by Jodi Redford
It was the lamest attempt in history at changing the subject. Fortunately, Harper let it slide. “No. Since they want to shoot at least one group scene on the stage using our opening number, we’ll use those costumes.”
“Cool beans.” Stooping, he kissed the crown of her head. “See you tomorrow.”
Harper appeared on the verge of saying something. Instead, she snapped her mouth shut with a nod and climbed inside her Vette. Grateful to make a getaway without further uncomfortable convos, he journeyed to his pickup truck.
Slipknot’s latest CD soundtracked his drive home. Thank God for heavy metal. Better than caffeine at keeping him awake behind the wheel. He pulled into his single reserved space across from his apartment unit and killed the engine. Only other signs of life were the swarms of fishflies invading the nearby light pole. Those damn insects were way more energetic than he was at the moment.
Not that long ago, dragging his ass home at one in the morning had been a lifestyle choice. Back then, he’d walk into walls after imbibing a few too many adult beverages. Damn miracle if he made it to his bed before passing out. The only cause for him staggering through the door these days? Exhaustion. Pure and simple.
He tossed his keys in the general direction of the console and kicked off his sneakers. Smothering a yawn with his fist, he trekked to his hidey-hole of a bedroom cubbied in the corner of his equally tiny studio. Yeah, the place was barely bigger than a closet, but it didn’t come with a belligerent old man who enjoyed cracking him one with a beer bottle. He flopped on top of the mattress without bothering to remove his jersey track pants. “I’m getting too old for this shit.”
At twenty-six and some change, he was far from being the youngest dancer at the club. Not that he was ready for the stripper retirement home yet, but night’s like this his joints gleefully reminded him who was the boss. He crooked an arm over his eyes and exhaled wearily.
He must have dozed off because his snore woke him a second later. Groaning, he dropped his hand and glanced at the alarm clock. Two a.m. Shit. He’d fallen asleep and missed his call to Charlie.
An odd emptiness settled in the pit of his stomach. He never missed a night. Stalling in mid-thought, he replayed that realization. Holy hell, that made him sound like a major pervert. Daily phone sex for the past year. No wonder he was always broke.
But it wasn’t only about the sex. There were plenty of times they didn’t even get each other off. They’d talk about movies and weird but extremely important stuff, like whether or not Scrappy Doo is one of the most annoying cartoon characters of all time. Spoiler alert—he is. In the last several months their conversations had become increasingly more intimate and deep.
She knew things about him that he never shared with anyone, including how he’d lost his virginity at fourteen in an attempt to anesthetize away his pain over his mom’s cancer diagnosis. In turn, Charlie told him about her own grief and struggle with her grandma’s passing. Particularly how rough the last few months were when the Alzheimer’s made Charlie and her sister, Kaitlin, strangers to their grandma. He and Charlie had bonded over their experiences, growing closer than ever. Despite that, he didn’t talk about his dad. She didn’t know about The Grinder. He didn’t want those things to ruin what they had, so they’d remain locked away in his chest of unspoken things.
Plowing his hands through his hair, he stared at the ceiling. Great. Now he was wide awake and wired. Like a junkie a week out from his last fix. Only, in this case, it meant getting through the night without hearing her voice. How was that remotely doable?
Listen to yourself. You sound like a crazy person. Just pop a damn sleeping pill and be done with it.
Unless...
He peered at the glowing numerals on the clock. Two a.m. wasn’t all that late. Sure, for normal people, maybe. But not them. Odds were good she was still awake. If not, he’d leave a message and apologize for missing their time. It’d be the decent thing to do.
The constricting heaviness lifting from his chest, he dug his cell phone from his pocket and scrolled through his contacts for Charlie’s 800 number. He pressed the Send button, relief already working its magic on him.
Two rings got through before her husky, slightly sleepy voice rasped across the line. “Hello, McHorny.”
He grinned at the nickname she’d christened him with after their spirit animal chat. “How did you know it was me?”
“Who else would call me at two in the morning?”
“Oh, I dunno. Maybe one of your other clients who is way less awesome and horny than me?”
