Beck and Call (9 page)

“Sorry,” came the giggle. “It’s just so out of character for you. I mean, the rose this afternoon and now this. I just can’t believe it.”

“Out of character? I have had sex before, you know,” Serena said stiffly.

“I didn’t mean that,” Debbie frowned. “It’s just…” She paused and shook her head. “You seem happy, Serena. If this guy makes you happy, then good for you. After Todd, you deserve happiness.”

“Thank you,” replied Serena softly, glancing over. “It’s still a bit new. And I’ve never had, um,” she grimaced, “um, phone sex.”

“Well, it must have been pretty good,” Debbie grinned. “Because you look…” she frowned. “What would you call it, Claire?”

The other woman looked up from the silverware drawer. At the obvious pain in the younger woman’s eyes, Serena felt a brief moment of guilt at her happiness.

“She’s satisfied,” Claire answered with a soft smile. “Who is he, Serena?”

Serena hesitated. She wasn’t even going to get into that.

“I’d rather not say. Like I said, it’s all still new and…” She looked at them. “He makes me feel things I’ve never felt before and I’m not sure how to deal with it.”

“Be careful,” warned Claire.

“He isn’t involved with anyone else. He…” she smiled slightly. “He wants me to feel good. He told me that my pleasure comes first for him. He said he would do everything he could to make sure I was never hurt. No one’s ever said that to me.” 62

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“Wow,” Claire whispered. “Next time you talk to him, definitely ask if he has brothers or cousins you can hook us up with.”

“Hmph!” Debbie snorted. She glanced at Serena and winked at her. “Just because I’m happy for Serena doesn’t mean I’m ready to settle down and make babies.”

“Wait a second!” Serena gasped, even as she understood that Debbie wanted to get Claire’s mind off her heartache. “Who said anything about settling down and making babies?”

“Hey, you just turned thirty, remember?” came the tease as Debbie pulled a bottle of chardonnay out of the fridge. “That clock is ticking louder. Tick.

Tock. Tick. Tock.”

“Honestly!” groaned Serena, scraping all the carrots into the bowl where lettuce, celery, and scallions were waiting. “You’d think I had one foot in the grave!”

“Claire, where did she put her cane?” Debbie grinned as she worked the corkscrew. “She seems to have forgotten where it is.”

“Forgotten it? Give me a cane and I’ll whack you with it you, you young whippersnapper!” Serena laughed, trying and failing horribly to sound like an old woman. All three women giggled hysterically.

“Oh, Lord, and we haven’t had any wine yet. You are so slow, Deb!”

“I’m working on it,” she laughed.

“Maybe I should help?” Serena offered. “Even my poor, weak muscles should be able to move faster than…”

Pop! Debbie grinned. Chuckling, Claire got the glasses.

“Good thing I stocked up on aspirin,” Serena sighed as Debbie poured the wine. And filled all three glasses to the brim. “I haven’t done this since I was about six,” she muttered, bending down to slurp 63

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the wine so it wouldn’t spill when she picked it up.

“And what happened when you did?” Claire asked, mimicking her action.

“My mother swatted my rear,” she said dryly.

“And what would she do if she knew about your phone sex?” Debbie asked archly.

Serena froze. “She’d do a lot more than swat at me,” she whispered. Her hands started shaking. “Oh, God…”

“No,” Debbie shook her head. “Don’t even think about it. I’m sorry I asked.”

Sighing, Serena picked up the tongs and mixed the salad.

“No, it’s okay. I think we all hear our mothers criticizing our actions and choices. It’s not easy sometimes, is it?” She glanced at Claire, who shook her head. “So, we do what we have to do to live our own lives. We order pizza, open however many bottles of wine we need to, and hold onto friends who understand us more than our own families.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Claire stated, raising her glass.

They clinked their glasses and drank.

There was a knock on the door.

“Yes! Pizza!” Debbie put her glass down and hurried to the door. “I’m starved.” Laughing, the other two picked up the salad, forks and plates. Putting them on the leather trunk Serena used as a coffee table, they listened as Debbie flirted with the delivery boy. Retrieving the wine glasses, Serena grinned as Claire was pulled into the laughing conversation.

They all needed this, she smiled, pulling another bottle out of the fridge. Tucking it under her arm, she caught up the corkscrew with her pinkie as she scooped up the glasses. This was the perfect night.

By midnight, the perfect night had disintegrated into a wine-filled haze.

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Within minutes of starting the movie, Claire was crying about Paul’s interest in a threesome.

After blowing her nose and splashing cold water on her face, she appropriated a bottle and proceeded to drink the contents. Exasperated with her roommate, Debbie scarfed down two slices and opened another bottle. Serena tried to coax them into making their usual sarcastic or witty comments about the dialogue, but gave up after thirty minutes. As the romantic comedy droned on, she pulled into herself and went over the phone conversation with master.

Debbie made a few incoherent comments about the men in the Programming Department that pulled Serena out of her daze. When she pressed for more information though, Debbie refused to say anything else. Compared to their previous movie marathons, the night was a bust. Clearly, when all three were having ‘men’ problems, romantic movies were off the viewing list.

The next morning, Serena’s alarm clock went off.

“It’s Saturday, dammit,” she groaned reaching over to shut the thing off. Her gaze fell on the cell phone she’d left on the nightstand. “Master,” she whispered.

Heat flooded her pussy. He would be calling at ten. Twenty minutes. She sat up and groaned.

Taking a deep breath, she slowly put her feet on the ground.

“Oooo, coffee,” she whimpered.

Entering the kitchen she saw the four empty bottles lined up on the counter and grimaced.

“Coffee,” she muttered and was exceedingly grateful she’d set it up the night before. Hitting the on switch, she turned the radio on. The music blasted and she promptly turned it off. “Wrong answer,” she shook her head. “Aspirin,” she said.

