All of Me

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All of Me Page 3

by ANDREA SMITH


  Although, to be honest, I’d appreciate it if he didn’t put me in that kind of situation. I’m too pretty to die so gruesomely.

  After ordering our beers, I looked around the pub, mostly out of instinct since I never prowled when Heath was with me. He was many things but a wing man, he was not.

  Chuckling at my own little inside joke, my breath caught in my throat when my eyes landed on a siren calling my dick with her bright blue eyes. She’d noticed me too, from the light pink hue that suddenly colored her cheeks.

  She wasn’t alone but from the back of the person’s head, it was obvious she was drinking with a lady friend.

  I could work with that.

  Heath had chosen the corner booth just two rows down from the blonde beauty which immediately had me revising his wing-man status.

  It seemed he was getting much better at it.

  Paying the bartender, I grabbed our drinks and smoothly made my way to my booth which conveniently happened to be in the right direction, right past my target.

  As I reached the siren’s booth, I turned on my charm and greeted her with my best seductive line.

  “Evening, ladies. Hope you enjoy your drinks,” I said with a wink, turning to include her friend in the greeting because I wasn’t a total douchebag.

  But my words got stuck in my throat when I saw who was sitting across from the blonde.

  “Autumn?” What were the chances?

  Well, actually, it all made sense. She was celebrating a new job at a pub close to the station. And apparently, no champagne flute was in view. But who was that goddess sitting across from her?

  I needed to change my pick-up locations.

  “Mr. Sex…” She didn’t have time to finish my name when her friend got to her feet and extended her hand seductively, purring, “Well hello there. I’m Summer, Autumn’s twin sister.”

  My dick stood at attention. I’m sorry, what?

  I deftly looked around for cameras. Was Heath playing a joke on me?

  Was HR testing me?

  With a quick glance at Heath just two booths down, I smiled, nodded, and toned down my sex appeal. Difficult, I know, but necessary.

  “Nice to meet you, Summer. Enjoy your celebratory drinks.” I said with a professional tone that surprised even me.

  I could see the disappointment in Summer’s eyes but I couldn’t take a chance, not now that we’d just hired our Golden Ticket.

  With a nod, I headed back to my booth and put both beers down.

  “Hot. You tapping that?” Heath said with a tone so sarcastic I thought I’d drown in it.

  “No, if you must know. I just hired the chick across from her.”

  “Oh, the Midnight Caller?” I’d told him about my new vision just minutes ago on our way to the pub.

  “The one and only.”

  “Tough break, man. She may be your golden hire but apparently she’s also your new cockblock,” he said, laughing a bit too hard at that.

  Shaking my head, I took a sip of my beer when I felt delicate skin touching my arm. Turning, I saw Summer, the twin, leaning in and whispering in my ear.

  “I’m free anytime this week after work,” she said, sliding her business card into my free palm. “Maybe we should talk about my sister’s new career... or anything else that might come up,” she finished with a wink.

  Heath was trying really hard not to laugh which was weird because he should be paralyzed with fear by the simple presence of this beautiful creature.

  He wasn’t but I sure as fuck was because there was no way in hell, I was fucking this girl.

  No. Let me rephrase that.

  There was no way I was fucking this girl without making sure her sister never found out.

  Seven

  Autumn

  “I can’t believe you did that, Summer,” I said, my legs busy pumping the pedals of the stationary bike at her fitness club. My bike was set on flat and smooth. I was holding at 50 rpm. She was on the bike next to mine, and she was keeping a steady 80 rpm set on hill climb. Show off.

  “What do you mean?” she asked, her brow furrowing. “You know I haven’t been seeing anyone since I broke things off with Jared last month. Your boss is a super hunk in case you haven’t noticed. He isn’t married is he?” she asked. “I mean, I didn’t see a ring so I just assumed he was on the market.”

  That was how my sister rolled. She never questioned or second guessed herself. If she saw something she wanted, she went after it. That must be nice I thought to myself, to be so self-assured. But the thing was, Jared had been a perfectly super guy in my opinion.

