The way he’d said come like he’d been provoking her. The way he’d asked if she would rather have been fucked than masturbate. The way he’d hung up on her like the game had only just begun.
Everything about their brief conversation had ensnared her thoughts, making it hard to concentrate. Delano and Josephine were no longer the center of her sexual universe. That voice—that incredibly intoxicating voice—was.
And he’d been only a block away. In the short time they had talked, she could have walked to his sister’s apartment building for a glimpse of the man who went with that voice.
What did her unknown caller look like? Was he tall? Did he have big hands? Blond hair? Dark hair? Did he wear a suit to work, or did he wear a uniform? Or was Mr. Bourbon just some frumpy dumpy guy with a paunch who happened to have a voice for sin?
At a quarter past midnight, with her concentration waning and her arousal at a fever pitch, she called it a day and closed up shop for the night.
Five minutes later, she was naked on her bed with Zhu’s “Light it Up” playing through her Bluetooth speaker from her “Get it On” playlist.
Hornier than she’d been in ages, she stretched and arched her back, running her hands all over her body, letting herself revel in the salacious feelings her mystery man had elicited inside her for several long, luxurious minutes before pulling a few of her favorite toys from the top drawer of her nightstand and setting them beside her.
The curtains were open, but she didn’t care. She had turned off the lamp, but enough light still shone into her bedroom from the nightlight in the hall that if anyone with a telescope wanted to watch her from any of the apartment buildings on the other side of the park, they could. Let them. The idea that someone might have been watching got her even hotter.
She grabbed the bottle of K-Y Intense Pleasure Gel first and poured a few drops on her clit. This magical potion would not only intensify her orgasm, but also help prolong the fun. It had a sort of numbing, hot and cold effect. Icy hot and tingly, the lotion felt like fire-wrapped snowflakes landing on her flesh, and she moaned as she swirled her middle finger around her engorged nub.
She needed to be careful. She was already incredibly aroused with the echo of Bourbon’s voice licking her dirty thoughts into even dirtier ones. If she got too carried away too quickly, she would come too soon and end the party prematurely. And that would be a crime when what she really wanted was to savor the memory of his voice for as long as possible.
And the best way to prolong the fun was with a little kink, so the first toy she reached for was her anal plug. Like the K-Y gel, not only did an anal plug make her come harder, but just that little bit of discomfort was enough to help her hold back on the reins of her climactic reflex. The added bonus was that the plug also helped feed the fantasy that she was being taken by two men instead of one. The idea was taboo, naughty, and totally hot.
After sliding the rounded knob through her body’s natural lubricant, as well as some of the gel, she eased the plug into her anus, feeling wickedly perverse, which only got her more excited.
Somewhere in the Hamptons was a man with a voice made for fucking. Was he lying in bed right now too? Thinking about their phone conversation like she was? Doing what she was doing?
She was just about to reach for her vibrator and get serious when the sound cut off on her speaker. A moment later, her phone rang
Everything stopped, including her heart.
Could it be . . .?
She rolled onto her side and checked the screen on her phone.
Him!
Answering, she went hands-free, placed the phone back on her nightstand, and rolled onto her back again. “Hello?”
“Am I too late?” His voice purred lasciviously through her Bluetooth speaker.
“Too late for what?” But she knew why he had called.
“To help you come.”
“Maybe I don’t need your help,” she said coquettishly.
“Then I’ll just listen.”
She swirled her finger around her clit, sighing as she closed her eyes and imagined him standing over her.
“So . . . am I too late?” he asked again.
She smiled and bit her bottom lip. “Actually, your timing couldn’t have been more perfect.”
“Mmm, tell me.” His dark, silky voice poured warmth right into the heart of her.
“Tell you?” She wasn’t sure what he wanted her to tell him, but she would recite the multiplication tables if it kept him talking.
“Yes.”
“Tell you what?”
“Everything.”
“Uh . . .” Blinking, she continued working her fingers over her hypersensitive clit but had no idea where to begin.
“Have you ever had phone sex before?” His voice was cool and confident, yet quiet.
“No,” she replied coyly.
“Mm, a virgin.” She imagined him running his palm appreciatively over his mouth and beard. Did he even have a beard?
She squirmed as her arousal ate away at her inhibitions. “And you want to pluck my flower, is that it?”
“If that’s what you want.”
She was so turned on and her labia so engorged that she would be shocked if tonight’s orgasm didn’t send her into orbit.
“You’re such a gentleman,” she said, her hips pumping in shallow thrusts.
The ensuing mischievous rumble of his chuckle sent a stab of heat straight through her. “I’m no gentleman.”
She hadn’t known his voice could grow even sexier, but with just three words, he’d proved her wrong.
“You’re not?” she asked, becoming increasingly breathless.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“If I were there with you, you would know why.”
He was going to make her come. All he had to do was keep talking.
“Why?” she asked. “What would you do to me if you were here?”
“Do you
