Parker (Face-Off 1)

“Keep that up, babe. Don’t stop talking.” She stops speaking because phone sex is clearly not her thing, so I need to take the lead here. “Did you like it when I fucked your pussy?”

She giggles to hide her embarrassment. “Maybe.”

“Maybe, my ass. You loved it. How many times did I make you come?”

“A few,” she says without hesitation.

“Touch yourself, sweetheart. C’mon, do it for me. I want you to come with me. What are you wearing?”

“My usual,” she says, nonchalant. “Just a tank top, shorts, and a silk robe.”

I start thinking about her long legs, but I need the complete visual. “The thin underwear you wear to bed or gym shorts?”

“Underwear,” she whispers, her voice soft and sensual, and now, I’m hoping she’s finally into this. “They’re pink lace.”

After sleeping in bed with her for a week, I have those little shorts imprinted into my mind. “Take them off, and spread your legs for me, and then I want you to finger your pussy.”

I hear a rustling on the other end and assume she dropped the phone.

Then, she moans, “Alex,” and I know for sure that she listened to me, so I pick up the pace and stroke harder.

“That’s it, Charlotte. Come for me. I want to hear you scream my name, baby.”

A minute passes where her breathing speeds up,

and she whispers my name. She’s there, so close, and so am I. We finish almost at the same time, out of breath and unable to function, taking a few seconds to compose ourselves.

“I wasn’t expecting that,” she mutters. “How do you keep talking me into things I never did before I met you?”

Cleaning myself up with my towel, I sit up and check the clock on the nightstand. “In case you haven’t noticed, you have the same effect on me. And I’m on the road a lot, so you’ll have to get used to phone or Skype sex.”

“That’s a big fat no to the Skype sex.”

“But you didn’t say no to phone sex,” I say, feeling victorious.

I never know when Charlotte is going to pull back from me and take this all away. Every time I get her to open up, our relationship finally developing, she takes a step back, as if she can’t handle the thought of us being together.

“Alex, I have to take a shower and make a few phone calls before the office in Los Angeles closes, so I’m going to have to hang up now. Good luck tomorrow. Try to get some sleep tonight. Are you staying in and ordering room service again?”

“No, I’m meeting Kane and Donovan in an hour for dinner. There’s a steak house downstairs that’s supposed to be as good as Bobby Flay.”

I stand and then walk toward the bathroom with the towel in my hand. I throw it on the floor, so I don’t end up using it again on accident. Then, I turn on the shower.

“That sounds nice.”

There’s a shuffle on the other end that sounds like papers and a slight pause before she finishes, “I probably won’t talk to you until before or after your game tomorrow, depending on my schedule. As of right now, I’d say before is more likely, but who knows what will happen in the next twelve hours? All right, well, behave yourself. Have a good night.”

She doesn’t go into detail, but I know exactly what she means. No drinking, no women, eat right, and get to bed on time. Blah, blah, blah. I know the drill. If anyone else were telling me what to do, I’d tell them to fuck off, but coming from Charlotte, it’s like my dad giving me an order and not following, which never would’ve happened. I respect the shit out of this woman.

“Sweet dreams, babe. Call me if you need me to help you get back to sleep later.” I know she won’t because she considers that a huge imposition and a disruption I don’t need before a big game.

I wouldn’t mind if she woke me up at two a.m. for me to talk to her until she fell back to sleep. She says the dreams feel so real that, when she opens her eyes, she imagines that she’s still the little girl lying between her parents freezing cold bodies.

I blame myself for her night terrors. They didn’t start up again until I moved into her apartment, which is why it’s so important that I keep my shit together and do everything she instructs. She saw her father in me the night she yanked me out of my apartment, and she was worried sick. I can’t let her down.

“I will. Good night, Alex.”

“Night, Charlotte,” I say before clicking the End call button and setting my phone down on the vanity in the bathroom.