"Carter?" she says. "Ignore me."
As if I could. "I think we'd have great fucking sex."
Her breathing catches on the other line and I close my eyes. Imagine her sitting across from me, watching the flush creep up on her cheeks. "We would, wouldn't we," she murmurs. "Even if it might be awkward at first."
I chuckle darkly. "It won't be awkward."
"It often is, the first time," she says, and I experience a brief and violent impulse to kill every man she's referring to in that statement. It passes, and what I'm left with is a burning desire to prove her wrong.
"It can be. Won't be for us, though."
"Oh?" Her voice is a caress in my ear. "What do you think we'd do?"
"If you want me to go there, I will. But fair warning."
"Wait," she says. "Just give me a minute, okay?"
I can't believe she didn't stop me. Adrenaline and something else, something darker, pulses through my veins.
Her voice is a whisper in my ear, along with the rustling of fabric. "I'm back."
"Did you just get into bed?"
"Yes," she says. "Is that… okay?"
I run a hand through my hair. "Fuck yes, that's okay."
"Well, I'm ready, Carter. Tell me what it would be like."
"I know what I'd like to do," I say. "If you were here with me at this conference. We'd go out to eat, like we did last week. Just the two of us."
"Would you be in a suit?"
"You like me in one?"
A brief pause. "Yes. You look handsome."
I haven't started touching myself properly yet, and I'm already edging closer to the finish line. Her words are too sweet. Sweeter still, knowing that she's in bed, that she's considering this. Considering us.
Actually asking me to tell her what we'd do. I could tell her I've fantasized about this, but I don't want her to run.
"Well, then. I'll be in a suit. You'll have your curls out, the way you did last week. We'd talk. I'd tell you how beautiful you look, and I'd mean it, too. I'd kiss you right there at the table."
"In the restaurant?"
"Where anyone could see," I say. "I wouldn't be able to stop myself."
Had a damn hard enough time last week, when I'd dropped her off.
"Oh," she breathes. "We'd kiss for a long time."
I grin. "Would we?"
"Yes. I love kissing. Slow, teasing… not too much tongue."
"Are you giving me tips here, Audrey?"
"Maybe." Her voice sounds flustered. "Is that okay?"
"I thrive on critique," I say. "So I'd kiss you a long time. Draw it out. Make you beg for more."
"Beg," she repeats. "Beg for you to take me back to the hotel, you mean?"
"Yes. Would you?"
"If you kiss me good enough, I just might."
It instantly becomes a goal. "Then I will. We'd get back to my hotel room. It would be slow at first. I'd get you a drink. Kiss your neck."
Even though I'd want to go very, very fast. But from her comments, it's been a while for her. She needs trust and friendship and I can't think of anything worse than wasting the chance to fuck Audrey properly because I get too eager.
"This is going very slowly," she says.
I make my voice mock stern. "Didn't you say that's what you liked? Are you critiquing my phone sex skills too?"
"So that is what we're having," she says. "It feels different to hear you say it."
"We're heading in that direction, at any rate," I say. My voice feels hoarse. "It's a poor substitute, but…"
"Good preparation," she says, and I bite my tongue to stop from groaning. So she's saying we'll have it one day. "I think I'd take off your shirt. Before you take off mine, I mean."
"That's allowed," I say.
"I'd want you to unzip my dress slowly. Run your hands over me. Make me feel…"
"Make you feel what, Audrey?"
"Wanted," she whispers.
I close my eyes. "I could do that. Wouldn't be difficult at all."
"I'd show you just how much I wanted you, too. Tell you how fucking hard you make me."
"I'd make you hard?"
"You already do," I say, and tuck my phone against my chin to undo my belt buckle. My pants feel uncomfortably tight, stretched over my cock.
"Did you…" Audrey says, then clears her throat. "Did you just undo a zipper?"