  Summer hadn’t been real clear on what the issue had been between them other than to say that she thought he was too boring. She needed more excitement, and less predictability. Besides that, Jared’s position as Pharmacy Manager at a local Walmart wasn’t particularly sexy—her words not mine.

  “Hello?” she asked, still waiting for my response. “Do you know if Dirk is married or what?”

  “Oh hell, I don’t think so,” I replied wiping the sweat from my brow with a hand towel. “He’s pretty much a shallow man whore.”

  Summer stopped peddling and looked over at me, a look of astonishment on her face. “Now how in the world would you know that?” she asked. “Did he come on to you at the interview? Because if he did, that’s a definite line he never should’ve crossed.”

  Oh God. I couldn’t tell her how I knew. I had to think fast.

  “Well come on,” I said, “He was at The Thirsty Lizard. Everyone knows that’s one of Indy’s major meat markets. He and his buddy are Lounge Lizards, you know the type, right? They cruise the bars, looking for fresh meat, or desperate women that might enjoy sucking their dumb sticks?”

  She crinkled her nose giving it some thought. “Eww,” she finally replied, “I actually never knew that about the place. I figured it was just one of those after five dives, you know?”

  “Well, duh,” I said giving her the bug eye. “So, what are you going to do if he calls you?” I questioned, part of me a bit jealous if it turned out he did.

  She chewed on her bottom lip as she started up with her peddling again. “Gosh, I don’t know now. I mean I was a bit buzzed when I made the hit. Maybe it would be weird him being your boss and all. Besides that, you know me, I don’t jump in the sack until I know for sure the guy’s character and intent is above reproach. Fuck that whole ‘third date’ rule which was obviously put out there by men who were sick of buying dinner. What do you think I should do if he does call?” she asked.

  I took a deep breath, my peddling ramping up with the thought of my sister with Dirk Sexton propelling me to push harder. “I think that’s your decision to make, Summer,” I replied. “You’re smart enough to quickly read his vibes over the phone. Give yourself some credit.”

  “You’re right,” she said bobbing her head up and down, her blonde ponytail bouncing. “If nothing else, I’ve been around the block a few times with jerks. It won’t take long to get the ick on him if he should call. Come on, let’s cool down and then start with the weights,” she suggested. “We’ve got another thirty minutes to go.”

  Ugh.

  It had been a busy day for me. After my crack of dawn work out with Summer, I had to run errands, as well as pick out a few new tops and skirts for my wardrobe. Yeah, I know one didn’t have to dress for a radio show; still I wanted to look professional. I’d gotten my nails done and then gone grocery shopping. After all, with phone cameras everydamnwhere, I didn’t want to be caught off guard and become some kind of meme. Or worse, a GIF.

  I’d stopped at PetSmart to pick up two more hermit crabs to keep Carlos, Lance, Harry and Diane company. And yes, I named my hermies. They were my beloved pets. Fascinating to watch, fun to play with, and so low maintenance. I’d made a veritable crab sanctuary for them out of a fifteen-gallon fish tank, filling it with small rocks, beach sand, a variety of tiny wooden caves, piles of sticks in th
e corner, a variety of empty shells for them to change into, and several built in ponds where they could take leisurely dips if they so chose. The problem was it appeared as if I had a cannibalistic crab among the bunch.

  Two weeks prior, while cleaning their habitat, I found Izzy’s empty crab shell. I picked up all the shells turning them over to see if she’d found a new home and nothing. I strained through every grain of sand, looked under every pebble and stick, nada. Not even a tentacle was found. Then just last week, the same thing happened with Buster. Disappeared. No evidence left except for his empty shell.

  Once home, I placed a Plexiglass divider into the tank. “Okay, here’s your new brother and sister,” I announced placing the crab I’d named Dirk and the one I’d named Summer into the one side of the tank. I found Diane and put here in the same side with them. I was going to use process of elimination to determine who the killer crab was! I tossed in a half dozen more empty shells in various sizes. “Behave yourselves,” I instructed as I placed the screen top back on the tank.

