by Scott, Kylie
“Do I have to drink the icky-looking one?” she asks, the disgust clear in her tone.
“You have to taste it. And I’d be very pleased if you at least drank half of it.”
I wait in silence for a full thirty seconds.
“It’s actually not bad. Tastes like strawberries and bananas. Could use some whipped cream though, and a new color. No one willingly thinks, oooh green drink. Yum.”
“As you said, it tastes good. Ignore the color and no, absolutely no on the whipped cream. Drink your drink, sip your coffee, and tell me what happened.”
She sighs heavily and then inhales. “After dealing with an insanely annoying call from my ex Sean yesterday, Mom called.”
“Why did your ex call?” I pinpoint that bit of information immediately. My hackles rise. I wonder if she’d willingly give me his number.
“It doesn’t even matter. He doesn’t matter. The man is so self-centered. He was more worried about my retirement status during these trying times than he was about me. Eventually I told him to piss off.”
I smile wide and cross my knee over the other. “Atta girl! Good. You don’t need him bringing you down.”
“No, I have enough of that without him.” Her tone goes back to sounding hurt and worried.
“Tell me what’s going on with your folks.”
“Mom called yesterday. Told me Dad had been feeling under the weather for a couple days. It got worse. He was throwing up, couldn’t keep food down, has the shakes, and was running a high fever.”
“Oh, Sadie.”
“Mom took him to the hospital, and she said it was insane. They waited hours and hours to eventually get a space in a room filled with ten or more other people. The staff are overrun, everyone is wearing masks, gloves, and smocks. Said it felt like she was inside that movie Contagion.”
“Jesus. I’ll bet she was really scared.”
“Yeah.” Her voice is small, but she continues. “They tested him for influenza A and B, not COVID-19 though.”
“Why the hell not!” I stand up and pace the room feeling like an animal stuck in a cage. He’s in his early sixties. Seems like they should be testing anyone and everyone that’s sick just to rule it out. I keep those thoughts to myself.
“Apparently he wasn’t having chest pain or shortness of breath with the other symptoms.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“I wish I were. He tested positive for influenza, but he still could have the virus. I’m so scared. They sent him home after pumping him full of fluids and acetaminophen. I’m worried he could end up dying because they wouldn’t test him and treat him for the virus.” She breaks out into bone-wracking sobs that have my knees weak.
“I’m coming over!” I head to the door.
“No! I won’t open the door. We haven’t been in quarantine for fourteen days. They say symptoms arise within a two-week timeframe.”
“I don’t care, Sadie. You need me right now.”
She lets out a shaky breath. “No, no. We can’t risk it. I’d feel horrible if I ended up being sick and then gave it to you. It would destroy me. We can’t be selfish right now.”
I press my head to the wall that connects with her apartment.
“You know he’s going to be okay, right?”
She inhales long and slow before letting it out. “I want to believe that, Evan. From your mouth to God’s ears.”
“Just think positive thoughts, yeah? Would your Dad want you worrying like this?”
“N-no. He’d be pretty upset. He doesn’t ever like to be seen as weak. And he’s normally in such good health.”
“Let’s focus on that. Besides, people get the regular old flu all the time. Right?”
“Yes, they do.”
“And usually lots of fluids and being on your ass while getting pampered does the job. I’m sure your mother is tending to him like a badass nurse.”
“How did you know?” She chuckles.
“I love hearing you laugh. Brightens up my entire day.”
“Even with it raining outside?” She sounds a little more upbeat.
“This is so fucked up. You know what I want more than anything?”
“What? Tell me?”
“I want to hold you, tell you everything will be okay. Kiss your forehead…and your lips. Christ, what I wouldn’t give to taste your mouth. Make you feel what I’m feeling deep inside.”
She gasps but then whispers, “I wish that too.”
I press my palm flat to the wall trying to feel her energy, her presence, just beyond the barrier. “Sadie, this thing between us. It’s growing every day. Do you feel it? Tell me you feel it too and I’m not alone?”
