“Fucking traffic,” I spat.
“Where are you?”
“In the back of a cab. The traffic’s a bitch. I shouldn’t be too much longer. I just couldn’t wait to hear your voice.”
“It’s fine. There’s no rush.” I hadn’t told her about my 8p.m. conference call because I didn’t want her thinking I was fitting her in amongst other things or that there was a time limit to our call. “How was your day?”
“Good, actually. I saw Andrew for lunch and I got a lot done.”
“How are he and Mandy?”
“Good. They want to see you when you come over. I’m going to have dinner with them one night this week.”
“I’m glad you have them.”
“Me too. I left something for you, in the top drawer, where my stuff used to me. Go take a look.”
Anna
“You did? What is it?” I asked.
“Go take a look,” he repeated.
I scrambled out of bed, went over to Ethan’s drawer and pulled it open. The sight of the almost-empty space made my stomach flip. Another reminder that he wasn’t here anymore. But it wasn’t completely empty. There was a small orange box stamped with the now familiar Hermès logo. I grinned, grabbed it and headed back to bed.
“Did you find it?”
“I did. You don’t need to buy me gifts.”
“I want to. I think you’re the only girl ever born who complains about getting gifts.”
“I’m not complaining. I just don’t want you to think you have to.”
“I want to. Do you like it?”
“I’ve not opened it.”
“We should be doing this by video call or something. I want to see you.”
“Three weeks. Where are you now?”
“We’re just pulling in. Open your gift.”
I did. I loved that he’d thought about leaving me something when he was gone. He was good at this boyfriend thing, even if he hadn’t had much practice. It was a beautiful blue enamel bracelet. “God, Ethan, I love it. Thank you.”
“Put it on. I want to imagine you in nothing but a bracelet.”
I grinned at the thought of being his fantasy. And his reality. “It fits beautifully, thank you. I’ll send you a picture.”
The sound of the street echoed more clearly on the other end of the phone. “Where are you?”
“I got out to walk. I’m just at the end of the block.”
“I want to hear more about your day.”
“It was completely uninteresting compared to you in our bed, naked.”
Our bed. He still thought of it as ours.
“Tell me. I want to hear everything as if you were beside me chatting.”
“If I was there and you were naked, I wouldn’t be talking about my day.”
I wondered how many women had flirted with Ethan today, on a day I wasn’t going to be there to wrap my hands around his cock and make sure it was my eyes he was looking into when he came. I had to push the thoughts to one side
“Tell me, what would you be doing?”
“Oh, beautiful, you might be the death of me. But I’d die happy, that’s for sure.”
My whole body heated. The thought of being the one that made him happy? That I could do that to him? It was all I could want. The sounds of the street began to fade.
“If I were there now,” Ethan continued, “I’d lay you on your back on our bed and drink you in for a few minutes. I love your skin, how soft it is, how it tastes. I love the feeling of my fingers on you, in you, all over you.”
There was familiar wetness between my legs at his words. It was if he was worshipping my body.
His voice and the buzz across my skin made his absence more acute. I was aware of everything I didn’t feel. Everything he would be doing to my body if he were here. The almost too-hard press of his thumbs below my hips. The drag of his lips across every inch of my skin. The feel of his hard body under my fingers, my lips, my tongue.
My nipples tightened and grazed the sheets I was wrapped in. I squeezed my thighs together. “I wish you were here with me.”
“Beautiful, there’s nothing I want more, right this second.” On the other end of the phone keys jangled and doors slammed.
“Are you hard?” I asked, almost embarrassed, but not quite. Our relationship had been, until now, so much about the physical stuff between us. It was how we communicated, it was how we were comfortable. We were in new territory here. I got confidence from his desire for me. Now I was blind. I didn’t want to make a fool of myself. I needed to be there with him, to see, to feel for myself.
“Like a fucking stone. Like I said, you just have to exist to make me hard. Having the image of you naked on the other end of the phone makes me like steel. If I were there, would you be ready for me, baby? Tell me how wet you are.”