“Underthings? Somehow I thought you were in
bed.”
“I am.”
“Then why—”
“The tennis instructor?”
“Oh, right, Janie.” Picturing Emily in a
flimsy tank and panties was a lot more interesting. Her throat was suddenly dry
and she wished for some more port. “So, after one particularly hot, sweaty
afternoon, I came up with some excuse to call her after I’d gotten home and showered.
Somehow, I managed to mention I’d just done that.”
“And?”
“She said something about it being too hot to
wear clothes and maybe I mentioned that I wasn’t, and you know…descriptions
were involved.”
Emily’s voice caught. “I can imagine that
might have been…interesting.”
Derian skimmed her fingertips down her
stomach. The memory of Janie and what had been so exciting at the time was now
merely an amusing memory. Emily’s voice, though, filled her with slow,
simmering pleasure. “If you’d like, I could fill you in on what I’m—”
“I’ve seen you, remember?”
“Oh.” Derian chuckled. “In the hall. I’d
forgotten.”
“I haven’t.”
The breath punched from Derian’s chest and
the heat ratcheted up a couple hundred degrees. “Emily. This could get
serious.”
“We’re not going to have phone sex,” Emily
murmured.
“Why not?” Derian enjoyed playing, and Emily
was a great partner. The low, speculative note in Emily’s voice intrigued her.
But she intended to be touching her, watching her, devouring her, the first
time Emily came with her.
“As much as I find the idea interesting,”
Emily said, “I’m afraid I might miss too much.”
“We wouldn’t want that.” Derian pressed her
hand more firmly against her stomach, enjoying the low steep of arousal in her
belly. Emily kept her on edge, every cell incredibly alive. “I promise to be
sure you don’t miss…anything.”
“Oh, I’m not worrying.”
Derian sighed. “I should let you get some
sleep.”
“You must be tired too.”
“I am, and I think I’m going to be able to
sleep tonight.”
“Good. Thanks for calling.”
“I’m glad you didn’t mind. I wasn’t ready to
let you go.”
“I didn’t mind. Good night, Derian.”
“Good night, Emily.” Derian set the phone
aside and closed her eyes. The lingering arousal, along with the memory of
Emily’s voice, shadowed her into sleep.
*
Derian emerged from the ICU after her ten
thirty visit the next morning to find Emily waiting in the hall. She was
dressed for work, in dark green pants, brown boots, and a slightly lighter
brown soft wool sweater. Derian couldn’t help conjure an image of pale peach
panties, lacy in all the right places. “Hi, I was…ah…about to call you.”
“I knew you’d be here,” Emily said. “Did you
get any sleep at all?”