Beneath the Surface (17 page)

As it stood, she sounded kind of peppy when she answered. Cautious but peppy.

“You’re sounding wide awake at the witching hour,” he observed.

“I should have known it was you. No one else would have the nerve to call me at this ungodly hour.”

Ungodly? He stayed up until the sun rose when he was on a roll with his writing.

Which, he guessed was why he couldn’t hang with Ms. Lyons at seven a.m.

Rather than address her gibe he asked her a question of his own. “What are you doing up? You strike me as an early-to-bed, early-to-rise kind of gal.”

“I splurge every once in a while.”

“Really? What are you splurging on?”

“Right now I’m watching a movie.”

He pictured her in red flannel pjs, matching furry bunny slippers with her feet up on a glass coffee table in front of her, breaking all the rules and balancing a big bowl of hot buttered popcorn in her lap.

EJ immediately got hard at the image. “What are you wearing?” he blurted, his curiosity about how close he’d come to the real deal overriding his fear that she’d back off and hang up at what she saw as sex talk.

The question didn’t seem to put her any more on guard than usual, as Tabitha said, “I’m in my pjs and fluffy bedroom slippers.”

EJ groaned, unzipped his jeans, slid a hand in and cupped himself. The little sucker had grown to painful proportions in the last minute.

Tabitha had probably thought her description would turn him off, had no idea her confirmation of his guess turned him on more, that he thought she’d be sexy in a buttoned-to-the-chin, floor-length granny gown, face slathered in cold cream and hair in rollers.

“So, to what do I owe the honor, Eric?”

“I wanted to speak to you.”

91

Gracie C. McKeever

“Eric—”

“I know what you’re going to say. This isn’t a good idea.”

“It isn’t.”

“Tabitha, I wanted to hear your voice.”

“Eric…”

He pushed past the chastisement he heard in her voice, needed to get this out in the open. “…and I wanted to thank you for making me get those suits, for talking me into dressing for success again,” he said.

“No biggy.”

“I’ve been invited to several speaking engagements where they’ll come in right handy.”

“I hear a definite southwestern twang in your voice. Where are you? I couldn’t tell where you were from the area code that came up.”

And she’d answered the phone anyway? Had she been expecting him, or someone else?

“I’m in Texas.”

“Bush country, huh?”

Well damn, she’d snarled it as if she were a staunch Democrat, or maybe a Liberal. Which surprised him since he’d have figured her for a stone cold Conservative.

Sure, he’d voted for the guy, but he wasn’t even going to go there and get into it with Ms. Lyons now, if ever. He had enough trouble trying to ingratiate himself and get into her heart…and her panties—hell, he had to be honest with himself on that last if nothing else—without adding a no-win political debate to the mix. “Yep, Bush country,”

he finally answered.

“How they treating you, Yankee?”

“Fine and dandy, and they loved the purple and green outfit.”

“You wore it?”

“Damn right I did.”

She chuckled, but stopped suddenly. “I read your book,” she muttered, as if getting something unpleasant off her chest.

“And?”

“I told you you’d get asked to speak at important functions.”

EJ grinned. The woman always had to have the last word. “Did you
like
it?”

“I loved it.”

Damn, he hadn’t thought she had it in her.

92

Beneath the Surface

She’d spoken with no hesitation and such certainty that EJ thought it seemed as if she’d just been waiting for him to ask her the right question.

“You know I’ve gotten all these calls today from my family earlier to congratulate me on making all these bestseller lists, and none of them meant as much to me as hearing you say you loved my book.”

“Oh, please,” she sputtered. “I saw all those lists and reviews, by the way.

Congrats.”

“The dog accepts your bone,” EJ quipped then asked, “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I was making a desperate effort not to.”

“Why?”

“Christ, you’re like a five-year-old with that question!”

EJ laughed and she surprisingly joined him. “I missed you,” he murmured.

“Will you stop! We haven’t known each other long enough or well enough for you to miss me when I’m not around.”

“The hell we haven’t. Besides, in our case it’s quality and not quantity.”

“Okay, you’ve got me with that one.”

