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“I love it,” the words escaped Sondra’s lips like an impassioned exclamation of pain. “I fucking love being watched – and I think this beautiful man of my imagination knows it because he tells me to reach down between my parted thighs and touch myself.”
“Do you obey him?”
“Willingly,” Sondra said. She sounded breathless, as though she had been running. I heard her gasp softly, and then I had a sudden unbidden image of Cecily’s face contorted in a spasm of pleasure, her eyes wrenched tightly shut, her mouth open in a silent moan of ecstasy.
“And do you come?”
“Yes!” the caller groaned. “I can’t help myself. My fingers fly between my legs and I can feel the heat in me rising. I glance up at my fantasy man and his face is twisted into a sly grin of satisfaction. That’s what sends me over the edge, Jericho – the look on my man’s face. Suddenly I am arching my back off the bed and writhing as my orgasm unleashes itself.” Sondra’s voice faltered and then broke like a wave being dashed upon rocks. I could hear the hiss and rasp of her breath, and a new image flashed before my eyes – a vision this time of April, the creamy pale flesh of her body undulating on a bed of silk sheets, her flaming red hair fanned out across the pillow and the press of her heels deep into the mattress as her body began to tense in orgasm.
As quickly as it arrived, the erotic image flashed from my mind. I could hear ragged breathing on the other end of the phone – and then sudden silence.
“Sondra?”
Nothing.
“Sondra, are you still on the line?” I frowned, listening carefully. I heard nothing but dead air.
I glanced up and saw Cecily standing with her face pressed close to the glass window of the producer’s booth. She had put down the phone and was miming for me to fill in extra time by pinching the fingers of her hands close together and then drawing them apart.
I nodded. “Well listeners,” I glanced furtively at the big clock on the wall, “we’re almost out of time for our first night together. I’ve got to say it was a lot of fun –” I paused for just an instant as April suddenly came scurrying back in through the open studio door. Her hair was awry, and there were hectic splotches of high color on her cheeks. She threw her handbag down on the floor and reached out over the desk to swing the boom arm of her microphone close to her mouth.
“And I am sure every single lady in Boston tonight enjoyed your company too, Jericho!” she said gaily. She flashed sparkling green eyes at me, and her lips curled into a smile like satisfaction. “Lovers and lonely hearts, this is your girl April, saying goodnight, and sleep tight… if you can.”
April stabbed a finger at the keyboard and I heard the sound of a commercial for a local finance company fill the headphones. April drew a delicate, painted fingernail slowly across her throat in the ‘cut-out’ gesture, and I wrenched the headphones off my head and slumped back in the chair, utterly exhausted and vaguely disturbed.
And suspicious…
“Sorry!” April breathed. She was flustered. She waved her hand apologetically and then combed her fingers hurriedly through her hair. “I was a bit longer in the ladies’ room than I thought.”
I narrowed my eyes for an instant, and then shrugged. “It’s okay,” I said with offhanded coolness. “I managed.”
Chapter 4.
I woke to the sound of my cell phone ringing insistently. I pried one eye open. I was lying fully clothed across the bed. There was a wedge of bright sunlight creeping across the threadbare carpet, angling through a chink in the curtains. I reached for the phone and grunted.
“I don’t know who you are,” I said thickly, “but piss off.”
I threw the phone down and rolled over.
I could hear the muffled sounds of footsteps in the stairwell beyond my tiny apartment, and somewhere through the paper-thin walls a baby was crying.
The phone rang again.
Before I could swear, the bright but urgent voice of a young woman started talking. “Jericho, it’s Cindy, Ms. Collett’s assistant from the radio station. Ms. Collett would like to see you in her office as soon as possible.”
I sat up with a groan. Cindy?
Suddenly I remembered the nervous young woman. I squeezed at my temples and then scraped my fingers through my hair.
“What time is it?”
“After nine,” young Cindy said earnestly, and somehow made the words sound like an accusation.
I took a deep weary sigh of breath and swung my legs off the bed. “Okay,” I said. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
I dropped the phone and stumbled down the hall. My head felt stuffed with the cotton wool of fatigue so that I swayed on my feet in the shower.
When I reached the ground floor of the downtown building, a security guard met me in the foyer. He eyed me suspiciously. It was a different man from the old guy who had let me into the building the previous night. He hooked his thumbs into the bulky equipment belt around his waist and ran narrowed eyes over me.
“You in the right place, fella?” he asked, with a wary edge to the genial tone.
I pointed up at the ceiling. “Radio station,” I said.
The guy nodded. He went to his desk to make a brief muttered call and came back more relaxed. He followed me to the elevator.
“Have a nice day,” his mouth tugged into the shadow of a smile.
“Not bloody likely,” I said and thumbed the button for the eighth floor.
My body craved sleep. I caught my reflection in the polished steel wall of the elevator and tried to flatten the unruly curls of dark hair. My eyes were inflamed and red-raw. I rubbed my hand across my chin and felt the electric crackle of unshaven stu
bble.
The elevator stopped. A bell chimed. I took a deep breath and then stepped out into the reception area of the radio station, scowling darkly with an expression like thunder.
Chapter 5.
“I listened to your show last night,” Nancy Collett reclined back in her chair and steepled her fingers like an evil villain in deep contemplation. “I thought you handled yourself rather well – considering it was your first time on the air.”
“Thanks,” I muttered with a surly grunt. “You could have told me that over the phone – when I had woken up.”
The expression on Nancy’s face froze – a fixed smile wrung free of humor. She narrowed her eyes a little and sat upright.
“It’s Tuesday morning,” Nancy said suddenly, and her voice snapped with new authority. “And every Tuesday morning there is an on-air announcers’ meeting, in this office, starting at 8.30am. You’re late, and I don’t appreciate your tone.”
I flinched. “I didn’t know anything about a meeting,” I protested.
Nancy shrugged her shoulders. “Not my problem. You should have been told.”
“Well I wasn’t.”
“Well, quite frankly, I don’t give a shit,” Nancy’s tone leveled and filled with menace. “That’s what happens, and you are expected to attend.” She stood up and planted the palms of her hands flat on the edge of her desk. Her fingers were long and delicate. I saw no rings, just a sparkling diamond bracelet around one thin wrist of smooth flawless skin.
She eased herself back down into the deep chair and let out a long breath. I sat motionless – hovering on the edge of storming out of the office.
I did nothing.
Nancy said nothing.
We stared across the space at each other like two gunslingers, each one bristling, waiting for the other to draw, and for long tense moments the silence drew out.