  It was nearly nine-thirty and I’d already taken care of three regulars who weren’t too creepy. It was almost like a script with them which made it fairly easy. My phone rang.

  Damn.

  If this was a talker or a newbie, I had to take the call to fruition regardless if it went past ten o’clock or not. And I so wanted to soak in a hot tub after all the sweating I’d done this morning.

  I hit the button that was lighting up on the desk phone. “Who we got Dee?” I asked with a sigh.

  “We’ve got Roland on the line.”

  My heart thudded. My God, I didn’t think he’d call again after he bared his soul to me.

  Dee continued on, “Hey did you know he phoned in the other night when you weren’t on call sounding drunk as a skunk, demanding for me to put him through to you? I had one helluva time telling him you weren’t available. What’s his deal anyway? I offered him Sabrina or Natalie, but noooo, it had to be Ramona. What the hell did you do to him girl?” she asked laughing.

  I had to chuckle at her question. If only she knew. “I guess Ramona is his go-to gal, what can I say?” I replied with my Southern twang going strong. “Put Roland through, Ramona is ready, willing, and able to scratch his itch,” I said with a giggle.

  “You got it,” Dee said. “At least he sounds sober this evening. Have fun.”

  I hung up and waited for my line to ring again, and in seconds it did. My pulse quickened knowing that I now knew exactly who Roland was, and hoping like hell I could pull this off without him knowing who I was. That could definitely hinder my up and coming career as a radio host if Dirk Sexton thought I’d been playing him.

  But, at this point, what could I do? Come clean and tell him who I really was? That wasn’t an option. Knowing what I knew so far about Dirk Sexton, his ego would never recover from the fact that somebody like me knew some of his deepest darkest thoughts and the emotional demons that he relayed, to whom he thought at the time, was a perfect stranger. And who was a perfect stranger. But not now. I was now an employee of one of his radio stations. Talk about being between a rock and a hard place. I had to pull this off. There was no other option.

  I picked up the phone, and my husky southern drawl greeted Roland. “Hey Sugar, how have you been doing? Tell Ramona all about it. I’m listening.”

  Eight

  Dirk

  I was lying on my bed, my phone firmly against my ear and my free hand lazily stroking my half-hard cock. I wasn’t necessarily jacking off, just giving my dick a well-deserved after-work massage.

  This was my moment of truth. The only time during my day where I could be myself, bare my true soul without feeling assessing eyes trying to figure me out.

  Between my father who wanted a tough, good ol’ boy and my employees who needed a boss who kept everything under control, I had perfectly built my alter ego. Hell, sometimes I forgot who I truly was.

  The only person who knew me perfectly well, and never tired of calling me out on my shit, was Heath.

  But Heath would laugh in my face if I told him I was sick of mindless one-night stands. Because…who the fuck said that? What man in his prime would seriously complain about having women, all kinds of women, willing and eager to jump in my sack? Or on my sack, whatever the case may be.

  So, I turned to Ramona with the drawl of a cowgirl and the non-negligible advantage of not knowing who I was.

  Anonymity is a gift that far too few appreciate.

  As soon as I heard her name and the lack of judgment in her voice, I was finally able to relax. That’s when my inner Dirk came out. The emotional, tired, and ready to settle down Dirk.

  Fuck that guy, right?

  Wrong.

  “Hey Ramona, how are you, tonight?” I asked, my voice calm and soothed by her presence.

  Mind you, I wasn’t a complete idiot. I knew very well that she was making bank on my phone calls. She wasn’t my therapist, after all. Although, Dr. Marie Thorne was able to pay for her all-inclusive vacation to Bora Bora with my visits, too. After I banged her on the smooth surface of her wooden desk.

  But Ramona was different. She couldn’t see me, and I wasn’t going to fuck her, so technically, this was even better than having a shrink on speed dial.

  “I’m doin’ peachy, darlin’. Just sittin’ here in my black lace lingerie and happy to talk to you. Tell me what’s on your mind, cowboy,” she purred into the phone and I almost chuckled at the thick layers of bullshit she was giving me.

