Sinful Distraction: An Opposites Attract Romance (Temperance Falls: Selling Sin Book 3) Read online

  “I’m always here for you,” I said, easing up on my phonesex voice. The one I used to wind her up. The one my boss called “the panty-melter” voice. Kate knew it as the voice of Banner, the man she called when she needed a release. The man she paid weekly to have phone sex with her.

  “I need your words,” she whispered, sounding altogether aroused. “I just want to let go. I want to come with you tonight. I need it.”

  I tightened my grip on my cock, trying not to blow right then. “Oh, Kitten. You know I can give you that. I’d give you anything, sweet girl. So tell me…how quick can you be naked and sprawled out on your bed for me? I’ve got all the time in the world for you, and I think I need to pay some close, personal attention to your pretty pussy tonight.”

  Banner’s words settled over me, the smooth cadence of his voice something my body had begun to recognize months ago. My limbs went loose and languid, my nipples tightening, even my pussy grew warm. Just from his voice. Whenever I heard that decadent sound, it meant release was imminent. It meant my time as Mayor Briscoe was put on hold. Whatever deals were in the pipeline, whatever political bullshit I had to manage, whatever jackass councilman currently trying to get in my way were all shoved aside. My time as just Kate—or Kitten to Banner—was about to start.

  There were never any pretenses between us. I didn’t have to put on a show, didn’t have to wear my mask—the mask every professional woman had to wear. The one that said I got here by working hard, and I will take zero percent of your shit. But the part I loved the most was that I could let go of all that control, all that power I had to cling to day in and day out to do my job well. To prove I could do that job just as well—better—than any man in the same position. I could give up that control over the safety of the phone and not worry what it said about me that I didn’t want to think for a little while. That I liked when Banner told me exactly what to do, exactly how to do it, and for exactly how long.

  “C’mon, baby. Strip for me. I want you naked so I can give you what you need.”

  I nearly melted as his voice came over the line, but I did as he instructed. I always did. “I am…slowly. Just how you like.”

  He groaned, the sound shooting straight to my pussy. This…this was my reward for putting in sixty-plus hours at city hall, these thirty minutes the only ones during my week when I didn’t have to think, and I relished every single one of them. Loved hearing his voice. Craved it on the days we didn’t talk.

  Like today. We never talked on Tuesdays. I almost hadn’t called, worried he wouldn’t be available—or worse, that he wouldn’t take my call at all since it wasn’t the norm. We did Friday evenings at nine like clockwork.

  It’d been like that for nearly a year—since the first day my friend Lara had slipped this number into my hand and told me I needed to do something about all the tension I was carrying. In her words, I needed to get laid, and I needed to get laid hard. Since she knew the men on the island didn’t do it for me—not to mention the fact that the mayor couldn’t exactly get her rocks off in a commitment-free arrangement—she’d suggested the next best thing, a company that provided a service she thought might be a good fit for me.

  “I hear the rustle of your clothes coming off. Fuck, I wish I were there to see the show, watch you strip nice and slow. I’d make you tease me with every inch of your skin while I stroked my cock. No one could ever make me as hard as you do. I’d be so fucking lucky to get even a glimpse of your body.”

  And, Jesus, how could a flesh and blood man compete with that? They couldn’t. Even if the Temperance Falls gossip mill weren’t pumping full time with every little thing each resident did—never mind the mayor—I wasn’t sure I’d want an arrangement, commitment-free or not. Been there, done that. If there was a man out there with enough confidence to handle a powerful woman navigating a demanding career, doing absolutely fine on her own, I hadn’t yet found him. And I was damn tired of looking. Actually, I’d passed damn tired of looking more than a decade ago.

  Thank God I had Banner to call so I could unwind and go to sleep sated and relaxed. After a day like I’d had—one where being a high-powered woman made me a target for every small-dicked asshole hell-bent on making my life shit—it would’ve been nice to come home to a comforting face, to a hard body ready to work away every ounce of stress I had. Would’ve been nice, but not at the expense of myself or the career for which I’d worked my ass off.

