9781618857293WhisperSweetNothingsHunter Page 2

  "I want you too, all of you. Where, Sam? Here in the water or on shore, on that soft blanket beneath the stars?"

  "The blanket..."

  "Let's go then...I'll race you there?" she quipped playfully, trying to ease his fears. "Oh, hell...you beat me. I suppose you should get some kind of reward."

  He laughed and she could almost see his smile.

  "What's my prize then?"

  "When the time comes, you get to choose. Do you want to be on top or shall I assume the position?" She nearly purred, encouraged by the sound of his breath picking up.

  "If you wouldn't mind, I'd like you to be on top."

  "I don't mind at all," she replied in a silky tone. "Sit down next to me," she asked gently. "Will you take my hair down? Run your fingers through it? It's soft and silky...a little damp…oh, that feels good. Tell me what you want, Sam."

  "If I wanted you to go down…" he hesitated, but she knew exactly what he wanted.

  "I’ll do anything you ask me to. Lie down next to me. Imagine my hands moving over your damp skin…sliding over your hips as I settle onto my knees between your legs, my long hair brushing across your inner thighs. Mmmm…you smell good. I can't wait to taste you, but first I want to touch you. Damn, you are so hard. Does that feel good?"

  "God, yes…don't stop."

  "I won't. Only long enough to let my lips brush against the head of your cock…stopping to taste that little drop of desire…you do taste good…you don't mind if I take a little more, do you?"

  "You can do whatever you want."

  "My lips are moving over you and I'm going take you as far as I can into my warm mouth. You stop me when you think you are close Sam because I want you to make love to me," she told him, continuing to describe how she was going down on him.

  "Should I..."

  "Of course. Go ahead and touch yourself, but remember...what you are feeling...that's me...my mouth…my tongue. I'm there with you, kneeling between your legs and taking that beautiful cock of yours into my mouth."

  She described to him in full detail what she was doing and a few minutes passed before he spoke, breathless. "I'm close, Sherry…"

  "Stop then. I want you to make love to me and I need that cock of yours rock hard. In fact, I am going to move up, slide my body over yours as I lay on top of you, my hair brushing across your skin. Feel those goose bumps?"

  He groaned and she felt her confidence continue to grow.

  "Sam…I'm going to kiss you so hard I’m going to take your breath away," she sighed into the phone as she let loose a low moan, which echoed his.

  "Your body feels so strong beneath mine. My breasts are pressing against your chest and I can feel your heart pounding as I kiss your neck…your jaw…back to those sexy lips of yours. Mmmm, you do know how to kiss," she teased, wanting a blend of erotic and sexy fun in the now fully ad-libbed script.

  She heard him moan, the passionate sound sending her own heart racing. "Can you feel my heat against you? I am that hot and wet because of you," she purred as she shifted in her chair a little, grateful she was alone in the small office. She wondered how the other girls managed their physical reactions, if they had any at all.

  "You don't mind if I nibble on your neck while I slide my pussy up and down the length of your cock, do you?" she continued, carefully adding a few spicy words but sensing he wanted this to be sweet and romantic.

  "Hell, girl...you feel so good…so ready…are you ready for me?"

  She smiled. "Ready and willing, but why don't you see for yourself." She purred as she made a soft sound in her throat. "I am going to move up so you can taste me. I want to feel your mouth on me…tasting my honey…" She could hear him sigh as she described the state of her pussy to him.

  "Oh, Sam…damn, you know your way around down there. Oh, don't stop…that's it…suck a little harder. Oh! What are you doing with your tongue?" she asked and was inexplicably excited when he described in vivid detail what he was doing to her.

  "Sherry?"

  "Yeah?"

  "Are you in a place where you can get comfortable, if you know what I mean? I want you to come too. Really come. I…if I was really making love to you, I would make sure you did."

  She was silent for a moment, taken aback by his suggestion and implied thoughtfulness towards her needs, virtual or not.

