Talk Dirty To Me

  Talk Dirty to Me

  by

  Christine Daily

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Talk Dirty To Me

  COPYRIGHT Ó 2008 by Christine Daily

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: info@thewildrosepress.com

  Cover Art by Angela Anderson

  The Wild Rose Press

  PO Box 708

  Adams Basin, NY 14410-0706

  Visit us at www.thewilderroses.com

  Publishing History

  First Scarlet Rose Edition, 2008

  Published in the United States of America

  Dedication

  For my mom, who said I could.

  Talk Dirty To Me

  Amanda Davenport chanted, “Print, print, print,” as she pressed the button on her brand new printer. She stomped her foot when it didn’t work—again. Her boss was waiting for her time card but would only accept it by fax. The problem was that the printer wasn’t cooperating and she had been working on it for hours. It was the perfectly horrible end to a perfectly horrible month.

  Amanda rifled through her purse to find the customer service number of the computer company that had sold her the new printer. She plucked it from her wallet and punched the numbers into the phone.

  “Technical support. This is Robert Mitchell. How may I help you?” a husky, cheerful voice asked.

  Amanda took a deep breath and thought of all the ways someone, anyone, could help her. She needed a new job. She needed a new car. She needed a boyfriend. She…needed.

  However, she just said, “There are lots of ways you can help me, but let’s start with my printer. I can’t get this new machine that your company sold me to print.” Three hours of working on a printer that refused to do its job had left her more than grumpy.

  “I know exactly how that feels,” the voice said with a smile. “Let’s see if we can get you working.” His slow, southern drawl immediately caught her interest. “What seems to be the problem?”

  “I’m trying to print my time card so I can be paid, but all I get are colored bars on the paper.”

  “I can help you with that. What kind of business are you in?” he asked, making small talk while he typed.

  “I’m a call girl,” she mumbled. She had not told a single, solitary soul about her new job as a “phone actress,” where she pretended to be a buxom blonde named Chloe. But here she was, spilling her guts to a computer technician. She must be even lonelier than she realized.

  “You have to be kidding.”

  She could just imagine the look on his face and cringed at the hint of disappointment in his voice. She should have expected it, but it still bothered her when she heard his judgmental tone and felt obligated to explain.

  “To me, my job is very much like yours. We both wear headsets. We both pass info to clients. We both have an end product, which is a happy customer. I sell the voice. Not my body. I’m a phone actress, and I can’t work again until I turn in this month’s time card. Can you stop judging me and start helping me?”

  In truth, she had just started the job a few days before and only then because she was having trouble finding other work in her field. She forced herself to take a deep breath and stop flicking her pen against the desk in frustration. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “I’m a little touchy about it.”

  “Phone actress?” he asked. “Is that sort of like a…”

  “Like a what?” she prompted as she forced her voice to become more sultry, and just a tad softer. “Go ahead. Say it.”

  “Phone sex?” he whispered.

  “Mmmmm hmmmm…” She nearly purred.

  “Stop that,” he said quietly.

  “Stop what?” Her tone was more breath than voice.

  “You know what,” he playfully scolded. “And you just did it again.” He laughed.

  “Sorry. Occupational hazard.” Amanda couldn’t help but smile. “I’ll try not to do it any more.” She imagined him shifting in his chair, trying to hide his arousal from his coworkers. She liked the thought that he might be affected by her.

  “Now, I know why you’re in that line of work,” he admitted, his voice a little deeper than before.

  “Did you just get hard?” She couldn’t help it. She could almost see him reach down and adjust his erection, and it made her feel powerful and in control. She could be anything she wanted to be over the phone. And she took advantage of every second.

  “What do you think?” He groaned.

  “I think you want me to say dirty things to you—”

  “Stop!” Then he whispered, “How did you find a job like that?”

  “It sort of found me. And it’s temporary while I look for something permanent. I tell my mother I’m a telemarketer.”

  “I hate to change the subject, but some of our calls are recorded for quality assurance,” Robby reminded her. “So, let’s get your printer working.” His gorgeous tone fell upon her ears as he detailed the way to fix her problem. She took copious notes.

  “That should just about do it for you. If you need anything else, give us a call back. I mean, I’m not sure why you would need anything else, but if you do, you can certainly call me back here, and I’ll talk you through fixing it. I mean, only if you need the help. I can’t think of any other reason.”

  She had always been a sucker for a man with a stammer. I really should behave myself.

  But his earlier interest in her work had her panties wet and she found herself wanting more. More what? She wasn’t sure, but she wanted an opportunity to find out. She debated with the little devil on her shoulder for about thirty seconds before replying in her Chloe fuck-me voice, “I want to talk to you more. Are you interested?”

  Over his intake of breath, she thought that she heard a small moan. “Yes, ma’am. I think that I can help you with that. Um…or…or maybe you can help me with that. What’s the number?”