Wow, he was batting a thousand tonight. Should he take his chances and swing for the fences? Before he changed his mind, he asked, “So, what were you watching?

And have I totally ruined your movie night?”

“
You’ve Got Mail.
It’s the DVD and I have it on pause.”

“Ah, so either you’re a Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks fan, or just a plain old romance fan.”

“Meg Ryan and romance fan. Tom I can take or leave.”

“Whoda thunk it?”

“Don’t be such a smart ass.” She chuckled.

“I can’t help it.”

“So, uh…how’s the tour going? I’m assuming it’s a success.”

“It’s going pretty well. It’d be better if you were here.”

“And what purpose would I serve being there?”

“You could be my own personal cheering section.”

“As if your head isn’t big enough already,” she deadpanned.

Christ, if she only knew!

EJ squirmed on the bed, turning from his side onto his back and to stare at the ceiling, picturing her face there instead of the sterile institutional shade of off-white.

“So, what are you doing up besides harassing me? I would have thought all that touring would have caught up with you by now.”

93

Gracie C. McKeever

“No, not yet. I’m usually more amped towards the end of the day than the beginning.”

“Most vampires are.”

“I vant to suck your blood,” EJ intoned in his cheesiest Dracula accent, but it didn’t stop Tabitha from giggling.

“Nut.”

Shit, she didn’t know how much he wanted to bust one right now, so bad he could taste it. To Tabitha he said, “Please don’t use that word right now.”

“Okay, how about lech?” She laughed.

EJ grinned, unconsciously stroking his shaft as he imagined peeling those pjs right off of Ms. Lyons where she sat. “I wish I was there right now watching
You’ve Got
Mail
with you.”

“Get out of here! You like chick flicks?”

“You’d be surprised. I’m a romantic deep down.”

“Way deep down, I’ll bet.”

“Of course, my favorite movies are action, horror and sci-fi, not necessarily in that order.”

“I can forego my chick flicks for
Aliens
any day.”

“God, you too?”

“Of course, I do love Michael Biehn.”

“You would.”

“You have a problem with Mr. Biehn?”

“None,” he muttered. “Only I’m cuter than him.”

“Yes, you are.”

“You mean that?” he blurted.

“You know you’re gorgeous.”

“It always helps to hear it.” He took a deep breath before speaking again, didn’t want to scare off the deer taking a sip at the drinking hole. “And by the way, you’re gorgeous too. More than gorgeous.”

“Thanks.”

“I’d love to see exactly
how
gorgeous.”

“I know you would.”

Shit, they were treading toward dangerous ground and he had to play this very carefully, didn’t want to hear the abrupt evil drone of a dial tone in his ear at some imagined insult.

Emboldened, EJ stepped out onto the ledge. “Arrogant, aren’t we?”

94

Beneath the Surface

“No more than you,” Tabitha bantered. “And how would you achieve seeing how gorgeous I am?”

He liked that she always got back to the point, almost as much of a master at segueing as he was, liked that she sounded playful and ready for anything.

Maybe she was.

“Well, you make it difficult to say the least.”

“I know, but you have your imagination.”

“I do,” EJ murmured, licking his lips before diving in. “Are you still wearing your pjs?”

“What else would I be doing with them, Eric?”

“You could take off your top for me.” He held his breath, waiting as he heard noise on the other end, as if she were shifting her position on a leather sofa.

“I’ve unbuttoned it…all the way.”

Damn, he couldn’t believe he was doing this. He couldn’t believe she was letting him.

In all his sexually active days, and there had been many, he had yet to have phone sex…phone sex with a beautiful woman that he knew personally, one he had intimately touched, smelled and tasted.

EJ closed his eyes, envisioned her smooth copper skin peeking at him from beneath the flannel material of her pjs, glimmering beneath the glare from the television screen. He could almost feel the flex of her trim abdomen, the slightly rounded curve of her belly against his pelvis as he imagined plunging into her. “What are you doing now?”

he murmured.

“I’m waiting for you to take off your shirt.”

“I don’t have one on.”

“Oh, you called me halfway prepared, huh?” She laughed, her voice low and throaty. “What
are
you wearing, Eric?”

He swallowed hard, mouth suddenly dry at her sultry tone. “Jeans.”

