by R. J. Lewis
But Derek’s already making calls. Fuck. I quickly run around the apartment and tidy it up. I also hide our valuable shit because it’ll either disappear or break.
“It’s a work night, okay?” I tell him. “They can’t be long, Derek.”
I’ve been crashing on the couch and I don’t want to wait around until the early hours of the morning to be able to sleep.
“Yeah, yeah,” he says distractedly.
I already know I’ve made a mistake.
Within a half hour, the guys are flooding through the apartment with drinks, collapsing on the couch. They’re loud laughter drowns out all my sanity. I disappear in the bedroom and sit on the bed, looking through my phone. My fingers move before I stop myself.
Ivy: You there?
Aidan answers a few minutes later.
A.W.: I’m here.
Ivy: What are you up to?
A.W.: Work.
A.W.: But I’m having a problem, Ivy.
Ivy: You are?
A.W.: It’s a really big one, and it involves you.
I frown, worried.
Ivy: What is it?
A.W.: I think I’ve forgotten the sound of your voice.
Heat rushes to my cheeks and a smile spreads across my face, even while there’s shouting on the other side of the door.
Ivy: Oh no.
A.W.: It’s a crime, isn’t it? To forget such a voice like yours.
Ivy: What are you going to do about it?
A few moments later my phones starts to vibrate. My heart jumps. He’s calling me on messenger.
I stare at it for a few moments – I’m terrified! – and then I answer. I put the phone to my ear, feeling nervous.
“Hello?”
“There she is,” he responds, sounding amused.
I shut my eyes, savoring that deep voice of his. Wow, way better than my memory.
“Am I fixing the problem?” I ask cheekily.
“Keep talking and you will,” he says.
I grin like an idiot. “What do you want me to talk about?”
“Anything, Ivy. Fuck, your voice is beautiful.”
“Well, that doesn’t help me very much.”
“Read the dictionary if you have to.”
I laugh. “I’d rather not.”
He chuckles too. “Tell me about your day then.”
“Absolutely fuck-all happened today worth mentioning.”
He lets out a deep sound from his throat. “How about you keep swearing then?”
I’m blushing so hard, I feel sweaty. “What?”
“Yeah, you’re good at that, remember?”
“You want to me curse at you?”
“How else am I to know for sure I’m speaking to the real Ivy?”
I lick my lips and say, “Fuck.”
He makes that sound again in his throat and I swear it’s doing things to me. “There’s the vulgar girl I know.”
I lean back against the pillows, realizing I’ve been sitting upright like a rod from all the nerves. “Satisfied?”
“For now.”
I swallow back a laugh. “Tell me about your day, Aidan.”
“Just between meetings, actually.”
“What, this late?”
“You think a man this loaded ever gets time off work?”
“Doing what?” I prod, curiously.
“Nice try.”
I roll my eyes. “You still won’t tell me.”
“I like being anonymous. It’s a nice change for me, Ivy.”
“I wonder if I should look you up, then.”
“Please don’t.” I swear he’s being serious about that.
“Well, I’d need to know your last name, wouldn’t I?” I ask.
“You would.” Then he adds, “I hope so, anyway.”
It’s a bizarre response from him. “You’re not a seedy dude, are you?” I wonder aloud.
This time his laugh is loud. “Define seedy.”
“You got a criminal record I should know about?”
His tone is light. “No, nothing like that, Ivy.”
“Then I won’t look you up.”
“Good.”
“So, I’m stuck just calling you Aidan then.”
He chuckles softly. It goes straight to my sex. “You can call me Sir.”
This time I laugh, repeating, “Sir?”
“Fuck,” he curses, letting out a breath. “I didn’t expect that.”
“Expect what?”
“For that word to go straight to my cock the way it just did.”
My pulse spikes and I go quiet, squirming. I shut my eyes, shaking because a man’s never spoken to me like this.
“Ivy,” he says quietly, “relax, beauty. I’m not crossing any lines.”
I rub my legs together. “You’re crossing lots of lines, actually.”
“Name one.”
My voice is dry. “Are you so out of touch, you don’t know what is socially appropriate?”
“I am very out of touch,” he admits. “But I know when I’ve crossed a line, and believe me, Ivy, I know I haven’t crossed yours.”
“How do you know that?”
“You haven’t hung up on me.”
I bite my lip. He has me there, but I’d rather die than admit that. “Actually, Aidan, I haven’t hung up on you because it’s a rude thing to do to someone.”
“Is that your excuse?”
“Excuse? What do you think the real reason is for staying on the phone to you?”
“You’re curious about me. You’re feeling a high right now. You’re probably smiling. Probably rubbing your legs together, too, feeling that ache because you like my confidence. You like the sound of my voice. You’re drawn to me, just like I’m drawn to you.”
Fuck.
He’s right. His voice is doing crazy things to me, and don’t get me started on his arrogance. I swallow hard. I don’t answer for a moment because I have to compose myself. Then I finally say, “Aidan, how does it feel to be so arrogant?”
“It’s a lot of fun.”
I can’t help laughing again. “The world would be a better place if we all loved ourselves as much as you do.”
