'I'm afraid so.'
Sean wrinkled his nose. 'I thought you didn't want people rolling their eyes at your stuff.'
Joe rubbed his temple with the heel of his palm. 'The story isn't mine, just the songs.'
Sean opened his mouth.
‘I think that's great,' I said, before he could put his foot in it again. 'Is the audition tomorrow?'
Joe shot a wary glance at Sean and nodded.
'Well, I hope you get it. I can't imagine anyone else doing your music justice.'
'Of course, they could,' Joe said. 'I made sure the songs weren't too hard to sing. I mean, not every person with a good voice can read complicated music.'
Sean pretended to strangle him. 'If they're that easy, maybe I should audition.'
Joe twisted free and looked at him. Sean couldn't sing his way out of a paper bag. Still, Joe was nothing if not polite. 'Um, well, sure you could.'
Sean slapped his shoulder. 'Just kidding. I'd rather watch you sing your heart out.'
"The director might not cast me,' he warned.
Sean dismissed that possibility with a soft fft. 'He'd have to be blind as well as deaf to pass you over.'
'I agree,’ I said, and Joe gave us both a bashful kiss.
The call came through while I was up on the coffee balcony consulting with a publisher's rep. Four times a year the reps landed on Mostly Romance's doorstep, slavering to sell me the next season's releases. The process required many hours per salesperson, but I enjoyed it. The high-stakes gamble of it got my blood going - with the thrill of haggling thrown in for good measure. Plus, I loved seeing what my favourite authors had in store for me.
Consequently, when Keith tapped the balcony with our ivory-topped cane - the magic phone wand, Marianne called it -1 told him to take a message.
'It's Joe,’ he said, just loud enough for me to hear. 'It sounds important.'
My heart stumbled. Had something happened? Was he hurt? Barely taking time to excuse myself to the rep, I rushed downstairs.
Normally, I take personal calls in my office, but at the moment that was thirty steps too far. Instead, I joined Keith behind the counter, turned my back to the shop, and stoppered my second ear against a mixture of Latin jazz and happy customer hubbub.
'Joe?' I said, my palm sweating on the phone.
'Kate.' He sounded out of breath. 'How soon can you get off work?'
'I'm busy with a rep right now.' His groan of disappointment sank straight to my gut. 'Why? What's wrong?'
'Nothing,’ he said, making me sag with relief. 'But I got the part and I-' His voice dropped a register. 'I really need to celebrate.'
I clamped my thighs together against a sudden flare of heat. I pictured him in a phone booth on campus somewhere, his muscular shoulder propped on the glass, his prick a painful swelling between his legs. He'd cup it in that way he had, squeezing the whole package hard, as if he could contain his lust by pressure alone.
'Oh,’ I said. Now I was breathless. 'Congratulations. I wish I could get off but -'
'I wish I could get you off.'
I swallowed and clutched the receiver tighter. 'I'm tied up for at least a couple of hours.'
'I wish you were tied up,’ he responded, not missing a beat.
Heat flooded my face. I covered one cheek with a trembling hand. Beneath my grey cashmere dress, my nipples grew erect with embarrassing zeal - and he was just warming up.
'Tying you spread-eagled against the wall would be nice,’ he continued. ‘I would like to go down on you first, but I don't think I can wait. I'll have to fuck you first, I think, real hard and fast, with long, thick strokes that go deeper and deeper until I'm lifting you off your feet every time I drive home. I'll try to last as long as I can. I'll clench my fists and grind my teeth, but it won't do much good. I'll need it too bad, need you squirming hot and silky on my dick, need your tongue in my mouth and your breasts in my hands. You'll want to hold me, to grip the small of my back and keep me close. But it'll be impossible. Your hands will be tied, and your ankles. You'll feel how badly I need to come and you'll wonder: will he last long enough to get me off? But I might not, Kate, because you'll feel so good and I'll have waited so long. It'll go fast at the end - real pile-driver thrusts.
That knot will tighten at the base of my cock, that ache in my balls that says, now, now, now. I'll pull back slowly, trying to hold on. I'll stop with the head clasped inside your beautiful cunt. You'll feel me shaking. You'll say, "Do it, Joe. Do it." So I'll ram back as deeply as I can. And then -'