conversation, she would never have guessed a man and a woman could get such pleasure out of the act. There seemed to be a lack of connection and visual stimulation.
But experiencing it was something completely different. Hearing Ian’s voice across the line, hearing how her words and actions affected him, it was very, very sexy.
Ava pulled her hands from her body and wiggled out of her panties. She tossed them to the side and snuggled under the comforter.
“Are your panties off?” he asked, his voice desperate, as though he needed to know. Had to know. “Yes.”
“Now I touch your clit. How would you want it, Ava? With my finger or with my tongue?”
“Both,” she said. Her voice nothing but a moan.
“Greedy.” He gave her that sexy chuckle. “I’ll remember that. I appreciate a woman who enjoys oral, who’s not afraid to talk about it.”
He’d found the right woman.
“Touch your clit.”
Ava circled around it for a moment, then found the exact right spot. She gasped.
“It feels good, doesn’t it, Ava?”
She nodded, so close. So very close to exploding right there with just his rich, sexy voice to urge her on.
“Imagine me touching you. Gripping you by the hips and sliding inside you.”
“Oh, yes.” Her muscles flexed. Her body strained.
“In and out I’d stroke. I’m caressing your breasts, licking the side of your neck.”
Her motions on her body became quicker, her fingers more urgent.
“And right when you’re about to come, I’d kiss you. I want to feel your gasp of pleasure with my lips. Come for me now, Ava. Come now.”
She gave in to his words. Her senses exploded. Her pleasure arriving in wave after wave of tingles, shivers and tremors. “Ian,” she moaned.
“That’s it, Ava. I love hearing you say my name like that as you hit. Don’t hold back. I want to hear every sound you make.”
The intensity of her orgasm and his words were overwhelming. Her voice loud. Her body tense and tight. Finally, finally the sensations ebbed. Her hair clung to her face, the sheets tangled about her feet as she’d thrashed on the bed.
“Did you enjoy that, Ava?”
“Yes,” she told him, her voice still weak.
“I’ll see you in the morning. Good night,” he said softly. His voice was like another caress against her overheated and sensitive skin.
“But you didn’t get—” But the hum of the dial tone told her he’d already hung up.
Confusion assailed her. Reaching below her feet, Ava tugged the sheets around her body. Her skin still so sensitive to the touch.
She curled into a tight ball.
In protection?
She wouldn’t doubt it. She needed something like that right now. Because there was something else biology gave a woman. The knowledge of when to guard herself from certain heartbreak.
And in spite of the pleasure Ian’s sexy voice promised, the heartbreak was there, as well.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
AVA PREPARED THE SCENE carefully. Today was the first ritual she’d be working on with Ian on a one-on-one basis. She hadn’t expected to use this one today, but after the night she’d spent with Ian, the unselfish pleasure he’d given her last night, this ceremony seemed perfect.
Although she’d still take heed of the warning signals her body had sent off last night.
The oils and foods had been easy enough. The fresh flowers had been a bit hard to secure on such short notice in the wintertime, but she liked the effect of the deep purple carnations. With the help of a ladder, she’d managed to drape fabric over the windows and across the ceiling, using the ductwork.
Her front room had the very secluded, enclosed intimacy of a hut.
She’d forgone the fire for obvious reasons, but the couples using her book could easily recreate the Dravonian Sending-Off Ceremony environment with various candles, the way she’d done.
After she sliced open several black trash bags, her setting was complete.
“What’s with all the plastic on the floor?” Ian asked as he finished setting up his camera.
The man had been all business since arriving at her apartment this morning. Not a word about what had happened late last night. His attitude put her mind at ease that they could remain professional and still be sensual together.
“Oh, it’s to protect the hardwood from all the oil.”
His hand slipped on the tripod. “Oil?” he asked.
She touched the bag with her bare, red-tipped toe, and eyed him seductively. “A trash bag isn’t the most sensual or arousing prop I could have used, but it’s easily accessible for most women.”
“Did you say oil?”
Ava nodded. “Yes, for the massage. This is the Hero Send-Off. You may remember from my first draft that all the ceremonies in the book are for couples, so they can achieve the ultimate pleasure for both parties.”
She made a show of fluffing up the flowers, trying to hide her attempt at gauging Ian’s reaction. Although she’d appreciated his professional behavior, it kind of irked her on some level. “You remember, pleasure for both, right?” Her voice lower now.
