Page 46 of A Ballad of Betrayal and Beauty

I pause. Does he not speak to his mother? I’m not a therapist but maybe he has mommy issues. Is that why he’s so into degradation? There’s a whole lot to unpack there, but I can’t make assumptions based off one phone call confession. Besides, I’m not one to judge.

“Do you talk to your parents?” he asks.

“I don’t speak to either of them.”

“Why not?”

I sigh. “A lot of reasons. None of them nice.”

“Yeah . . . me too.”

“I’m sorry,” I say softly.

“Don’t be. Some people just can’t see past their own prejudice.”

“That’s hard. Are you happy, at least?”

He hums into the phone. “Sometimes. I am right now.”

“Any particular reason?”

“A certain sexy lady on the phone answered my call for the third time. I’m starting to think the universe is trying to tell me something.”

I suck in a quiet breath. “You haven’t spoken to anyone else?”

“You’re three for three, sweetheart.”

I don’t understand it, but the tight knots in my shoulders seem to loosen knowing he’s only ever spoken to me. “We never agreed to be exclusive,” I tease again, trying to lighten the mood. “If you speak to other girls on the phone . . . it’s okay.”

“Maybe I don’t want to talk to other girls.”

Heat creeps into my cheeks. “I’m flattered.”

“God, your voice is so fucking sexy,” he groans into the phone. “I feel like I’ve known you forever. Just hearing you gets me hard.”

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“Of course.”

“I had to clench my thighs together when I heard your voice on the phone,” I admit. “Your voice . . . it does things to me.”

I can practically see him smile. I really try to picture it this time. Try to imagine it’s Joel’s smile, but like a dream, the more I concentrate on it, the faster it fades away. Then that guilty feeling crawls back in. “Oh really? Does hearing me call you a dirty slut make you wet?”

Nodding, I swallow and answer, “Yes.”

“What else?”

“My nipples get so hard,” I continue, my breaths getting shallower, “it’s almost painful.”

“If I was there with you, I’d strip you down piece by piece until you’re naked, nipples standing at attention for me to do with as I please.”

As if they can hear him, my nipples rub uncomfortably against the inside of my bra. I check behind me and look around to make sure no one in the office is watching my cubicle then take a moment to adjust my breasts. The touch of my fingers against the sensitive peaks nearly rockets me out of my chair. “What would you do to them?”

“Oh sweetheart, you know I like things a little rough. You’re hoping for it, aren’t you?”

“I might be.”

“So, if I attached some clamps to those perky little tits, it would make you wetter, wouldn’t it?”

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