  "You're a great lover, Sam. I'm sure you will see that I do," she replied. "A couple of times," she added and he laughed.

  "You know it."

  "Don't make me wait any longer. I want you…I need to feel you inside me. I'm going to slide back down and…wow, you are even harder than before.

  "Oh, that's it…you feel good…it's been so long and I'm so tight. I want to go slow...lower myself onto that hard cock of yours...just a little at a time…ohhhhh." She moaned as she found herself wishing she could be there.

  She knew that wasn't part of the act, wondering if she was odd to be turned on by this virtual lovemaking, but there was something about Sam.

  "How do I feel to you?" she asked, wanting to engage him and shift her train of thought.

  "Hot...tight...and very wet. I wish I could smell you...your hair...your perfume...you know...the way a woman smells when she's excited to be with you?"

  "Yes…and I am excited to be with you. We smell good. I'm riding you nice and slow and deep. Damn, you feel good. Oh, I like that...thrust up a little harder...you won't hurt me. That's it...oh, hell...a little harder…more..."

  "Damn girl...harder?" He moaned and she could hear the faint sounds of him pleasuring himself.

  "Yes, please...that's it...don't stop! I'm going to put my hands on your chest…that way I can ride you a little harder…faster…and I can kiss you…I love kissing you..."

  "Sherry." He groaned and she could tell he was close, but she had a feeling he wouldn't come unless he thought she had found her release. "I want you to come with me…please!"

  "I'm not sure I can, Sam." This wasn't in any script she'd read so far.

  "For me. I don't know where you are, but shut the door or do whatever you have to do. I can't hold off much longer."

  She hesitated a moment and then decided to oblige him. Your job is to give the customer what he wants. A happy client is a repeat client. The boss' words echoed in her mind as she stood and walked to the door. Rachel looked over, raising a brow.

  Silently, she tried to deny her intentions, but Rachel gave her a knowing smile and winked.

  "For you," she whispered as she sat back at her desk, slipping one hand beneath her skirt. She was soaked through and knew it wouldn't take much effort on her part to make herself come. She closed her eyes again and started to move her fingers over herself, letting loose a sharp gasp followed by a deep moan.

  He echoed her moan with a deep groan of his own and she felt the first wave of what held the promise of a powerful release building within her. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she couldn't believe she was doing this. The old Sarah would never have indulged in such wanton behavior, but she wondered if her hang-ups and stifled sexuality had more to do with her ex-husband then herself.

  "Oh my God, that's it…harder…I want to come all over you. Oh…Sam!" she cried out his name.

  "Are you close?" he asked, his voice heavy with passion and wanting.

  "Yes. Come with me...ohhhh...yes…I'm coming..." she released a loud cry of pleasure and, for a moment, forgot where she was, instead imagining herself atop this sweet, sexy man, coming hard over him as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through her.

  She heard Sam let loose a deep moan and smiled as he cried out her name.

  "Don't stop, Sherry…keep going…I'm still hard and…I want you to come again for me."

  Again, she obliged him and let loose a cry of surprise when she actually came a second time. Damn.

  A few moments passed and she listened to his ragged breathing, barely audible over her own. "You were amazing, Sam." She was first to break the easy silence between them. "I take it you are
feeling better?"

  He laughed. "I am. You don't mind if I think of you at night when I..."

  "No, not at all," she replied.

  She glanced at the time on the screen. The hour his friends had paid for was almost up. "Anything else you need?" she asked feeling a tug of regret that the call would soon be over and he'd be gone.

  "If you were really here…would you stay the night with me?"

  His question caught her by surprise and for a moment, she was silent. How long had it been since she had fallen asleep in a lover's arms? "Yes...and I'd wake you in the morning with slow kisses and make love to you again."

  She heard him sigh, heavy with a wistful longing. "I'll call you when I get back. Are you okay with that?"

  "Just make sure you get back safe and sound and I'll be here."

  "Sweet dreams, Sherry."

  "Sweet dreams, Sam, and thank you for making my first time special. Be safe."