“I…I feel it too. I don’t understand it, but I can’t deny it’s there. The attraction…”
“Is off the fucking charts.” I shake my head and press harder into the wall.
“We’ve only known each other a week and we haven’t so much as touched. How can this be real?”
“I don’t know, sweetheart, but it’s more real than anything I’ve felt before. I crave you. I lie awake at night and imagine what you taste like. How your skin would feel against mine. What your hair smells like. How you’d sound when I kiss your mouth, your neck, shoulders, and lower. I’m obsessed with thoughts of being with you intimately.”
“My word, Evan. The pictures you paint.” Her voice is lower, more seductive.
“Do you want that, Sadie? My mouth on yours. My fingers teasing your skin?” The vision of touching her flashes across my mind and my dick aches.
“Are you trying to turn me on?” Her question is breathy and filled with what I hope is desire.
“Is it working?” I run my hand down and cup my hardening shaft.
“Yeah,” she admits. “But I’m not sure about this.”
“Just let me try and take your mind off things for a minute or two, okay? Ease some of that stress. It’s just you and me. And you know you’re safe with me.”
There’s a pause, but then she says, “Okay.”
“Are you sitting down on the couch?”
“Y-yes.”
“Are you imagining me kissing you? Touching your skin. Running my fingers along your sides, up your ribcage.”
“Oh my…” Her breath is coming a little faster.
“Are you touching your breasts?”
“I am now.”
I bite down on my bottom lip at the vision of her splayed out on her couch, holding the phone to her ear, and touching herself to the sound of my voice. “Good. Play with your pretty nipples for me. Tell me what they look like. What color are they?” I shove down my workout shorts and let my hard dick fall free. I grip the base and stroke up once, imagining her touching her sizable tits. Even just hearing her excited breaths like this is a dream come true.
“I’ve never had phone sex before.”
“No? But it feels good, doesn’t it? It feels right. My voice leading you, encouraging you, telling you what to do.”
“Y-yeah.” She pants.
“Now focus, Sadie. Your breasts. Tell me all about them. I’m fucking dying here, needing to know.”
“They’re uh…pale pink, about the size of a quarter each. Though the tips are hard right now.”
Hearing her talk like this… It’s official, there isn’t a drop of blood left in my head. Braindead from phone sex with Sadie. What a way to go. “I’d suck them into tight little berries. Make them red and burn with the heat of my mouth. Pinch them like I would.”
She moans so loud I swear I can hear her through the wall. I press the phone closer to my ear. “I’m so hard for you.”
“Tell me,” she half sighs and groans at the same time.
“Long and thick. I’ve got my hand stroking up and down. My arousal is beading at the tip. God, if only your mouth was in front of me.”
“I’d flick that drop with my tongue and take you deep into my mouth. Wanting you weak with desire at the control I’d have over you,” she promises.
I hiss through my teeth. This is going to last like thirty seconds max. We’re both too on edge. And it is perfect. “You like control in the bedroom, baby?”
She hums. “Sometimes. I enjoy socking cock. I’d enjoy sucking your cock.”
“Jesus, you’re gonna make me come. Dip your hand into your panties and tell me how wet you are right now?”
“Oh, Evan. I’m wet. Very wet.”
“Are you dripping for me? Spin two fingers around your hard little clit. Over and over. Can you feel me touching you?”
“Yes, fuck. Yes, I can.”
“Good. I’d plunge two fingers inside your heat and then use the moisture there to make your clit as slippery as my tongue. Then I’d repeat the move until you were begging me to fuck you.”
“I’m close…” She sighs and her breath comes in short bursts through the phone.
“Me too.” I grip my dick harder and thrust my hips, creating the perfect friction, ramping up the speed as I listen to her little mewls and sighs. “Fuck, I’m gonna blow, baby. You want to hear me come while you finger fuck yourself?”