  ****

  The conversation played again and again in her head. After months of talking every day on the phone, he finally asked, “Meet me in person?” And here she was, waiting to meet the man of her dreams.

  Amanda sat back against the seat of her car as she tried to still her quivering knees. What the hell am I doing?

  She groaned, sighed and squeezed her eyes shut. “You’re finding out if the attraction, the passion and the friendship are all real.”

  Now or never. She got out of the car and headed toward the small beachside cottage in the pouring rain, feet sloshing in the puddles. The gravel drive was dark with only a single streetlight to light her way. Lifting the doormat, she retrieved a small gold key and fit it in the lock.

  “I will not screw this up,” she whispered. “This will not be like my other relationships. I will be good at this.”

  She turned and twisted the key, but the door refused to open. An indication of what she should expect? Stalled before she could even get in the door? She cursed and stomped her feet, rain sloshing up to soak her socks.

  Just great. She had finally gotten up the courage to meet her mystery man, but the damn door wouldn’t budge. “Please,” she whispered and rested her forehead against the door in defeat. The door creaked open under her weight, and she stumbled into the chilly, dark foyer.

  Unable to control her thundering heart and watering mouth, she started down t
he hallway, wondering where Robby was. She reached into her denim pocket to retrieve the small slip of paper that sealed her fate. The instructions read:

  Meet me at the house by the beach. You know the one I told you about. I want to teach YOU something for a change. 8:00.

  The note had been delivered along with one dozen long stemmed roses and a box. The enclosed note read: For My Eyes Only, Love Robby. Inside was a slinky burgundy teddy in her size. She was amazed that he had remembered and that he had bought the right outfit, which was neither too trashy nor too revealing. It was perfect. And she was wearing it beneath her jeans and sweater.

  What am I doing? I shouldn’t be here. I should be at home, tucked in bed, waiting for his phone call to make me complete. The phone was so much safer than real life.

  She walked farther down the hallway, a chill knifing up her spine as the wind raced around the corners of the dark and drafty beach house. Spotting a light switch, she tried it, only to find there was no power. But a flash of lightning illuminated the room. It was empty, aside from a few boxes stacked along the wall.

  She pulled her jacket tighter around her body and waited, wondering if he was hiding in a corner, planning to sneak away in case she didn’t match the description she’d given him. Some men didn’t like women with curves. She had been completely honest about her appearance, but still feared he would find her unattractive. Her limited experience with men left her soul clouded with doubts and fears about her own worth as a woman. Before Robby, she had sworn off men, at least temporarily, trying to ease her broken heart.

  Looks like he’s going to be late.

  Amanda sat down on an overturned box to await his arrival. What if he doesn’t show up? Robby had always been completely faithful, calling when he promised and always being available when her schedule allowed, but meeting in person was different. It turned a fantasy into reality, which scared her to death.

  At her mother’s insistence, Amanda had done a complete background check before agreeing to meet him. He came up clean as a whistle. She felt like she knew him after all of the hours they had spent talking on the phone. She knew his favorite color, his favorite food, his hopes and dreams. But she was still nervous. This was “meeting for real,” after all.

  ****

  Robby stepped through the back door of the cottage and pulled off his raincoat, searching in the dark for her silhouette, anticipating meeting the woman with the sexy voice that had filled his head for the past year.

  Their talks had been more than phone sex. Or at least he hoped they had been. He knew she loved to eat sushi and she drove a Saturn. He knew about her childhood and that she had Kool-Aid every day when she was a kid. He also knew she was incredibly insecure about her body and she almost never dated. They had formed a bond over the phone; both sexual and personal. Now he wanted to know more.

  He almost doubted she would show up. On the phone, she was a wild little she-cat who could make him come in two minutes flat. She could talk about anything from licking his ass to fucking him with a dildo. And she had. Now it was time to take it to the next level, to make it real. Some men might settle for less, but he wasn’t willing to settle for anything less than all of her, body and soul. He just needed to let Chloe know how he felt.

  Their trysts had been spectacular but lacked one thing. She was always in control, calling the shots, and he came when she said to. She came every two out of three calls, but because she was stroking her pussy, not because of anything that he did. Tonight would be different. Tonight he would touch her and taste her and…please her.

  Robby knew she didn’t date often and had never been romanced by a boyfriend. He also knew she had never been in love, despite her twenty-six years. She had opened up a whole new world of pleasure for him, and, tonight, he planned to do the same for her. He walked into the master bedroom of the small cottage, carrying a box loaded with goodies, each item picked simply to make her feel special.

  He placed a dozen or so candles around the room and spread a layer of soft blankets on the floor. He opened a bottle of chilled wine and placed two glasses on the silky blanket, then lifted the lid of the picnic basket and allowed the contents to spill over. Cheese. Wine. Crackers. Fruit. Chocolate. All of her favorites.

  He heard the front door creak open, but he wasn’t quite finished. He set up the CD player and started a CD, Norah Jones, her favorite. He turned it down and walked out to greet his guest.