  After he hung up, she took off her headset and straightened her clothes. Sitting back, she stared blankly out the darkened window, strangely affected by this man named Sam. What the hell had just happened?

  There was a knock at the door and she wasn't surprised to see Rachel poke her head in.

  "You okay? That wasn't too bad right? You lucked out for your first time."

  Sarah smiled but was feeling oddly vulnerable, still shaken by her alter-ego's experience.

  "It happens to all of us sweetie. Not all the time but when it does, just go with it. What the hell right? Consider it one of the perks of the job. So…are you sure you haven't done this before because you could have fooled me?"

  Laughing, she shook her head. "Damned sure."

  * * * *

  Peeking into her grandmother's new room at the nursing home, Sarah was careful not to make too much noise, unsure if she was awake.

  "Sarah Beana! Can you believe this place? It's a hell of a lot better than the last one. Here I have my own room…no roommate. And I have my own bathroom and a view of the mountains! Now I can watch the snow fall and paint on the days I can't make it outside."

  "It's beautiful, Grandma. I'm glad to see you happy again," she replied, grateful that her unconventional part-time venture was bringing joy to the most important person in her life.

  "How did you afford it?"

  The older woman's question caught her off guard and she hesitated a moment too long. "What do you mean?"

  Blue eyes wizened by age gazed at her pointedly. "I know you had something to do with this and we both know you are broke. You don't owe me anything you know and I…I don't want you going into debt for me."

  Shaking her head, Sarah walked towards the bed, sitting down in an adjacent chair. "Let's get something straight," she began, taking her grandmother's fragile hand in her own. "I'm a big girl and I can do what I want, but you really don't need to worry. The woman at social services was able to get her referral package to the right person and voila…here you are. I only had to cover a small portion," she lied easily, not wanting anything to overshadow her grandmother's happiness.

  "Where did you get that small portion? I know you don't get paid much for that internship."

  "No, not much but enough. And I was able to pick up a part-time job."

  "Doing what?"

  "Bartending. Remember, I told you?" She had told her but vaguely, the guilt about lying leading her to change the subject quickly.

  "Sure, sure. The tips are that good, huh?" Her tone indicated she didn't believe her, but she didn't press further.

  "Good enough. Now no more talk about money. It's a beautiful day, Gram. Come on…let's head outside and paint for a little while."

  * * * *

  "Heya, Sweet Sherry." Rachel greeted Sarah in a sing-song voice as she walked down the hall towards her office. Over the ensuing months, she'd built an enviable following with customers who craved sweet, girl-next-door experiences, and Sweet Sherry was her current moniker amongst the clients and the other staff.

  "Hey, Rachel," she replied, watching the elegant older woman walk into her office.

  "You have another letter from your biggest fan, Soldier Sam." Rachel tossed the envelope onto the desk before sitting on the edge.

  Fan mail was sent to a post office box and although a response wasn't expected, management encouraged employees to take care of the customers. A happy customer is a repeat customer.

  "Thanks. How are the kids?" Picking up the envelope, her fingertips glided gently over the familiar handwriting, the same flutter of anticipation welling within the pit of her stomach with each letter that arrived.

  Rachel groaned. "Let's just say I know why some species eat their young."

  Sarah giggled. Over the past several months, she and Rachel, a single mother of two tiny terrors, had become good friends.

  "How is your grandmother doing, hon?"

  "Better. The fall she took last week set her back some but she didn't break anything so that's a blessing. Oh, here…she painted something for Jilly."

  Rachel opened the large envelope and let loose a gasp. "Wow! Beautiful! How did she know Jilly loves faeries?"

  Sarah shrugged innocently.

  "Thank her for me and I'm sure Jilly will write her another thank you note. Well, its Friday night girl…you ready for some fun?"

  "Oh yeah. Another night in paradise."

  "I know, doll, but this gig pays the bills. We both have roofs to keep over our heads and bills to pay so sometimes…you do what you have to do. There's no shame in it."

