Wilde Thing (11 page)

Roxanne glanced up at the stars glimmering in the night sky, and a soft sigh unraveled out of her. “It’s so nice and relaxing out here, I’d hate to deny anyone else the pleasure of enjoying ten minutes of this wonderful peace and solitude.”

Liz was in wholehearted agreement. “That’s what brought me down here, too, instead of spending my break in the lounge.”

“I only like to spend as much time as I absolutely have to up there in those offices,” Roxanne said, crossing her arms in front of her on the table. “Sometimes I go home after work and I hear ringing phones in my sleep.”

Liz laughed lightly, though the distaste in the other woman’s tone gave her the distinct impression that Roxanne had taken on employment at The Ultimate Fantasy not because she enjoyed phone sex and titillating callers, like some of the other operators there, but out of pure necessity. And Liz understood and commiserated with that kind of desperation, because she was in the same predicament. But at least she knew this job was temporary for her, whereas she had no idea what Roxanne’s situation was like, or how long she’d have to rely on phone sex for a living.

Opening the snack she’d brought with her, Liz held
out the bag of treats to her new friend. “Sugar cookie? I’ve got plenty to share.” And Roxanne looked like she could use some extra calories on her thin, petite frame.

Roxanne hesitated, as if she wasn’t used to such kindness, then accepted the offer with a murmur of thanks.

Liz retrieved a cookie for herself. “Do you mind me asking how long you’ve been working here?” She kept her tone curious, remembering Steve’s advice not to interrogate.

“It’s been about four months now.” Roxanne ducked her head, as if experiencing a bout of embarrassment—another anomaly for someone who made her living fulfilling verbal sex acts. “I know, you’re probably wondering what I find so exciting about the phone sex business that’s kept me employed here for so long.”

“We all have our reasons,” she said, suspecting Roxanne’s were more extreme than most. “And like me, I don’t think you find it exciting at all.”

“No, I don’t,” she confirmed, and took a small bite from her cookie. “I have two young kids to support, and this is the best money I can make without any real work skills or a college degree.”

Liz looked for a wedding ring but didn’t see one. “You’re not married?”

“I’m in the process of getting a divorce. My husband walked out on us six months ago and left me with the kids to raise and a mortgage to pay. He said he felt stifled, and off he went to find himself.”

Liz inwardly cringed, knowing too well how badly a husband’s rejection could lower a woman’s self-esteem. She and Roxanne had a lot in common, it seemed.

Finished with her cookie, Roxanne brushed the crumbs from her fingers. “I haven’t worked since my first child was born, five years ago, so finding an employer who’d hire someone as inexperienced as I am hasn’t been easy. One look at my application with no
previous jobs or references tends to turn off potential employers.”

Liz pushed the cookies toward Roxanne, encouraging her to take another, which she did. “I’d like to think someone would give you a fair chance, despite your lack of experience.” Liz was of the mind that everyone deserved the opportunity to prove themselves, and over the years she’d hired on a few people at the café without prior experience and had never regretted her decision. It was hard for her to believe that other employers could be so narrow-minded.

“A friend who used to work here told me how easy it was to get hired on and how much money I could make in a week’s time. After so many other job interviews that didn’t work out, I was getting to the point where I was feeling desperate enough to apply.” Roxanne shrugged a slender shoulder. “Antonio hired me on the spot, so he gave me the fairest chance of anyone, I suppose.”

“A friend told me about The Ultimate Fantasy, too,” Liz said, subtly shifting the direction of their conversation to her purpose for seeking out Roxanne in the first place. “Maybe you might even know her. Does the name Valerie Clark sound familiar to you?”

Roxanne thought for a moment. “Yes, it does. Does she have dark hair and green eyes?”

“Yes.” Hope sprang within Liz, but she didn’t let her anticipation show. “I haven’t been able to get a hold of her lately, and I haven’t run into her during my shifts. Have you seen her around, by chance?”

“I can’t say I have. Not this week, at least.”

With Roxanne answering her so candidly, Liz pressed her advantage. “She was dating some guy named Rob, a client of hers. Do you know anything about him, by chance?”

“I have no idea who she was seeing.” Roxanne tucked
long strands of brunette hair behind her ear. “Then again, I didn’t really hang out with her.”

Liz was certain that was Roxanne’s polite way of saying Valerie hadn’t been the type of person she’d pick for a friend. “If you happen to see her or hear anyone mention her name, will you let me know? I sure would like to get in touch with her.”

“Sure, but you’d probably have better luck talking to some of the other operators.” Roxanne’s paused, then added, “If I remember correctly, your friend Valerie spent a lot of time with a woman who goes by the name of Trixie Lane, though I don’t believe that’s her real name. But she might know where Valerie has been.”