“Now that’s the right answer.”

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Heading into her bathroom, she found the bottle and popped two in her mouth. Drinking a glass of water, she brushed her teeth and splashed water on her face. Feeling more human, she returned to the kitchen to find the coffee nearly ready. She was taking her second sip when the phone in the bedroom rang. He was early!

“Master,” she gasped, hurrying to find the phone. It was on her nightstand. “Master?”

“Expecting someone else?” he chuckled. “How was last night?”

“A bit somber,” she replied. “We kept a vineyard in business. I don’t remember drinking that much, but we finished off four bottles.”

“How are you feeling?”

“I’ve taken aspirin and I have my coffee,” she sighed. “I’ll be okay in a little bit.”

“Good,” he said decisively. “Get the vibrator and lube and snuggle back against the pillows.” Remembering how she had felt the night before, Serena scrambled to get the items.

“Put the phone on speaker?” she asked, clambering back under the covers.

“Yes,” he approved. “Good girl. Ready?” She hit the button.

“Yes.”

“Put lube on the vibrator and put it inside you.” She raced to comply. It took a second to get the vibrator inside her as her body resisted the intrusion even with the lube.

“It’s harder than it was yesterday,” she told him.

“I’m not as ready as I was.”

“You knew I was going to call,” he replied sternly. “You should always be ready for me.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you’d want me to do this,” she trembled. “I told you I’ve only been with two men. Todd…” she stopped and tried to get control of herself. “Todd…”

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“Shh,” he murmured. “Take a breath and tell me slowly. Why did you break up with him?”

“It was a lot of things,” she finally said. The vibrator still inside her, she rolled onto her side and curled up. “He wanted to go out and have fun and didn’t like me studying all the time.”

“Studying?”

“I’ve been working on my MBA at Columbia the past four years and finally graduated in June. My grandfather was diagnosed with dementia three years ago and then with cancer. But he always knew who I was when I visited him and he was with me when I graduated. He was so proud of me.”

“What did your grandfather think of him?”

“I was his only granddaughter,” she smiled. “He didn’t like any of the boys I dated in high school and definitely didn’t like Todd. He said Todd only cared about the outside of a person and that if I stayed with him he would suck the life out of me.”

“What do you think of him?”

“Grandpa was right. I didn’t know how right until Todd got angry when I wouldn’t use a bonus to take him on a trip and—”

“What about him taking you on a trip?” When she didn’t answer, he pushed. “Serena, answer me.

Why didn’t Todd ever take you on a trip?” Still silence. “What did Todd do for a living?”

“He… was a club and restaurant critic. I mean, I know he had to go out as part of his job, but…,” she sighed. “I’ve never been big on the whole club scene.

I like an occasional outing or party, but not non-stop nearly every night of the week as well as through the weekend.”

“Sounds like you were two very different personalities,” he commented. “How did you get together in the first place?”

“My former supervisor introduced us.” She giggled nervously. “I guess that should have told me 67

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something.”

“Is there a problem with your former supervisor introducing you to someone?”

She froze.

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“Oh, God,” she breathed. “Who are you? Are you Mark? No!” she whispered. Her voice quivered in terror at the idea. “I don’t care what Keith says. I’ll tell Penny.” Her voice rose with each word. “I’ll tell her what happened and—”

“Calm down!” he snapped. “I’m not Mark.” She was nearly hysterical. “Serena!” She gasped and struggled to control her breathing.

“I’m sorry,” she panted. She heaved in three deep breaths and held herself still. “I’m sorry. It’s just…Mark was my supervisor and he’s engaged to Keith’s cousin. Penny is sweet and caring and naïve and she has no clue what Mark is really like.”

“Then tell your boss.”

“I have. But he’s preoccupied with something.

He…” she took a deep breath. “I’m not going to discuss my boss. He is off-limits as a subject of conversation.”

“Do you hate your boss as well?”

“Of course not!” she protested. “But I don’t know who you are, and it just wouldn’t be right discussing my boss with you. He trusts me with a lot and…” she shook her head. “It just wouldn’t be right.”

“I see your point,” he answered. “And I hope I can earn the same respect, trust, and discretion in our relationship.”

“From what I read in the second book you gave me, all those things need to go both ways,” Serena replied. “But I was only able to read a couple pages before I had to get things ready for the girls.” 69

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“What did you read?”

Serena squirmed on the bed, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks.

“Serena?”

“Um, well,” she started, voice barely audible. “I focused on the pages you’d marked about, um, how a submissive behaves with their master.”

“I like that,” came his reply, warm with approval. “It shows you are taking this seriously.

That you want please me.”

“I do,” she said eagerly. “I… I just hadn’t gotten to the part about being ready for sex. I’ve never been very good at it. And I’ve never really enjoyed it.”

“What? Sex?”

“Yes,” she sighed miserably.

“Serena, it sounds like the bulk of your experience has come at the hands of selfish assholes with no clue as to how to take care of a woman.” Absolute certainty rang in his words and warmed Serena’s heart. “Now,” his voice dropped an octave,

“in the hands of a man who takes pride in giving his woman pleasure, I am quite sure you will feel differently about sex.”

“Really?” There was hope in her voice. “Reading the first book made me realize there might be more to sex. And the second…”

“What about the second?”

“To be honest, I really wasn’t sure I’d keep it or do anything with you. I’ve always been told that people who like this stuff were perverts and mentally unstable, among other things.”

“Do you still feel that way?”

“I’m not sure what to think. The page you marked about the type of relationship you wanted fits my own needs,” she said, choosing her words carefully. “People who take care of each other; they talk and find out what the other wants out of life, what they want to do. Do you really want that?” 70

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She heard the wistfulness in her voice and winced. Could she sound any more needy? More desperate?