Page 40 of 13 Rules For Fantastic Phone Sex

I’ve never felt connected like I do with her. Like I do after our shared intimacy.

“I kind of loved it, actually,” she says. Sure doesn’t sound like it. She’s trepidatious, as though she’s barefoot and we’ve become a field of broken glass that I don’t know how to sweep up.

“Are you sure, sweetheart? You’ve sounded off-balance ever since we had that conversation. You’ve asked me several times about being okay, yet you’re the one who doesn’t seem comfortable. You’re entitled to whatever you’re feeling. I thought if one of us was an ideal candidate to feel awkward after, I would’ve placed a hefty bet on me.”

“That’s fair,” she says in such a small voice that it’s like my heart is being smashed between an anvil and a hammer.

Please don’t sniff, sweetheart. I can’t take it if you cry. I ask another way, gentle and coaxing, “Having regrets?”

“Oh, no. No, no regrets, nothing like that. I loved it. Truly.” A tiny sniff.

No. No, not tears. No, no, no. I cannot cope with Kait tears. I rub at my chest, the same spot she has me tap when she’s trying to get me to settle into sleep.

“Then what is it?”

She hems and haws, makes some feeble attempts at starting a sentence, and really says nothing but tells me everything I need to know. She’s never been this way with me before.

“Cone of candor, Kait. Talk to me, sweetheart.” My no-nonsense voice comes out, but at the last second, I gentle it, trying to sound warm and encouraging.

“You have to know that you’re special to me,” she says. “I adore you.”

And I adore you, sweet Kait, but the words stay inside me.

“I have phone sex for a living. It’s my job, right? It’s what I do, fifty or more hours a week.”

“Right.” I keep my tone smooth, no discernible reaction, just active listening. Not thinking about all of the other men and waiting in line for her—him—to finish or anything like that because I’m not jealous or territorial. Not me.

She continues. “The truth is rarely pure and never simple.” She pauses, a little sound of disbelief before she speaks again. “This may come as a surprise to you, but I’ve never had phone sex before the other night, not real phone sex. Not the kind where I was turned on and into it, you know, physically. It’s never been me having phone sex before. It was work… my persona, not me, well, me, but, you know. Fuck. I’m not explaining this well at all.”

Oh. Oh.

She continues, trying to get the right words together. “I was totally into everything we were saying and you were doing, and it was intense, and I loved it, and it wasn’t work for me, not at all, you know… anyway. I want you to know that you’re special. That you’re the only one who’s ever gotten that? I don’t get turned on doing my job—it’s no more exciting to me than writing a legal document is for you because it’s never personal… until it was. Is. With you.”

“Well. Uhm, yes, I see how that could be unsettling, to have it suddenly feel very personal after years of it not being personal. Intimate even.”

This is unexpected.

It never occurred to me she’d be so hesitant and unsure in the days following. I have to reassure her. “If you don’t want it to happen again, I understand. I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t be a bit sad, but I respect you and whatever decision you make in that regard. We’ve never done anything like this before. It’s okay if we don’t again.”

She’s silent for a moment. “I’ve loved every minute we’ve talked. I want to take care of you. All of you. I can’t think straight for wanting it again.”

And now I’m nail driving hard.

“What I hear you saying is it was a new experience, so it feels different, but you want to have phone sex with me? Did I get that right, Kait? I don’t want to put words in your mouth.” See Henry actively listen. See Henry repeat the words back to the speaker in a slightly different arrangement. See Henry pretend his brain still works when his dick is like granite.

“Do you really need me to clarify, or would you prefer to cut straight to coming for me again?” I’m glad she can’t see my grin. I did poke the bear a bit. Go me.

“I, ermmm, yes.”

“Ringing endorsement, Henry. Perhaps you should let me know when you’re, ahem, up for it.”

“I’m definitely up for it.” I’m so up for it I’m going to bust my buttons. But I’m also fully aware she’s deflecting. I’ll let her have her way. For now.

She makes a tiny noise that sounds vaguely pleased and speaks again. “Have you ever had sex in your amazing chair, Henry?” She has no qualms talking about sex openly every other day of the year. I find it liberating. It makes me feel like I can speak freely because she never judges me.

“No. You?”

“No, absolutely not.” Just two giant dorks in our virgin special chairs. “It’s velvet, Henry. Velvet.”