“Kitty Kat,” I rasp, staring into her eyes. “I know I said it earlier, but I need you. Let me come over. Fuck, I need your sweet pussy.”
She blinks, then grins. “Here’s my address. Hurry.”
Chapter 10
Kat
I sit back, my still-damp thighs trembling, whether in fear of what the fuck I just did or in anticipation of what the fuck is about to happen, I’m not sure.
Oh, my God, I told him yes. Derrick “The Love Whisperer” King, the sexiest man on radio and the sexiest man I’ve ever laid eyes on, is on his way to my apartment right now.
What am I doing?
I need to . . . something. When I told him my address, he said it would take him fewer than twenty minutes to get here. He told me not to get dressed, to stay just like I am, but sitting here is killing me.
I know. I’ll call Elise. Probably a good idea for someone to know that I have a stranger coming to my house anyway, but she’ll tell me if this is crazy or not because it feels crazy. Making sure I’ve turned off my camera, I dial her number, running my fingers through my hair as it rings.
“Kat,” she greets me, not surprised at all that I’m calling her this late at night. “What’s shaking, baby?”
“Elise, this is urgent. I need your advice.”
Elise’s voice immediately sobers, and I can hear her sit up. She’s probably been binge-watching TV again. “What’s wrong? Need something?”
I run my fingers through my hair again and decide that staying ready for Derrick doesn’t mean I can’t brush my hair and teeth. I head toward my bathroom, talking all the while. “Okay, so I’ll try to make this long story really short because time is of the essence here. You know the radio guy, Derrick King?”
Elise chuckles. She was the one who turned me on to his show to begin with. “Oh yeah, the Love Whisperer. Let’s get it oooonnnnnn.”
She says it with the full effect of Marvin Gaye singing the ultimate sex song, but I’m not in the mood to laugh. “Yes, him. So I called in a couple of weeks ago about Kevin.”
“You did what?” she says, shocked. “I know it’s hard, Kat, but you have to let him go. Kevin is a total douchewaffle and you deserve so much better. I can fix you up with someone if you want. Maybe we could even double-date?”
I roll my eyes, loving this girl, but sometimes, she needs to be quiet and let me finish. If not, she’s going to snowball the whole time Derrick’s driving and I won’t get any advice. “Elise. Stop talking for a second and lemme finish. This isn’t about Kevin. It’s about Derrick.”
Elise stops mid-word when she realizes what I just said, and when she speaks again, her voice is rapt with attention. “Sorry. Continue.”
“So I called, and he told me to dump Kevin and then told me to call him back personally because he was interested in how it turned out.”
“I didn’t know he did that,” Elise says, surprised. “That’s surprisingly nice for a radio semi-celebrity.”
I find my hairbrush and start running it through my hair, smoothing out the tangles. “He doesn’t do that. He did that . . . with me.”
Elise hums knowingly, already deciding she knows where this is going now. “We-he-hell, now, you just made my night interesting.”
Great, I made her night interesting. Meanwhile, my previously semi-behaving waves are now a knot of tangles where I thrashed my head against the couch. Definitely some freshly-fucked hair going on here. I grab my spritzer bottle and lightly spray the back, detangling the mess gently so it doesn’t frizz out like an electrified poodle. “So I called him back, and we got to talking, texting, and other stuff.”
“Oh, and what ‘other stuff’ is my oh-so-shy but oh-so-beautiful friend talking about?” She knows what I mean, and I don’t know if I can say it out loud, but I need advice, so I try to charge ahead like this is normal, no big deal for me.
“Fine, we’ve been having phone sex, texting dirty innuendos, and tonight . . . tonight, we had sex on FaceTime.”
Elise is clapping, cheering in my ear like I just won an Olympic medal or something. “That’s awesome, Kat! Welcome to the 21st century. Everyone does this, you know. How was it?”
I’m blushing. Apparently, I’m behind the times if this is supposedly common. Maybe I’m reading too much into it? At least my damn hair is starting to look decent again.
“Well, it’s been great, really great. But tonight was different. It was . . . wow. I don’t even know what to say, but that’s why I’m calling. I’ve never, ever come so fucking hard, and at the end . . . it was like epic or something, and now he’s coming over! What do I do?”