She snorted. “If that last part was true I doubt they’d be calling me, smarty pants.”
“Well, see, that just proves they are lacking in the awesome department. I’d call you even if I wasn’t horny.”
“So you’re saying you’re not?”
“Mm, let’s not get crazy here.” He rested his hand on his belly and drummed his fingers. “But seriously, is it too late to talk? I was going to leave a message. Didn’t want you to think I’m some huge jackass who stands up his phone sex goddess.”
“Goddess, huh? Someone is trying to butter me up.”
“What’s this, you say? Slather your delicious body with warm melted butter and then ride you like a sexy Slip N Slide? Okay, you twisted my arm.” Distracted by the enticing visual in his head, he trailed his hand lower on his abdomen. His cock stood at attention—an always eager and primed participant in their conversations. Rather than give into its beckoning call, he ignored his dick. Anticipation was half the fun, right? He propped one foot on top of the other and inspected the crooked toe seam on his sock.
“Or there’s this little thing called massage oil,” Charlie offered, breaking through his perusal. “Maybe you’ve heard of it?”
“Nah, I’m kinda digging the idea of butter now.”
“Uh huh. Why do I have the feeling this is going to segue into butt sex?”
Her suspicious tone prodded a chuckle from him. “Hey, I didn’t say anything about that. Clearly, you’re the guilty party who’s watched Last Tango in Paris one too many times.”
“Ah ha! So you admit you were at least thinking about it.”
“I’m a guy. Butt sex crosses my mind several times a day. Usually at the most inconvenient moments, too. Like when I’m in an elevator full of nuns.”
“Really? How in the world did that come about?”
He’d been on strip-o-gram duty. Private bachelorette party at the MGM Grand Detroit. Who knew what the nuns were doing there? Maybe trying their luck at the blackjack table. “Can’t recall. Blocked the whole traumatic thing from my mind.”
“Poor baby. We can’t have you suffering flashbacks. Now back to this erotic Slip N Slide you mentioned. It sounds an awful lot like a Nuru massage.”
“What’s that?”
“You’re kidding me. I’ve actually discovered something McHorny hasn’t heard of?”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Are you pumping your fist in victory right now?”
“Hell, yes.”
“Well, since you’ve already got the pumping action going, I have something else you can workout with. Your own personal dick dumbbell, if you will.”
“Aw, you’re too generous.”
“I know. Always a giver. And a grower.” He finally relented and slid his hand past his waistband. Wrapping his fingers around his cock, he closed his eyes. This way he could fantasize it was Charlie working him over. “Tell me about the mystical wonders of this Nuru massage. Have you done it before?”
“No. But there are tons of videos online if you want to check it out.”
Oh, guaranteed he’d be doing that later, and imagining Charlie slippery wet beneath him. Or maybe on top. On their sides and doggie-style was good too. Hell, no such thing as a position he didn’t love. “Are you naked right now?”
“Nope. I’m wearing that pink babydoll teddy you like.”
“Hm, that I do. But you’re gonna need to be naked for this massage.�
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“You too, McHorny. We both get oiled up and rub all over each other like a pair of frisky seals.”
“Damn. Wasn’t expecting you to bring frisky marine animals into this. Gotta say, this Nuru thing is sounding better and better.” He freed his cock, and with some minor fumbling, shucked his track pants down. Using his foot, he finagled the tangled garment past his socks. “Okay, I’m completely buck naked now.”
“Are you wearing your socks?”
He glanced at his feet. “No.”
“Yes, you are.” Her sigh trickled through the receiver. “God, I can’t take you anywhere.”
“Fine, they’re coming off.” Hefting into a sitting position, he tugged the offenders free and rolled them into a ball before pitching them toward the hamper. “Good thing I’m getting a massage. All this damn work is exhausting.”
“It’ll be worth your while, with an extra special happy ending. Lay on your back.”
He did as instructed and shut his eyes again. “Are you going to sit on my face?”
“Woah, Silver. You’re like five million steps ahead of me.”
“Can’t help it. I’m starved for your pussy.” He licked his lips. “Going down on you is my favorite thing in the world. Fuck, the sounds you make when my tongue is buried inside of you.” His cock pulsed and he offered it an indulgent stroke.
