“You called again.” Liz’s voice was breathless. Excited. And infused with a believable amount of coyness that added to her sexy act, and effortlessly fired Steve’s blood. “I wasn’t sure you would.”
Grinning lazily, Steve settled back against the pillows he’d shoved up against the headboard of his bed. Tonight, there was no idle chit-chat between them, no mention of anything work-related. Just a straight-forward intro into phone sex, all for the benefit of the transcripts Antonio would read.
Playing along with the charade on his end was no hardship. He’d been contemplating their provocative conversation for the past two hours, what they’d talk about, and where it would all lead. And just like last night, he was prepared to mix business with the kind of adventurous fun inherent in a titillating verbal exchange with Liz.
“I can’t stay away,” he murmured, low and deep, his groin already stirring in anticipation of the playful, naughty banter that would ensue between them. “I’m addicted to you, and there’s no one else I want.”
All unerringly true statements that worked exceptionally well into their verbal performance. To anyone listening, he was definitely staking a personal claim on her. One that felt all too real and went beyond the benefit of persuading her boss that he was a client worthy of an invitation to the salacious side of The Ultimate Fantasy.
“Mmm, I like the sound of that, and you,” she purred huskily, the sensual sound as intimate as a physical stroke across his abdomen and thighs. “I was secretly hoping you’d call again, because I can’t get you out of my mind either. Not after last night. I can’t stop thinking about the way your hands felt caressing my body, the wet warmth of your mouth on my breasts, and that wicked tongue of yours that brought me such incredible pleasure. Do you remember what you did to me last night?”
Vivid and arousing images jumped into his mind, and he swallowed a groan. She could have been referring to the sexual act they’d performed during their phone call, but he instinctively knew she was talking about the hot, wild tryst that had followed at her apartment afterward. While he enjoyed how assertive she was with him now, how explicit and frank, he wasn’t about to let her control all of tonight’s seduction.
“I remember everything.” Their encounter last night, and her uninhibited response to him, was indelibly etched in his mind. “The way you taste, how soft your skin is, and how feminine you smell, all over. You were so hot for me that you drenched my fingers the moment I touched you. I especially remember the needy sounds you made in the back of your throat when I finally pushed deep inside you, and how tight and lush your body felt clenching around my shaft.”
A ragged breath rushed out of her, the only sign that he might have shocked her, just a little bit. But if he had startled her with his unabashed recollection of their time together, she recovered quickly.
“You were very good last night,” she said, a sultry smile in her voice. “I’ve never been so thoroughly satisfied before.”
The stroke to his male ego felt exceptionally good. But masculine pride aside, it was easy to believe her statement because he’d felt her climaxes and those internal muscles contracting around his fingers, then cushioning him in silky, binding heat as she milked him to his own release. And afterward, he’d witnessed the replete look of a woman completely satiated.
“I aim to please,” he drawled in reply, and only with her would he be so blatantly arrogant, so sure of himself.
“You do,” she assured him. “Tell me, what would you like tonight?”
“Are you on the menu?” he asked boldly. At the moment, he was feeling incredibly hungry, ravenous - for her.
“I’m always on the menu,” she said, her laughter soft and oh-so-bewitching. “Why don’t you tell me a fantasy of yours, and we’ll go from there?”
He glanced across the room and caught his reflection in the sliding mirrored closet doors opposite his bed. He’d never invited a woman into his bedroom, had never really given those decorative mirrors a whole lot of thought. Until now. With Liz. He found himself fantasizing, contemplating that length of mirror that spanned half of his bedroom, and being able to watch his and Liz’s naked images, her expression and his own as he moved over her, within her, their bodies entwined in the throes of heated passion.
Definitely a scenario he’d enjoy pursing with her.
He considered her question, and while he had no problem coming up with a dozen lusty male fantasies, he found himself very undecided. “I’m a guy, sweetheart. I have many fantasies.” And lately, they’d all featured her in the starring role.
“Pick a favorite, any one that excites you the most,” she cajoled seductively. “And then we’ll see what we can do about making it a reality for you.”
God, she was good at this phone sex stuff, he admitted begrudgingly. The hard-on tenting his boxers was ample proof of her ability to entice and arouse his mind and libido with her velvet-lined voice and engaging words. Then again, she’d given him a very unforgettable demonstration of her ability to stimulate his senses that afternoon at the café, when he’d dared her to lick the caramel off his finger and she’d sucked on him in a very shameless, mind-blowing way.
Awareness licked through him, and a sinful grin lifted the corners of his mouth. He knew exactly what fantasy he wanted to share with her.
“How about you, covered in warm caramel sauce?” he suggested wickedly, playing on the risque game he’d instigated at the café. “Everywhere.”
“You’re a very bad boy,” she murmured, the knowing tone of her voice insinuating that she realized exactly what had inspired his fantasy.
“Someone once told me that they found caramel to be an aphrodisiac, when drizzled on the right dessert, of course,” he said meaningfully. “I think I have to agree, and I want you to be my dessert.”
She exhaled into his ear, a soft, anxious sigh that quickened his pulse. “I’ll be anything you want me to be . . .”