  Nodding, she sighed, watching Rachel leave for her own office. Before the phones started ringing she wanted to read Sam's letter.

  Strange how their friendship—if that's what one would call it—had progressed since that first night. Much to her surprise, they'd shared an instant kinship, which led to the formation of a unique relationship between them, even if in his mind it was with Sherry.

  Regardless, during the subsequent months, she'd enjoyed reading his long letters that he wrote with remarkable detail, and sometimes heartbreaking candor, about his experiences in Afghanistan, his childhood, and his dreams for the future.

  At first, she wasn't sure about writing back, but she sensed he needed her—or someone—to give a damn. In between calls here and working on a project for the architecture firm where she was doing her internship, she penned equally long letters of support and encouragement, over time revealing more about herself and her own dreams, including her long-time dream to sing. The joint leap of faith forged a special friendship.

  He'd even been able to call once from overseas and although the conversation was short, he managed to talk her into singing one song for him. Doing so had been a huge milestone in overcoming her fear of singing in front of people. Afterwards, he shared sobering news. Their unit had taken a huge hit and, clearly, he'd been deeply traumatized by the loss of some of his men.

  Much to her dismay, this letter was considerably shorter, the tone a bit darker and after reading it through once more, she sensed something might be wrong. Still, as he always did, he signed off with the phone number of a friend's club, Crossroads, encouraging her to call him and try out for a singing job.

  She'd never revealed her exact location but shared enough details of the general area and the landscape, and he'd guessed she was somewhere near Denver, obviously familiar with the area. Soon after, she learned he hailed from the same state and lived only a couple of hours away.

  Although he usually included pictures of himself, she hadn't done the same, a line she wasn't quite ready to cross. The pictures offered a glimpse of a handsome man about the same age as she. He had jet hair cut short and brilliant blue eyes and a body to die for. This last picture worried her, though. His complexion seemed pale in comparison, and the smile usually shining within his blue eyes appeared to have taken on a shadowy cast, confirming her fears.

  Just about to start a letter back to him, the phone rang. "And so it begins." She took a deep breath before picking up. "Hello, this
is Sherry. Welcome to Whisper Sweet Nothings…"

  * * * *

  After her shift, Sarah drove past Crossroads for the twelfth time, once again unable to resist the temptation. Pulling over, she stared wistfully at the club and this time almost summoned up the nerve to walk in and talk to the owner.

  What would she say? Hi, I'm Sarah, but your friend Sam knows me as Sherry, a phone sex operator, and he told me to stop by and ask for a job. She laughed, shaking her head. Why was she torturing herself? Because you want to sing more than breathe.

  It's a gift Sarah Beana, her grandmother would say whenever she'd finished singing for her, chiding her for not sharing it with the world.

  Sitting back, she lowered the windows of her Jeep and let the music that drifted from the club surround her.

  Singing had been a lifelong dream of hers, but sometimes life had a way of taking a different course than one might have originally plotted. Getting married much too young, followed by the responsibility of caring for her grandmother on her shoulders alone, she'd been forced to let go of the dream and pursue more lucrative options.

  Yet here before her existed a chance to revisit that dream, compliments of her military pen pal—the man who had inexplicably come to mean so much to her.

  All right…enough self-torture for one evening. She was leaning forward to start the Jeep when a familiar figure caught her eye. A few moments later, she was walking towards the club. "Joe, is that you?" she called out. The man started and turned to stare at her as though he'd just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

  "Sarah? What…what are you doing down here?" he asked, uncharacteristically nervous.

  "Oh, just revisiting an old dream. What about you?"

  "Got a lead on a job and my mother-in-law has the kids for the weekend. Thought I'd take advantage of the free time, you know." Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he seemed uncomfortable.

  "Everything all right?" she ventured, wondering if he'd open up to her. Joe lived in her building, a widower with several little mouths of his own to feed. A good man—very private—but one thing he made no effort to keep secret was his love for his kids.