"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 unerringly 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 be-grudgingly. 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 cafe, 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 cafe. "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.