  Instead, I had my phone, Banner’s voice, and whatever he guided me to do. It wasn’t perfect, but it worked for me. And it was the most intimate relationship I’d had with a man in, well, ever. What did that say about me?

  “Where’d you go, Kitten?”

  I settled onto my bed, blowing out a breath. “Sorry, I’m here. Just have a lot on my mind.”

  “Is everything okay?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.

  I didn’t know if this was part of the act—part of being Banner instead of whatever he went by in his real life—but if it was, he was a damn good actor. From the very beginning, his reactions had seemed authentic—his arousal, his happiness, his concern, even his anger when I’d mentioned any of the hundreds of piles of bullshit I dealt with on a weekly basis. He was always with me, every step of the way.

  It made me feel like we had more of a connection than two unknown people getting off together over the phone.

  Regardless of that connection—imagined or not—I couldn’t give him details. Couldn’t tell him Nicholson was doing everything in his power to stop me at every turn where Huntley Group was concerned. Couldn’t tell him anything that would give a clue of who I was.

  I brushed a piece of hair away from my face. “It’s just been an exceptionally exhausting day.”

  “So that’s why the Tuesday night love. You couldn’t wait for Friday.”

  Actually, it was a wonder I could wait for Friday every week. If I’d managed it after this shitshow of a week, it would’ve been a damn miracle. “Yeah. Did it mess up your schedule?”

  “You could never mess up anything.”

  I hummed, wanting desperately to believe his words but at the same time knowing with certainty he told all his clients that.

  “Now tell me,” he said, rustling coming over the line. I imagined he was in bed, settled against dark sheets, his large hand wrapped around his even larger cock. Stroking. Teasing. He wasn’t even with me, and he could make me shudder more than half the men I’d been with. “What do you really need from me right now? What is it that I can do to make your shitty day better?”

  Relaxing back into the pillows, I closed my eyes and focused on the image behind my lids. I could never see a clear picture of his face in these daydreams, no matter how hard I tried. His body was ripped, his muscles a force of nature—an image I’d concocted thanks to something he’d mentioned during one of our early calls. The name he went by was an ode to what his friends called him during high school: Hulk. Since Hulk didn’t exactly exude sexiness, he’d settled on Banner, as in Dr. Bruce Banner. He’d said his stature was something that intimidated some people, but not me. If he were in front of me, I’d rub my hands over every inch of him, relishing in his size.

  Strangely, though, that wasn’t even what I focused on during these sessions. It was more the overall feeling of being with him, his voice directly in my ear washing over me, relaxing me… The connection we’d formed was incredibly intimate.

  Trailing a finger between my breasts, I answered his question. “I want you to do the same thing you always do. I need your words so I can stop thinking.”

  “I think you need more than words. I think you need my hands on you.”

  Like his very suggestion held magic, the image of him on a strange bed faded, and suddenly he was in my bedroom, his fingers ghosting over me. “I wish I could have your hands on me.”

  He paused for so long I worried the call had dropped, but then he swore under his breath. “I wish for that too. You have no idea. Now, are you naked for me?”
r />   “Mhmm, I’m on my bed and ready. Unless you want me to get a toy—”

  “Tonight’s about what you need. If you want a toy, I’ll make you believe it’s my cock. If not, we can get more creative. What do you need from me? What part of me will make you wet tonight?”

  Dozens of fantasies flipped through my mind as I tried to settle on one of the many different scenarios we’d acted out over the phone. As much as I wanted his cock, wanted to be filled by him, I knew a dildo would be a poor substitute, and not having him in reality would only make me feel lonelier. “Your mouth. I want your mouth.”

  He groaned, as if the very thought of his lips on me pushed him closer to the edge. “Get that toy you bought, Kitten. The one you said sucks on your clit. That’s what I’d do. Once I licked you all over and got you good and swollen, I’d suck that clit until you were riding my face. I’d want to be under you when you came. Would want to taste every drop. Get the toy, and let’s play.”