“No shoes?”

“No, I’m barefoot.”

“That’s good. Because I like men in jeans and their bare feet.”

Had he just heard her right? Did Ms. Tabitha have a foot fetish? “What about you? Did you take off those big fluffy slippers?”

“They’re off.”

“Have you taken off your top yet?”

“I’m waiting for you to touch me, Eric.”

95

Gracie C. McKeever

He shifted on the bed, trying to find a comfortable position as he completely freed his penis from his jeans and boxers, firmly massaging it from base to tip. “I want you to touch yourself, Tabitha.”

“Is that what you’re doing?”

“God yes.”

“Good. I want you to pretend that I’m kneeling at your feet, that my mouth and hands are on you and I’m sucking your cock and fondling your balls.”

EJ groaned deep in his throat, almost dropped the receiver to the floor before quickly catching it in mid-air by the cord, and cradling it between his left ear and shoulder again.

“Are you still there?”

“I’m here,” he rasped.

“Good, because I’m touching myself and I’m thinking of you.”

He listened to her breathless voice, the thought that she might be on the other end stimulating herself when he wanted to drove him closer to the edge. He bit his bottom lip and closed his eyes as he stroked his dick harder, faster, felt the pressure building at the base of his spine. “You are such a bitch, Tabitha.”

“I know, but you love that about me, don’t you?”

“Yes, damn it.”

“I know you do, baby.”

She paused for an interminable several seconds while he filled in the gaps, pictured her licking her luscious full lips and touching those proud mahogany nipples he remembered so well from their encounter in the fitting room. Her breasts had been so round and full, high and perky. Inviting. “Are you wet, Tabby?”

“Very. I’m dripping.”

“Shit!” He gasped as the pressure heated and twisted in his balls right before it came to a head, and exploded out of his penis in a spurt of semen that seemed to keep coming and coming so strong and hard until he thought he’d discharged a life’s span supply.

He lay on his back for several endless seconds, panting and trembling on the mattress, perspiration slowly drying on his torso in the coolness of the hotel room’s air conditioning.

“Eric!” Tabitha shouted. “Eric, are you still there?”

EJ cleared his throat, opened his eyes and searched for the receiver, found it on the carpeted floor at his feet, scooped it up and put it back to his ear. “I’m still here.”

“Did you come?”

“You know I did, you little witch.”

96

Beneath the Surface

She giggled, sounding simultaneously girlish and foxy, making him want to throw her down on her sofa and thrust into her so hard she’d know what the real thing felt like instead of playing these cat and mouse games long distance.

Hell, he had just had an explosive orgasm, and he was angry with the woman who’d been at its core for no other reason than he couldn’t get his hands on her right then.

“Don’t feel bad. I did, too.”

“Did you?”

“And I thought of you the entire time. Thought of your big hands on my body, your long fingers inside me…”

If she didn’t stop he’d be hard all over again, and he didn’t think he had the energy to go another round with her, not on the phone anyway. In person was another story.

He wanted her live and in the flesh, and he’d show her what sensuality and multiple orgasms were all about, none of this 1-900-Sex-Talk shit.

“So, ah…” He cleared his throat again. “I guess you’re going to get back to your movie now?”

“I’m not sure it’ll measure up now. Tom
certainly
doesn’t do it for me like you do.”

“Watch
Aliens
then, and think of me in Michael Biehn’s part.”

“I’m already pulling out my DVD.”

97

Gracie C. McKeever

God, she hadn’t just
done
that! She couldn’t have just had phone sex with the man!

Tabitha got up from the couch and ran to the bathroom to wash up and change into another pair of panties and a long T-shirt.

She hadn’t been lying when she’d told Eric she was dripping. Her panties were soaked when she took them off and put them in the hamper.

She came back to the living room and stood in the center of the floor looking at the popcorn littering the polished parquet. Somewhere along the line she’d kicked the bowl off her coffee table and this was the result.

She vaguely remembered her feet flailing out in front of her when she’d hit her Gspot with a finger, imagining Eric’s naked body glistening with perspiration beneath her, between her thighs as she straddled and rode him hard.