I can hear the smile in his voice. “You think I love myself?”
“Don’t you?”
“Actually, I love what you do to me.”
I fidget, growing hot. “Really?”
“I’ve never stared at my phone so much in my life, praying for a message. I’m floating right now, Ivy. You’re doing things to me.” Then he adds in a lower voice, “Am I doing the same to you?”
I close my eyes, grinning like an idiot. I’m not giving him this satisfaction. “You’re a lot of fun to talk to… I guess.”
He groans. “You guess?”
“Uh-huh. You help me pass the time.”
He lets out a long breath. I can tell he’s shocked. It wasn’t the answer he expected.
“Do I do nothing to you?” he wonders lightly, but I think he’s partly serious.
I leave him hanging because it’s fun to make him question this. I’m certain this man is used to women falling over themselves for him. He can hack a little bit of uncertainty just this once.
“You’re playing with me, aren’t you, Ivy?”
“I would never do such a thing.”
“Liar.”
My brows shoot up. “Because I haven’t tickled your ear and told you I want to be fucked silly by you, that means I’m playing with you? Is your ego wounded, Aidan, because I haven’t crumbled to you like they all do?”
It’s his turn to be quiet.
I’m shocking him, I just know it. He’s not used to this.
“The things I would do to that fucking mouth,” he breathes out just then.
“What would you do?” I challenge before I can stop myself.
“Worship it.”
I still. It’s not at all the response I expect. I thought he would say something filthy in that arrogant way of his.
My eyelids flutter shut. If I close my eyes, if I’m completely still like this, if I don’t answer, I’m not going to say something I’ll regret. I can’t let him know he’s getting to me. I can’t.
Cheers break through the silence. The guys are going insane. I hear Derek’s crazy shouts, followed by a crash.
“Sounds like you’re in the middle of something,” Aidan says.
“I’m not,” I tell him. “The guys are here, and they’re watching the hockey game. They get a little passionate about it.”
“What about you?”
“Me?”
“What do you get passionate about, Ivy?”
I let out a quiet breath, thinking. “Me…”
“You,” he presses.
I search for a response, for a moment holding back because I'm afraid to answer. Then I say fuck it.
“I think…I think I’m passionate about the unknown, Aidan. Imagine having the entire day to yourself, and it’s not mapped out. Imagine if your life isn’t run by the clock.”
“What would you do with all that time?”
“I certainly wouldn’t clock watch. I’d live in the now.”
“I don’t know what people mean when they say that,” he admits quietly. “How do you live in the now?”
“By being present, Aidan. By understanding that you’re just a person on this small planet that orbits a sun, in a tiny galaxy among billions of others, just…existing. Not running around and giving everyone else your time. Our time is precious. I don’t know why we just freely hand it out to anyone that comes along.”
“So you’re passionate about time.”
“I guess so.”
He hums thoughtfully. “You’re pretty deep, aren’t you?”
I laugh softly, feeling a little embarrassed. “I don’t talk like this to everyone.”
“No?”
“I swear.”
“I’m lucky then.” He doesn’t say it to be funny. He sounds genuine.
I want to ask him what he’s passionate about. I’d love to get inside his mind, dig deep and find out what’s at the center of him. He’s still such a mystery to me.
Suddenly, I hear a woman’s voice in the background, and I tense, my heart slowing. Has he had company this whole time?
My voice is flat when I say, “Sounds like you’re also in the middle of something.”
His response shocks me. “You think I’m about to fuck the woman you heard in the background?”
My heart picks up. Jealousy floods my body. “That’s not my business.”
“Relax, Ivy, that’s just my very old and very frail assistant Fran.” He sounds amused. “She’s reminding me I have a meeting in the next few minutes.”
“Oh.” I feel like an idiot. I want to crawl in a hole and disappear.
He laughs. “I’ll let her know her youthful voice rattled your feathers.”
I roll my eyes. “They didn’t rattle my feathers, Aidan.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“I’m very sure.”
“Another lie.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
He’s infuriating.
“Even if I were lying, Aidan, there’s nothing you can do about it.”
He chuckles. “Wrong. I’d punish you so hard right now, Ivy.”
“Punish me how?”
“You don’t want to know,” he warns. “You really don’t.”
“What if I do?”
He makes a sound in the back of his throat. “Fuck,” he curses, his voice growing lower. “I’d punish you here in my office. I’d call you Miss Montcalm and bend you over my desk and worship the fuck out of you.”
I swallow hard, trying to calm down. My heart is racing. “There’s that word again, Aidan. Worship.”
“You expect me to tell you I’d fuck you hard? No, Ivy, I’d worship you first. Your body needs more than to be filled with my cock. Come on, baby, I may be arrogant, but I'm not completely selfish.”
I shake my head to myself. Stop talking, Ivy. No more. But my body is zipping with excitement. I feel lust pooling at the pit of my belly.
“I’ll be there in a moment,” he says sharply.
I clear my throat. “Sounds like you really need to go.”
“Not so fast, Ivy, I need to know something first.”
“What?”
“I need to know I’m getting to you.”
“Getting to me?”
He drops his voice again. “You wet, Ivy?”