“You’re so dirty,” she drawls languidly.
“I can hear how much it turns you on. Fuck yourself harder. It’s my fingers inside you plunging deep, twirling around your hard clit. If I was there, I’d suck your little bundle into my mouth until you scream.”
And that does it.
Sadie cries out. At the sound of her release, my cock shoots off. “Fuck yeah, Sadie. Baby…” Rope after rope of my essence jets onto my hand and the wall I’m facing. I don’t even try and quiet myself. I want her to hear it all.
“Good Lord, that was good.” Her breaths are still fast, but I can hear the joy in her tone. It makes me feel like a king. Like a god that I could give this to her. “Was it good for you, handsome?”
“I just shot my load all over the wall in Jake’s apartment.” I laugh dryly.
“Aw, you were pressed against the wall?”
“Wanted to be as close as possible to you,” I admit. This woman makes me crazy for her. If I could go outside, I’d be carving our initials into a tree. It’s insane.
“That’s quite romantic for a man that just took me from crying over my parents to crying out in orgasm in the span of a phone call. Rather impressive.”
“I’ll take that as compliment and raise you one with an important question.”
“Which is?”
“When are we going to do it again?”
* * *
SADIE
After the stellar phone sex, we simply move into regular conversation. I find Evan to be a great conversationalist. When he asks about my book, I can’t help but fill him in on all the details—sans the part where the hero and heroine are loosely based off of us.
“They should do it doggie style.”
I burst out laughing. “No, Evan. Sheesh. The sex has to further the story and say something about the hero and heroine and their relationship. You have to hook the reader, engage their minds and their emotions. Sex in a romance is a reflection of the hero and heroine’s growing intimacy.”
“Evolution through screwing, huh?”
“Basically, yeah. So you can’t have them doing doggie the first time they hit the sheets. Where’s the romance in that? It’s a straight up horny porn position. Him behind her, out of her line of sight. That takes a certain amount of trust that probably hasn’t yet been established between them. And her staring at the headboard or pillows or whatever. She’s not getting to see how she’s affecting him, if this moment is as important to him as it is to her. Maybe he’s just getting off. Maybe he’s thinking about his ex. She doesn’t know.”
“Hmm.” The man does not sound convinced.
“Later on in their relationship when they’re just going at it hard, sure, great. But for their first time? That doesn’t work.”
Since the horrible scary news about Dad, I’ve gotten no work done. My head is an even bigger mess than normal. I’ve done little but pace and cry my heart out since Mom told me. And it’s not like I have tissues to spare for blowing my nose after crying jags either. An old tee has been sacrificed to the cause.
Luckily, Evan snapped me out of the panic spiral for the time being. With phone sex of all things. I did not see that one coming. I’m even smiling a little, though my parents are never far from my thoughts. Dad has got to be okay. He’s going to be okay. I couldn’t handle it otherwise. And poor Mom—stuck at home alone dealing with a seriously ill person and all of this. Unfortunately it’s too late for me to fly home to Texas, so there’s no point even worrying over it or feeling guilty. Doesn’t stop the negative thoughts from filling my mind and affecting my mood. I couldn’t be more thankful for Evan’s support right now. He’s slowly easing his way into my heart as well as my panties.
“I strongly disagree. I think there’s plenty of romance in smacking and tapping a gorgeous round ass. Sliding your hand up a woman’s spine and grabbing her hair, giving it a tug. It’s a beautiful thing. How can you not see that, Sadie? Where’s your imagination?” He chuckles.
I finish off the last of the coffee and take another cautious sip of the smoothie. So green. My body won’t know what hit it with all of this healthy stuff. “Doggie style is pure smutty fun sex. I have nothing against the position. It definitely has its place in the bedroom.”
“Or the living room, dining room, maybe even the kitchen.” His words are laced with innuendo.