Yes,
finally a substantial lead, and one Liz jumped on. “Is she here tonight?”

Roxanne shook her head. “Unfortunately, Trixie doesn’t work the phone end of the business anymore.”

“She doesn’t?” Confusion and disappointment mingled in her tone.

“Trixie is strictly one of the party girls, as they’re known.” Roxanne filched another cookie, obviously feeling comfortable enough with Liz to help herself to another sweet treat. “I’m sure Antonio mentioned The Ultimate Fantasy parties to you, right?”

At Liz’s affirmative nod, she continued.

“Most of the women want that promotion, because the party girls make three times as much money at one party, depending on how many clients they invite, than an operator makes in an entire week of calls,” Roxanne explained. “Once you become a party girl, it’s your choice whether you want to continue with the phone sex bit to keep the extra cash coming in.”

Liz’s eyes widened; she was stunned and amazed, and certain that Valerie had been one of those party girls. Now she had yet another reason to get invited to one of those parties—Trixie was now her best bet for
more in-depth information on her cousin, and possibly on Rob.

Liz glanced at her watch, noting the time. They only had a few more minutes before their break was over, and she still had a few more casual questions to ask. “Do you go to the parties?”

“No.” The one word was firm and adamant. “I’ve been invited, but I’m not interested. From what I’ve heard, those parties get pretty wild, outrageous, and sexual, and that’s not my thing. Neither is phone sex,” she clarified quickly, her chin jutting out with pride. “But right now it’s paying the bills. Once I get my finances straightened out, I’m going back to school in the mornings to get a degree in nursing.”

Understanding filled Liz, and she reached across the table to give Roxanne’s arm a compassionate squeeze, feeling an undeniable kinship with this young, strong woman. “With a great attitude like that, you’re going to be fine.”

“Thanks.” She smiled shyly. “That means a lot.”

“You’re welcome.” Pleased with the details she’d gleaned from Roxanne, Liz stood and gathered up the empty cookie bag to toss into the trash. “I think we need to head back up to our offices before we get docked for taking too long of a break.”

Most important, Liz didn’t want to miss Steve’s call.

“Y
ou called again.” Liz’s voice was breathless. Excited. And infused with a believable degree 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 chitchat between them, no mention of anything work-related. Just a straightforward 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. All for the sake of establishing his interest in
Sindee,
which, hopefully, would in turn get them invited to one of the fantasy parties as a couple.

“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 un- erringly
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 sitting here, thinking about what we did last night and getting very hot and bothered.”

Vivid and arousing images jumped into his mind, and he swallowed a groan. “Are you using your fan?”

“Of course I am. It’s the only thing that’s keeping me from burning up,” she teased flirtatiously. “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?”

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, were 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 and wet for me that your cream 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 cock.”

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 his shaft 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 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 risqué 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.”

“I’ll be anything you want me to be.”

He heard the tempting promise in her voice and felt the vibrations of the hot chemistry between them curl through his belly.

“Tell me what you want to do with the caramel,” she
prompted, obviously willing to indulge his private, whimsical request.

He stretched out into a more comfortable position on the bed and gave himself over to the fun, frivolous fantasy, so unlike anything he’d ever indulged in before with a woman—over the phone or in real life. “I want to pour it all over your body, starting at the hollow of your throat and continuing over your breasts and down your long legs. I want to watch the way the thick, golden syrup spills across your smooth skin, pools on your stomach, dribbles over your mound, and trickles between your thighs. And then I’d crown your nipples with the warmed caramel until they turn into taut peaks…. Are yours hard and stiff yet?”

“Yes,” she exhaled into his ear, a soft, anxious sigh that quickened his pulse.

“I’m going to make them even harder when I lick the sticky sweet caramel from your breasts, suck your nipples into my mouth, and use my tongue and teeth to clean you up.” His voice was pure gravel, and his own body heat rose a few notches. “I want more; do you?”

A breathy moan of acquiescence escaped her. “Yes, more.”

The same sexual frustration that threaded her voice also strained against the front of his boxers, and he pressed his hand against the insistent, thick ache throbbing along the length of his erection. “I’m smearing the caramel over your belly with my hands. I’m coating your thighs with it and pushing them apart so I can rub the slick substance across the lips of your sex with my sticky fingers and let it mingle with your own sweet essence.”

“Yes.” The one word was hushed, almost a whisper, but the ragged need in her tone was undeniable.

Closing his eyes, he visualized what she’d look like with all those tempting curves and tender crevices glistening
with caramel and her own desire. Absolutely, positively delectable. His mouth watered, and his heart pounded like a jackhammer in his chest.

“Now I get to feast on you,” he rasped, and licked his lips in anticipation. “I’m nibbling on your breasts, and when I’m done with them I’m going to take a soft bite from your belly and dip my tongue into your navel.” The images in his head were too much, and the sound that rolled up from his throat was a growl of pure male hunger. Raw and untamed. “You taste so damn good, and I can’t get enough. I just want to eat you up.”