  Because yes, women just sat around in lingerie talking to strange men on the phone.

  She was probably dressed in jeans and a tee and doing a hundred different things while talking to me.

  “I’m tired, Ramona. So damn tired. I feel like I’m wasting my energy being what everyone else wants while the person I want to be is screaming somewhere inside of me.”

  I couldn’t believe I’d said that out loud. I sounded like a whiny little first world bitch. Oh, woe is me.

  “Well, sweetheart, why don’t you just let good ol’ you out? Maybe you’re not giving others enough credit, ya know? Like my granny used to say, ‘Quit thinking for dumb people, you’re too smart for that.’”

  Granny sounded… wise.

  “I met this woman the other day. Well, actually, I met two. One is off limits for a plethora of reasons including that she’s not my type and the other is her twin sister.” I confessed, adding a play-by-play of the evening’s events.

  “I see. Are you gonna call this lucky lady, sugar?”

  “Probably. I just need to make sure her sister and my employee never find out we’re having sex.”

  (That would be bad. If things ended badly I could lose our newest commodity. HR would kick my balls and then serve them for lunch in the cafeteria.)

  “Well, I guess that makes sense, doll. But I have to say, I thought you wanted to end the meaningless sex? This girl sounds like a real eat ‘em up and spit ‘em out kinda gal.”

  She was right. I was trying to cut back on the one-night stands but…“Truth be told, I like to fuc…Wait, can I curse or is that a big no-no?” I asked because it would be just my luck to get black-balled by a fucking 900 number.

  On the other end of the phone, Ramona giggled and the sound went straight to my dick. For some reason it sounded real. No fake-ass southern accent. Real.

  “Don’t you worry your pretty little head, Roland. You can say fuck as many times as you’d like. I won’t tell, I promise.” She lingered a little longer than necessary on the work fuck and it sent a zing to my cock, waking him from a lazy state to a ready-to-come mode.

  My strokes began to get a bit more aggressive. My fist a little tighter. I got myself more comfortable and reveled in the sound of her soothing voice.

  “Ramona? Tell me about yourself. Right now, I just need to listen to your voice. Is that okay?”

  “Uh…yeah, sugar. But I don’t usually talk about myself. This i
s all about you and your deep desires.”

  I heard the tell tale sounds of someone swallowing. Although my brain knew she was probably drinking water, my dick suddenly imagined her swallowing the contents of his sack.

  I was now, full-on rock hard.

  Creepy, much?

  “So, I’m from Tennessee. My momma was a country singer and my daddy was a truck driver…” she started telling me the cliched story of her persona. All she needed was a dead puppy and a broken-down truck and the country song was complete.

  “…and when I was ten, he bought me a golden retriever for my birthday…” oh, for fuck’s sake.

  And yet, here I was. Ready to shoot my load because Ramona’s voice was making my balls ache with the need to come.

  “…but he got sick with…uhm…rage…from a raccoon,” wait, what?

  My hand stopped stroking because that was just…I don’t know what that was.

  Then I heard her curse under her breath, and something seemed off, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. And honestly, I didn’t give a fuck. I just needed to relax, and she was a perfect balm to my aching soul.

  We continued talking for the next thirty minutes, all the while I was absent-mindedly stroking my cock under my plaid lounge pants. My raging hard-on had subsided but my need to hear Ramona’s voice was quickly becoming an addiction.

  Finally, it was time for me to go to bed so we called it a night with a promise of another phone call. Same time, same place.

  Nine

  Autumn

  It was, as they say, SHOWTIME!

  My debut of Midnight Caller was about to go live! I was nervous as hell, but kudos to Dirk Sexton because he had spared nothing with the pre-marketing of this call-in radio show.

  He mentioned that after the trial period, stats would be gathered relative to audience demographics, popularity, and number of sponsors wanting my time slot to pimp their goods and services. If there was positive trending, he said the station would be willing to increase the marketing budget.

 

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