My lips part in surprise. My heart is thumping so hard in my chest right now.
“I’m hard,” he whispers now. “Fuck, Ivy, I’m so hard just hearing your voice. I’m bursting. Tell me I’m not the only one feeling like this.”
“I think you already know,” I whisper back.
“Tell me yes.”
“You want me to feed your ego.”
“No,” he groans. “No, Ivy, this isn’t about that.”
When I don’t immediately respond, he asks, “Are you wet for me, Ivy?”
“Yes,” the word escapes me in the tiniest voice. I wince, shocked at my response.
“Good,” he responds, sounding satisfied. “Do me a favor and take care of yourself. Don’t let anyone enjoy what I’m responsible for.”
He means don’t have sex with Derek? Oh, God. I’m just about to tell him he has no need to worry about that, but he beats me to it, saying, “Gotta go, Ivy.”
“Okay.”
The second the line goes dead, I sag into the pillows, letting out a long, trembling breath.
*
A hand runs over my body. I respond to the touch, still feeling wired from the call with Aidan. I pretend he’s touching me, pretend he’s whispering in my ear, asking me in person if I’m wet for him.
“Ivy, darling.”
I open my eyes and Derek is over me, smelling like alcohol, looking drunk and needy. The apartment is silent. I look around in the darkness, realizing I’ve fallen asleep along the way.
Derek’s fingers move under my pants, his touch frantic. He feels for my core. Instant repulsion runs through me. I immediately move away, pushing his hand off me.
“No, Derek,” I tell him.
“You’re in my bed,” he replies.
“Because everyone was on the couch –”
“Sleep with me.”
I slide away from him and move to the other side of the mattress, forcing myself to wake up. I’m so tired.
“Ivy.” He’s pawing at me, grabbing me by the arm. “I’m going crazy, Ivy.”
God, I wish it was Aidan saying those words to me right now. I can pretend, perhaps. I shake my head. What’s wrong with me?
“No, Derek.” I’m standing now and moving away. “I don’t want to.”
“We’ll feel better after, Ivy –”
“I’m not burying our problems with a fuck, okay?”
He watches me, glowering now. “What is it going to fucking take, Ivy? Maybe you should be drinking too, huh?”
I just look at him, scoffing. “Wow, did you just tell me to get drunk so that I’ll have sex with you?”
“If it makes us feel like a couple, yeah.”
“No, Derek, fucking while I’m drunk won’t magically make us feel like a couple again.”
“What are you saying?”
“This isn’t working between us –”
“Fuck off!” he suddenly hisses. “I’m not hearing this bullshit right now.”
“What bullshit?”
“You’re talking rubbish.”
“I’m not.”
“Fuck off, Ivy.”
“We can talk about the separation if you want –”
“I want to fucking sleep. That’s what I fucking want. Unless you want to fuck me, fuck right off.”
I shake my head slowly and start to leave. Just before I get to the door, I pause and glance at him one more time. “You’re getting worse, Derek. That poison is turning you black.”
&n
bsp; He throws his clothes off and swings at the lamp. It crashes to the ground, and I take that as my cue to leave.
The apartment is a bombsite. I spend the following hour cleaning everything up. I open the windows to air the place out. Then I put a fresh sheet on the couch and collapse into it. I run a hand over my face. I have never felt more like running away than right now. I want to leave everything behind. Forget about the lease. The rent. The bills. The countless responsibilities I have tethered myself to just by being in this fucking apartment.
I only start to calm down when I think of Aidan’s voice.
His words.
Are you wet for me, Ivy?
I slip my hand to my core and run my fingers through my folds, shuddering at the immense pleasure that bolts through me. Fuck. I draw circles around my clit, trying my hardest to envision his face. Imagining him saying those things to me. I wonder what his body looks like underneath that suit. I’m curious how big his cock is. With an ego like that, I’m certain it wouldn’t disappoint.
I come hard so quickly, it’s embarrassing.
Then I lay there in the dark, completely empty.
The Messenger
A.W.: How was your day?
Ivy Montcalm: It was good. Worked overtime to finish a client off. He left a nice tip.
A.W.: You sound like a hooker.
Ivy Montcalm: HA. I finished cutting his HAIR off, thanks!
A.W.: Sure, sure. I’m not judging. What else did you do to deserve the tip?
Ivy Montcalm: Nothing. He flirted a lot and it was really awkward. I have a weird magnet for middle-aged men.
A.W.: And good-looking businessmen.
Ivy Montcalm: So cocky.
A.W.: You love it.
Ivy Montcalm: Maybe. How was your day?
A.W.: Rough. Been copping flack over change of terms policy that was recently sent out. Boring shit like that.
Ivy Montcalm: Doesn’t sound boring at all. What are your plans for the weekend?
A.W.: I have a younger brother that’s going off the rails. I’m supposed to fill him with my wisdom and keep him on track. Pretty much fucked. Advice?
Ivy Montcalm: I was really terrible in my younger years, and I think I acted out because I needed more love. Negative attention was better than none. Maybe give your brother some love, tell him you’ll always be there for him. Better than preaching to him about right and wrong.