Читать книгу Follow Your Fantasy: Deeper - Nicola Jane - Страница 9
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Your fingers need to do less work to make a phone call which gives you less chance to back out.
The second it's ringing your stomach goes into freefall. This was a mistake. If she doesn't answer, you'll spend the rest of the night jittery over whether she's going to return your call and paranoid about why she isn't.
It rings on and you wonder why it doesn't go to voicemail. It shouldn't come as a surprise she's too busy to answer. She's hardly likely to be sitting around, staring at her phone at this time of night. Not like you.
She'll know it's you calling as the one, almost personal, thing she did do once was take your photo and add you into her contacts. She'd taken a photo and shown you it before she saved your number. You'd been smiling, shy, at this sudden glimmer that she might count you as someone she knew, maybe even liked. The innocent expression contrasted with the way she'd angled the shot to take in your braless breasts, the nipples pointing through the thin top you were barely wearing.
She'd shattered that naïve schoolgirl hope as soon as you'd got your phone out to do the same thing with a typically derisive comment. 'Wouldn't want to waste my best sexy voice if I know it's just you, would I?'
You'd pretended to check yours for messages and then stuffed it back in your bag, reminded yet again that this was someone you'd never know even if you had had her breasts in your mouth and played with her until she was wet.
You're halfway to pressing the end call button before you realise she's actually answered it.
'Hey, baby,' she purrs in the throaty voice you've heard her use with clients but she'd never have any reason to use with you.
'Giselle?' It's a stupid question. Not only is it her number you've just rung but you know her voice even if it is the vamped up version.
'Baby, I've been hoping you'd call!'
What? Giselle doesn't sit around hoping for a call from you! You're so nonplussed by her enthusiasm that, even if you'd prepared something to say, the words would be dangling uselessly from your lips now.
'Er…ah…I…' you stall feebly. Now, she's going to remember why she reserves no small amount of disdain for you. And then you start to hear what else is audible on the line.
For a start your ditherings are echoing as if you're on speakerphone. But also, there's heavy, exerted breathing near the microphone. And now you think about it, Giselle's voice had sounded further away than the breathing so it can't have been hers.
There's someone else there.
Then, as if to confirm your suspicions, Giselle starts to pant and moan. You listen in, feeling as if you've been invited to rather than being a forgotten audience waiting for one of you to hang up. Maybe you should hang up though. But, if you know anything at all about Giselle, it's that privacy during intimate moments is not high on her priorities.
The man's breathing is louder and you can hear the light slapping sound of skin against skin. Then she starts speaking again, but away from the phone.
'Want me to carry on?' Her voice comes low and far enough away that you have to strain to hear what she's saying to whoever he is. 'Or want two of us to finish off?'
Two of us? There's someone else there as well? You can't understand why she picked up the phone in the first place. You're just about to hang up when there's a scrabbling sound and she speaks directly to you again.
'He wants us both.'
'Both of who?'
'Both of us! Or both of me, I guess, since you started being my twin.'
'Oh, right!' Now you get it.
'That's a yes, doll?' She doesn’t wait for an answer. 'Get over here then '
There's none of the usual mocking challenge to get you to admit you want to break out of your Goody Two Shoes life before she lets you into hers.
She repeats the hotel name twice without any attempt at giving you details. It's completely in character for her to tell you as little as possible, or to give you some detail solely to unnerve you, but something about the way the call started with such obviously fake delight niggles at you.
"Well?" she asks. She's sounding more and more like her usual self as the call goes on.
Something isn't quite right about the switch from BFF to normal Giselle. It's not the terseness that's the strange part, it's the enthusiasm. Unless that was just for the client's benefit, you suppose. You can either pass up on the offer, although it was more like a command, and pluck up the courage to try again another night, or go and see for yourself what's happening. Whatever it is, it certainly won’t be as boring as sitting at home all dressed up with nowhere to go.