“Yeah, but then you’re dealing with possible trauma to the girl’s knees. Stop and think. How is she going to wear a flirty short skirt out to dinner with the hero in the next scene if she’s got carpet burn or scratches from tiles, huh? Sheets and a mattress are just kinder all round.”
He chuckles. “You’ve given this a lot of thought.”
“It’s my job. I dissect relationships and sex for a living. Ponder the secrets of life and love. Figure out new ways to come at one of the oldest stories there is—two people falling for one another. Or more than two. I don’t write poly, but I sure read it.”
“You’re open to a threesome?” he asks, quick as a whip.
“I didn’t say that.”
“Hmm. On second thought, I don’t think I’m interested in sharing you. Forget I asked.”
“Will do. For what it’s worth, I feel the same. When we finally get to be in the same room together, I don’t think there needs to be anyone else, thank you very much. But back to the story…”
He clears his throat. “Right. So they meet during the lockdown and live near each other?”
“That’s right.” No need to go into too many details. Besides, I’m not exactly sure how I’d explain how semi-autobiographical certain aspects are. One major life disaster/concern at a time is best for now. “He rescues her from a mugging. Takes her up to his apartment. Offers comfort that evolves into sexual shenanigans.”
“Meaningful sexual shenanigans,” he corrects helpfully. Such a boy scout.
“That’s right. You have been listening.” I smile.
“Sadie, baby, I hang on your every damn word. How have you not noticed this yet?”
Oh God. My stomach drops through the floor. It kills me when he talks sweet to me. How his voice goes all husky, the volume dropping so that he’s whispering to me in a way that makes it seem like we’re the only two people in the whole wide world. The man goes to my head faster than champagne. I take another sip of the evil green drink to ground me. “I’m noticing, trust me.”
“Good.”
“You know, I was a little worried you’d friend-zoned me.”
“Really?” he asks. And there’s something in his tone. Something not quite right.
Wait. Did that sound bad? I think that sounded bad. What if he thinks I only want him for sex? Like only his ridiculously hot body matters to me. Shit. “Not that being just your friend wouldn’t be wonderful and fulfilling. I just hoped maybe we’d become more than that, you know? But friendship with people is great too an
d we all need someone at our back. Especially during hard times like these. Attraction isn’t everything. That we can spend time together just chatting and getting to know one another is great. And we laugh a lot together, right? We enjoy each other’s company. Which is really important to me, I want you to know that.”
Nothing from him.
“Evan?”
“Are you finished freaking out there or did you want to reassure me some more?”
“I just didn’t want you to think that…you know. Don’t tease me, you brute. I’m stressed out enough as it is.”
He chuckles some more. “I live to tease you. And I don’t think that. Relax, sweetheart. We both have a strong desire to be intimate with each other and that’s a beautiful and natural thing. It’s what adults do to express a deep and abiding affection—they get naked and bang each other’s brains out.”
“Aw. More romance. Have you ever considered writing poetry? I think you have a gift.”
“You do? Let me see,” he says, making a noise in his throat. A thinking noise. “How about this? Roses are red, Sadie likes blue, you’re not going to walk straight for a week, once I get my hands on you.”
I almost fall off the sofa from laughing so hard. “Oh my God, Evan.”
“You like it?”
“That’s hilarious. And you wish, big boy. I have seen nothing yet to make me think you’re packing all that. I think someone’s been fawned over by one too many cheerleaders.”
And then there’s another one of those silences. Awkward and long. Either I’m the worst conversationalist in history or there’s something going on.
“Shit,” he finally mumbles. And he sounds so sad. Like all of the happiness and good times have been sucked straight out of his world. I’ve seen him happy and grumpy and several degrees between. But this is something entirely different. “Sadie, there’s something I have to tell you.”
“What?”
“You’re probably going to see things on social media once the test results get released, anyway. Better that you hear it from me.”
“Hear what from you?”
“I guess hearing about your dad getting sick and all, you haven’t gotten around to Googling me, huh?”