“It’s because your mouth feels so good. Those slow, teasing licks right across my clit drive me crazy.” The breathiness of her voice clued him in that she’d started playing with her pussy.
He’d give his left nut to be able to see it. To actually watch her fingers stroll through her wetness and caress her clit. Several months ago he’d asked if they could FaceTime or Skype during a chat. She’d made it crystal clear that option wasn’t on the table. It’d be the understatement of the century to say he’d been disappointed, but if all he could have of Charlie was her wet-dream-inspiring voice, he’d gladly make do. Not that he didn’t take liberties in other ways. “Let me hear how juiced up you are.”
“Not yet. First I have to lather myself with the oil.”
He swallowed hard to loosen his tongue from the roof of his mouth. “You have some there?”
The unmistakable—and slightly obscene—expulsion of air from a bottle being squeezed carried across the line. Jesus. He’d take that as a yes.
“Oh, for Pete’s sake.”
He grinned at the adorable aggravation in her sudden outburst. “What?”
“The oil is dripping everywhere. Good thing I wear a headset, because my hands are too slick to hold onto anything. Now I know how a greased pig feels.”
His groan slipped free as his own hold on his cock tightened a fraction. “Drag those gorgeous tits across my mouth. I want to suck your nipples.”
“Let me get rid of this excess oil. You don’t mind if I sit on your lap while I spread this thick, gooey stuff all over my body, do you?”
He choked back a whimper. “You are such a little cock tease.”
“You love it, McHorny.”
“Fuck yeah. Now wiggle around on me, you sexy girl.”
He detected the sound of bedspring’s squeaking. Fuck, she was acting out his request. The visual in his head? Killing. Him. He blindly reached for the tube of lubricant on the nightstand. He was dripping enough pre-come, he didn’t need it. But it’d go along with the fantasy. Popping the lid single-handedly came a little too easy. Shit. He really did jack off a lot. Damn miracle he hadn’t gone blind yet. He squeezed the KY and it made a similar lewd noise as Charlie’s bottle of oil. She noticed, of course.
“Sounds like you’re running low.” There was no misinterpreting the barely restrained humor in her voice.
“Hey, it’s a small tube. Don’t judge.”
“Me? Never. Especially since I masturbate even more than you do.”
Highly doubtful. Even if it was technically what she did for a living. He stroked his cock, liberally applying the lubricant. Although he would have preferred Charlie’s touch, a hand was a hand and it felt damn good. No complaints from his dick in that department. Immersing himself in the decadent sensations, he pumped his hips, fucking his fist with a leisurely glide. An unrestrained moan fell from him.
“Damn, McHorny. Keep up those hot sex noises, and you’re going to make me have to get out my extra big dildo.”
“The one with the beads that twirl around the base?”
“Uh huh. I’m going to spread my legs wide and work Big Bob into my pussy while you’re stroking your cock. Do you want to come with me like that?”
His hand hadn’t left his dick the whole time she’d been spinning her wicked, delicious words on him. If he didn’t slow his pace he’d be well on his way to round two before she got off the first time. “Yes.” He’d reached the point where speech was becoming increasingly problematic. A few more drags of his fist and he’d be lucky to grunt a response. “Want to come...inside you.”
The buzzing of the vibrator drifted through the receiver. She was following through with the fantasy, but what he wanted more than anything was to be in that bed with her, looking her in the eyes. He wanted all of the tactile sensations. Skin on skin. Nails digging into his chest. Her body rocking into him, snug little pussy hugging him like a glove. He wanted to feel her lose it on him. And when she came, he’d thrust one last time, deep inside her, joining her on that wild, blissful ride to heaven. “Charlie.”
“Wait for me, lover. I’m almost there.” Her breaths were choppy, confirming the fact.
ThankyoufuckingGod. His release was barreling up on him, fast and furious. No amount of counting baseballs stats would tighten the reins. “Wanted this...to last...longer.”
Her laugh caressed his ear. “Don’t worry. Won’t hold it against you, McHorny Quick Draw.”