  I shuddered out a breath, halfway to coming just from his dirty mouth, and reached into my bedside table for my favorite toy. Resting the phone between my shoulder and my ear, I parted my pussy with a hand, exposing my clit, then turned on the toy to the lowest setting and placed the silicone head directly over my clit. “I’ve got—” A moan poured from my lips, and my eyes fluttered closed when I bumped the speed up a notch, the isolated suction as close to oral as I could get.

  He chuckled, low and deep. “I know you love that one. I figure I’ve got three minutes before that toy gets you off, right? I remember the first time. You came so hard you dropped the phone.”

  I breathed out a laugh, recalling the day he was talking about. I’d had no idea what I’d been in for, but sweet Jesus, it’d been as close as the two of us could ever get to him going down on me. I loved it for that intimacy alone. “I don’t know if I can come that fast tonight. It’s been—” I broke off, a shiver running through my body as the toy did exactly what it promised, working me up just like someone sucking on my clit. “It’s been a long day.”

  “If I were there, I’d get you to come right away to take the edge off. I’d catch you as you walked in the door and push up that little pencil skirt I know you wear to the office. I’d have those panties down and my mouth on you before I even said hello. A good woman deserves a man who’ll treat her like a princess when she needs it. My princess likes to get her clit sucked, doesn’t she? She likes the idea of me sliding my tongue into her pussy, too. Is that what you need right now, baby?”

  “God, yes,” I said on a moan, no longer able to keep my eyes open.

  “I’ve got you. You feel that pressure on your clit? Feel how it’s making you so wet? That’s me. All me. I’d lap up every drop, suckle you until you screamed my name. Spread your legs for me. I need room to work that pussy and make you come. My hands would be on your thighs right now, pushing your knees down to open you wide. Such a pretty view for me. Are you dripping yet? Do you need my fingers?”

  My nipples drew tight, the points nearly painful in their hardness. I was on the precipice, certain a breeze could make me go off. But still, I held out. I drew out the buildup as long as I could, because I knew once I came, our time would be over. I wasn’t ready for that yet. “Yes, I need—please, Banner, I need—”

  “I know what you need. Bump that toy up another level for me. That’s what I’d do—I’d be sucking so hard on you. Are your legs shaking yet? Your thighs always tremble just before you come. That’s when I’d slip three fingers inside you. Not one or two—no, my Kitten’s a greedy girl. She needs three. Needs a good hard thrust inside to fill her up. Don’t you? Slide your fingers inside yourself and pretend they’re mine.”

  Switching my phone to speaker, I set it on my stomach so I could do what he instructed. I slid my fingers down to my pussy, stroking around the toy suctioned onto my clit, before slipping them inside, groaning at how wet I was. I wished it were him doing that, wished it were his fingers filling me up, wished it were his tongue lapping at my clit instead of a toy. But I had his voice. Right then, I had his voice and his words and his commands, and for a short while, I didn’t have to think. Somehow, he knew exactly what I needed.

  “Oh God…”

  “Goddamn, you sound so wet. I can hear you. C’mon, just a little more. I can tell. You’re breathing so hard, and you’re making those little moans. I bet you’re fucking dripping for me. I bet your legs are trembling all over. Fuck your hand. Rock those hips against it. I want to feel you come on my lips now. I want to hear you. Give it to me. Bump that toy up one last time and let go for me.”

  “I’m close—” I moaned, rocking against my hand just like he said, the toy sucking my clit. So close. So close… But I needed him with me. Whether it was real or not, I needed to pretend it was. “I want you to come with me.”

  “Fuck.” He groaned. “Your hand would feel so good on my cock right now. Mmm, it does. I’m fucking my hand just like I’d fuck yours. Wish it was yours, baby. I always wish it was yours.” His breath came in sharp pants, the rhythmic sound of him stroking his cock loud even through the phone. “Damn. I can hear you fucking your hand. All those filthy sucking sounds coming over the line. I love it. You sound ready. I’m so close—I’m going to come all over my hand in a second. Let me hear you first. Come on my tongue. Soak me, Kitten.”

  It was the hitch of his breath that did it as he said Kitten—something he couldn’t fake, no matter how good of an actor he was. I pictured him in my bed, his face buried between my legs, his tongue hard at work on my clit, his fingers thrusting inside me. And his other hand wrapped around his cock, jerking it because he couldn’t wait. Because licking me got him so worked up, he didn’t have a choice but to fist his cock and stroke it as I came.

