Anna
I loved that sound he made as if he were half-crazed with lust. I must have taken about a hundred pictures and sent him about ten. I wanted to try and make them so they weren’t sleazy, that they just suggested something.
“Ethan,” I whispered as I closed my office door.
“I want you on my cock, right now.”
“Ethan,” I whispered again.
“I need you.”
“You have me.”
I could hear him, his breaths shortening. I imagined what he was doing and I felt my underwear dampen. The thought of him, naked, in his bed. God, I was going to have to take a cold shower.
“Stay on the phone.”
“I’m here.” For some reason, I liked the fact he wanted me on the phone. I hoped it would make up for last night a little. I didn’t want to screw this up. I didn’t want to screw us up.
“The picture of your lips. That’s my favorite.” He was panting now. I could hear a rhythm in his voice. “It’s the shape they make when you come.”
“When you make me come,” I whispered.
He groaned again.
“Yes, when I make you. That’s what you look like. And I can’t get enough. It’s like I’m addicted.” His voice was wavering now. “I can’t get enough of your body, your mind, your soul.”
“It’s all yours.”
His breathing was heavy now, the grunts more consistent. I could imagine his neck strained as he gave into his orgasm. He was there and hearing him was the sexiest, most erotically intimate thing I’d ever heard. I wished I was back at the flat, somewhere where I could try again.
But I wasn’t back at the flat and a knock at the door pulled me back to my surroundings.
Paul Adams, the partner I did most of my work for, put his head round my door and saw I was on the phone and silently indicated I should call him. I was sure he could tell that I’d just got my boyfriend off at the other end of the phone. It must have shown in my face, surely. I nodded and he closed the door behind him.
“Are you okay?” Ethan asked me.
I laughed. “I am, it was Paul. I feel like we’ve been caught doing something we shouldn’t be.”
“Well, it’s a good job we weren’t on Skype.”
“Yeah, I think that would be a slam-dunk breach of the anti-frat.”
* * * * *
The rest of the day was better. I loved to hear him undone like that and even though we were three thousand miles apart, it felt like this morning had brought us closer somehow.
Sometime after lunch, I came back to my office after a meeting to find two pieces of post on my desk. The first was a courier package, the second a hand written envelope marked ‘private and confidential’. I opened the courier package first, expecting some documents from a client but instead I found a book. But not just a book. It was a book titled “Pumpkin Carving in New England”. But before the word “Pumpkin” someone had handwritten the word “naked”.
Lucy chose that exact moment to make her entrance, and it was always an entrance.
“What have you got there?” She asked seeing me with a book in my hand and a grin on my face. Not that my grin lasted long.
“What do you want Lucy?” I didn’t want anything spoiling my mood.
“Just coming to say hi, that’s all. What’s this?” She asked picking up the book.
“Nothing.” I snatched it from her fingers. I hadn’t had time to enjoy it yet. To think how thoughtful and silly and perfect a gift it was. I hugged it to my chest.
“Jeez, someone’s touchy. You still pissed you’re not working with Sexy Scott?”
“He’s back in the US.”
“Yeah, but I’m still working with him. He emails me all the time. Can’t keep away. He’s such a flirt.”
If I could have kneed her in the groin without anyone finding out I would have done. I wasn’t one for physical violence but it was like she was trying to wind me up. Did she know about Ethan and me? Maybe she suspected?
“Okay, well enjoy that.” I snapped. “I’ve got a lot to do, Lucy.” I stood up and moved towards the door. She couldn’t keep talking to me if I wasn’t in my office. She got the hint and I went to the loo.
When I got back to my desk I grinned inanely at the book Ethan had sent to me. As I flipped through the book I saw that he’d annotated it so that every time ‘pumpkin carving’ was written he’d added the word ‘naked’. The book was full of beautiful photographs of intricately carved pumpkins set against typical New England homes and landscapes. It was sweet and thoughtful and I loved it.
I texted a quick message.
A: I love my gift. And I love your obsession with nakedness. Oh, yeah, and I love you.
Still grinning, I turned my attention to the handwritten envelope that had been on my desk with the courier package. It wasn’t Ethan’s writing and I couldn’t think who it could be from.
Inside was a handwritten letter. It started “Dear Anna” but I still didn’t recognize the writing, so I skipped to the end.
It was from Ben. Ben the Biker. Ben the Bastard. My ex-boyfriend who had been responsible for my flat being broken into, putting me in danger. What on earth was he writing to me for?