Her breathing deepened, fast and shallow, as if she were on the verge of an orgasm. The thought had him stroking his cock, from the base of his shaft all the way up to the engorged tip, and wishing it were her hands on him instead. He imagined her skin flushed warm and pink, her expression reflecting erotic pleasure, and her soft green eyes feverish with the desperate need to release the tension he’d built within her.

“I want you to come,” he said in a deep, rough timbre.

She paused, then, “No, not here.”

She sounded slightly panicked, and he refused to push her for something she wasn’t comfortable giving him. He understood and respected her hesitation, considering where she was. And as much as he wanted to hear the sensual catch of her voice and long, low moans as she brought herself to a climax, he’d much rather witness all that, and more, in person.

“Later?” The simple question held a wealth of underlying meaning he had no doubt she’d pick up on.

“Yes. It’ll be worth waiting for.”

He grinned at her huskily spoken promise and knew their night together had only just begun. “Then don’t keep me waiting long.” Another subtle but unmistakable
message: he’d be at her apartment when she got home.

Liz disconnected the call with Steve—her last one of the night, thank goodness. Her skin was damp with perspiration, her heart beat erratically, and she felt hot and light-headed—not from the stifling air in the room, but from being so aroused.

She squeezed her thighs together and desperately tried to ignore how excruciatingly sensitive her breasts were, how pebble-hard her nipples felt, and the way the aching tips tingled as they rasped against the cotton lining of her bra.

Yes, she’d been so very close to coming and could have easily given Steve what he’d asked for, but something had stopped her from following through on his provocative request. After experiencing the real thing with him, the wild heat and excitement of his mouth, hands, and body pleasuring her, she didn’t want to resort to a cold, impersonal orgasm in this small room when she knew how much more satisfying it would be to let go so completely when they were together.

She pulled in a deep breath, doing her best to calm her hormones and gather her composure before she exited the room. The man was so compelling, his magnetism so potent, even over the phone. He had an unerring way of mesmerizing her and pushing all her most sensually charged buttons. He was an expert at drawing her into his fantasies and making her an integral part of them, and what a doozy tonight’s fantasy had been. Caramel, of all things, she thought with a grin, and had to give him points for being so inventive. Her sex life had never been so much fun, so playful and thrilling.

Taking off her headset, she stood and gathered up
her personal things. She had no doubt that Steve would be at her apartment waiting for her. He’d insinuated as much at the end of their conversation, and she couldn’t wait to see him.

She wanted him badly. Shamelessly. He’d turned her inside out with wanting earlier at the café, then had added to her restlessness with their seductive verbal exchange. And now her entire body vibrated with need and excitement, because she knew they were going to make love.

No,
have sex,
she amended, frowning at herself for making such a stupid mistake. Love wasn’t something that was a part of their relationship, and she’d do well to keep her emotions out of the equation.

But they’d definitely agreed on enjoying erotic pleasures and each other, and that was something she’d decided to take advantage of with a virile, physical man like Steve. And with that in mind, she wanted to make Steve as acutely aroused as he’d made her with that irresistible fantasy of his. After the way she’d surrendered to him so thoroughly last night, she wanted to be the one in control of tonight’s tryst; she was intent on driving him out of his mind with lust and satisfaction.

She knew exactly what she was going to do to extract her bit of sensual revenge, but first she had to make a quick stop at The Daily Grind on her way home, to pick up a few props.

As soon as Steve had Liz inside her apartment, he took charge with a hot, openmouthed kiss that she ended much too quickly despite the currents of awareness and sexual need sizzling between them. He had one hand under her T-shirt, palming her breast, another cupping her ass through the capri pants molding to her curves, and she deftly eluded both of his advances.

Gasping for breath, she placed a hand on his chest to
hold him at bay, her eyes sparkling bright with laughter and desire. “Hold your horses, Mr. Wilde. I have something special in mind for you tonight, and at the rate you’re going, I’m not going to be able to spoil you with the delicious, scrumptious treat I brought home for you.”

“Spoil me, huh?” He grinned, unable to remember the last time anyone had gone out of their way to indulge him with something thoughtful. “I can’t imagine anything more scrumptious than you, but you definitely have me intrigued.”

“Oh, I think you’ll find this surprise very mouth-wateringly good,” she teased, her expression a little on the sly side. From her fingertips, she dangled a white- handled paper sack with her café's logo,
The Daily Grind,
imprinted on the side. “And it’s right here, in this bag.”

So, it was from her café, which meant it was most likely something from her bakery shelves. “You brought me cookies,” he said, and reached for the bag, certain he’d guessed correctly.