  And I did.

  Back arched off the bed, fingers buried deep, I came with his name on my lips, my hips shifting as if it were his face I was rocking them against.

  “Christ. You came all over my mouth, didn’t you? Love the taste of your sweetness. Want it, want it so bad—” A string of curses left his lips just before he moaned, long and deep, the sound so sexy it made me ache all over again.

  I shut off my toy as I tried to catch my breath, listening as he did the same. Taking my phone off speaker, I pressed it to my ear once more, waiting for his words.

  “Fuck, Kitten, you get me off so good. I haven’t come that hard since Friday.”

  The last time we talked.

  I smiled, even if what he said wasn’t true. I appreciated the sentiment, nonetheless. “Me too. Thank you for that.”

  “You feeling better now?”

  I blocked out the events of the day, refusing to let them intrude on our time. “I am. I’ll hopefully be able to get some sleep tonight.”

  “Good, I’m glad I could help.” He cleared his throat. “Is this our call for the week, or can I expect you again on Friday?”

  The thought of waiting until the following Friday, of not speaking to him for nearly two weeks, opened up a cavern in my stomach. “I thought we could still do Friday, if that’s okay. My schedule this week is going to be…” Hell. It was going to be hell. “A challenge.”

  “Of course it’s okay. I wouldn’t know what to do if we missed a Friday night.” He sighed deeply, the sound of a man spent and exhausted. “Did you double-check your locks for me?”

  I breathed out a laugh, rolling my eyes. I was forty-two, had lived on my own for two decades. I could handle locking my doors. Still, I couldn’t help the warmth that settled over me when he reminded me of this. And he did—every time we talked. “Yes, they’re all locked.”

  “All right, sweet girl. Try to get some sleep. I’ll talk to you on Friday.”

  “Bye, Banner.”

  “Bye, Kitten.”

  I hung up the phone, an overwhelming sense of loneliness washing over me. The feeling settled in and didn’t leave as I washed up for the evening, as I drank a glass of wine and went over my calendar for tomorrow. It didn’t l
eave as I walked through my huge, empty house, as I triple-checked that the doors and windows were all locked.

  And it certainly didn’t leave as I slipped under the covers on my side of the king-size bed, Banner’s voice in my memory my only companion.

  Friday had always been my favorite day of the week. When I was a kid, it was because I couldn’t wait to get two days away from school. When I grew older, even though I often worked weekends, Friday represented a time to hang out with friends and find the best party we could. For the past year, Friday meant spending half an hour or so with Kate. I might have even skipped out of the fire station like a fucking kid at the thought.

  “Yo, Nash.”

  Damn. I’d been so intent on getting home that I hadn’t noticed Big John rolling up beside me in his pickup. “What’s up?”

  “Me and a couple of guys are headed over to the Beerhive tonight. You should meet us.” John’s light eyes held mine, his Semper Fi baseball cap shading the top half of his face. He was the son of one of my mom’s best friends, so we’d known each other a long time even if we were just getting reacquainted through our jobs as firemen. I’d left the island right after high school to escape—he’d left to join the Marines. Neither of us had been back for all that long.

  We’d never hung out outside of work, though. Of course, I didn’t hang out with a lot of the guys from the firehouse—most were married with kids. With lives. John wasn’t married and didn’t talk about a woman, so everyone else assumed he was single. I wasn’t married and didn’t talk about a woman either, so I assumed nothing. John could have his own Kate somewhere for all I knew.

  “I would, man, but Friday nights are always booked.” I almost left it at that, but I actually would’ve liked hanging out had it been any other day. Might as well build bridges in town. “Rain check, though.”

  John smiled and nodded, gripping the steering wheel. “For any night other than Friday. Got it. See you in two, bro. Make ’em count.”

  With that, he took off, some sort of seventies hard rock screaming through the windows. The man was right. I had forty-eight hours off, and I needed to make the next two days count. Kate tonight, apartment hunting tomorrow. I had work to do.