  She sat on an overturned box, her long brown hair hanging in her face as she looked down at the floor. Her black jeans hugged her body and the sweater barely contained her large breasts. He sucked in his breath at the sight of her, instantly growing hard. She was everything he expected and more.

  She moved to turn toward him.

  “Stop. Keep looking at the floor. I have a surprise for you, and I don’t want you to see it.”

  She nodded her head in silent agreement, her head down.

  He removed a silk scarf from his pocket and slipped it over her eyes. She leaned toward him so he could tie the scarf in place and he inhaled deeply, enjoying her lavender scent. Taking her hands in his, he lifted her from her seat. He pulled her hands close to his mouth and blew his warm breath across her cold fingers, and she shivered.

  “You are more beautiful than I ever imagined,” he breathed gently beside her ear.

  “Hi,” she said tentatively.

  “Hi, Chloe.” He looked down at her body. Her nipples strained against the fuzzy fabric of her sweater. He smiled at her insecurity, glad she couldn’t see how pleased he was to be in charge.

  Amanda had never been so aroused, never wanted to touch someone so badly. The blindfold heightened her awareness of his breathing, his heat and his sheer presence. He took her hand, placed his arm around her waist and led her through the house. She heard the soft music playing and smiled. Norah Jones, her favorite. He remembered.

  “Sit.” At his urging, she sat on soft blankets and placed her hands on her bent knees.

  “What should I do now?” She was always in control and always led their conversations on the phone. He normally just followed. And listened. And stroked his cock. But tonight was different. And she was scared.

  “Now you just feel, Chloe,” he whispered so close to her face that she could smell the sweet scent of his breath. He placed a glass in her hand. “Drink.”

  She took a small sip and smiled. Her favorite wine. He had thought of everything.

  Robby touched her leg, running his hand from her knee to her ankle, and she shivered again. He untied her sneakers and pulled them from her feet. He slipped off her soggy socks, too. “Your feet are freezing.”

  She heard the smile in his voice. His warms hands rubbed her feet, gently massaging them until they warmed. No one had ever treated her so tenderly.

  “I am going to kiss you, Chloe,” he whispered, his face suddenly inches from her mouth, startling her, his breath on her lips as it moved across her cheek. “But I’m not sure where.”

  Her heart skipped a beat as the heat from his mouth warmed her ear and then her neck. It breezed along her collarbone and back up to her chin. She trembled.

  One second later, his lips touched hers, softly at first, sucking her bottom lip into his mouth and nipping it gently with his teeth. She drew in a breath; never believing his lips would be so soft and yet firm. His tongue gently probed her lips, licking the lower one until they parted, giving him access. He ran his tongue slowly over her teeth, willing them to part as well. Her tongue reached out to touch his, and she sucked it between her lips, gently pulling it into her mouth. She heard him gasp, and then he withdrew, quickly moving away from her. She reached out her hand to find him, to bring his hard body back. He grabbed her fumbling hands and pushed them back to her lap.

  “Are you hungry, Chloe?” His voice deepened with desire.

  She shook her head slightly. Her hunger was only for him.

  “I’m hungry, Chloe. And I am going to use you as the plate. Do you mind?”
>
  She shook her head, which was already spinning in anticipation. Goosebumps raised on her arms as she imagined him licking and nipping at her skin, consuming her.

  Without asking, his hands fell to her waist and slipped beneath her sweater. He gently caressed her silky mid riff before he slowly tugged her sweater over her head. She heard his breath catch. She knew her breasts spilled over the top of the burgundy teddy and hoped she looked sexy in his eyes.

  “You are beautiful, Chloe, just as I knew you would be.” Her nipples strained against the bodice of the teddy, begging for his touch as he removed something from the basket. “Bite this,” he said, giving her no choice but to try what he placed in her mouth. The cheese melted on her tongue, the sharp cheddar flavor filling her mouth.

  “And one for me.” He placed another small piece on her shoulder. His tongue licked across her shoulder before he picked up the cheese with his teeth.

  “What—”

  He silenced her by placing a cold, round object to her lips. She opened her mouth for him and took the grape.

  He brushed her hair to the side with determined hands and placed something cool and firm at the base of her neck. Another grape? He licked with his raspy tongue, tasting her skin. “You taste so good,” he breathed into her ear and then he took the grape into his mouth. Her heartbeat raced.

  He removed another item from the basket at his side and lifted it to her lips. She bit it slowly, feeling strawberry seeds against her tongue and slurped as the juice ran down her chin. His lips quickly moved to catch the juicy nectar, and she turned her head to try to catch his in a kiss.

  “Not yet.” He laughed as he placed the remaining strawberry half at the V between her breasts. “Let’s try a strawberry, here.”

  The juice trickled down her cleavage. Her breath caught in her throat as his tongue trailed along the line of her teddy, slowly licking its way to the treat. She arched her back, silently begging him to get closer.