His chuckle lodged in his throat, nearly cutting off his air supply as she began moaning and gasping.
This was his favorite part—listening to her right before she crashed over the edge. Charlie coming was even better than his own orgasm. He didn’t want to miss a second of it. Her breathing grew erratic, catching sharply on the tail end of each inhalation. It wasn’t until he felt the heavy ache behind his breastbone that he realized he was holding his breath right along with her.
“Grady.”
Hearing her cry out his name as she climaxed did him in. Every. Damn. Time. It didn’t even require an extra pump of his fist, he just shot off like a rocket. He shuddered and groaned, shockwaves of pleasure scalding his nerve endings.
Once his brain was semi-functional, he grabbed the box of tissues and cleaned off his belly and hand. “Holy hell. That was mind-blowing. Heavy emphasis on the blowing part.”
Charlie giggled. “You’ll sleep like a baby now. I know I will. Same time tomorrow?”
Harper’s earlier question chose that inconvenient moment to ghost through his brain. “Have you even had real sex since you’ve started calling her every damn night?”
What just happened between them was definitely real. Maybe it wasn’t in line with what most people considered normal. But the connection he shared with Charlie was stronger than any one night stand. And that was something he couldn’t—wouldn’t—walk away from. “Absolutely.”
CHAPTER TWO
“I’m going to need an alibi for when I kill that jackwagon.”
Charlie tore her gaze from Kaitlin and quickly scrambled to move the script pages stacked next to her on the couch as a huge, bulky mountain of fur lumbered toward her. She managed to shuffle everything to safety before the Newfoundland climbed onto her lap. Accepting the dog’s slobbering kiss, she returned her focus to her sister’s scowling face. “What did Ford do now?”
“He slept with Hairy’s groomer. I swear to God that man’s dick needs to be kept on a leash.” Eyes shooting fire, Kait tossed her purse on the club chair. “For the last hour, I’ve had to listen to Penelope’s irate demands as to why he hasn’t called or texted her. When I suggested she should ask him these
things herself she insisted it’d make her look desperate. I don’t get paid enough for this damn job. I should quit and let him fend for himself.”
“But then Hairy wouldn’t be able to come visit me anymore and he’d be sad.” Cuddling the massive Newfie, Charlie rubbed her cheek in his soft black fur. The dog looked up at her with an adoring I love you, human stare. It’d be easy to let it go to her head, but truthfully, he pretty much viewed anyone who gave him snacks as the most awesome being on the planet.
Kait sighed. “Yeah, Hairy is the only reason I put up with the jackwagon.” She leaned over and scritched him behind the ears. “Maye we should look into getting your owner neutered. It’d be for his own good.”
“I doubt Ford would agree with you.” Chuckling, Charlie shifted her weight so that Hairy’s enormous paws weren’t digging right into her crotch. She didn’t have the heart to tell him he was way too big to pass as a lap dog. Stroking his fur, she frowned at Kait. “Would you cop a squat? You’re making me nervous with your pacing and glowering.”
“Sorry.” Kait plopped down on the other side of Charlie. “And I don’t mean to always bitch to you about my boss. Although, I’m completely serious about needing that alibi.” Grumbling under her breath, she picked up the top sheet from the stack of papers. Her surliness vanished, replaced with blatant curiosity. “Is this a new audio book project?”
“Yep. I really love the author’s voice. Hopefully, she’ll feel the same way about mine.”
Kait dragged her focus from the manuscript and pinned Charlie with a chastising stare. “How could she not? You have the vocals of a sex goddess, for Christ’s sake.”
Charlie’s fingers stilled on Hairy’s head. Recalling Grady’s similar name for her last night, heat purled through her. It always felt wickedly decadent, thinking about their chats when she was in real-life Charlie mode. Like she’d suddenly uncovered a crazy, wildly perverted alter ego. Not an outlandish comparison. If anyone saw her right now? No way in the world they’d believe she was that other Charlie. Sometimes she couldn’t believe it either. Phone Sex Charlie’s unshakable confidence and power over men were truly baffling to real-life Charlie.