Chapter 88: Dirty Calls

Between Naomi driving that car most of the time now, switching vehicles and everything else currently occupying his brain, he had completely forgotten to take it out.

Dorian leaned back against the seat and kept his eyes on the road ahead. If he was being tailed, the Audi would come back. He’d give it a few minutes. His phone pinged.

It was Naomi. He opened it.

"Ah fuck me!"

She was wearing a black lace robe. If wearing was even the correct word for something that transparent.

The delicate floral lace skimmed over her body, tied loosely around her waist with a satin sash. There was nothing underneath it, which meant the picture left very little work for his imagination.

He could see the fullness of her breasts beneath the lace, the sharp outline of her nipples and enough bare skin to make his mouth water.

Dorian stared at the photograph. An emoji was not going to cover this. There was no little yellow face capable of properly communicating what she had just done to him.

So he called her. Naomi picked up on the first ring.

"Trouble?"

Her soft laugh came through the phone.

"I’m working."

"Yes. A gift for my hardworking husband."

"Is your gift to drive me crazy?"

"I’m sorry..." she said, sounding absolutely nothing like a woman who was sorry. "I just can’t wait to say thank you properly."

Apparently Gertrude 2.0 had been discovered.

Dorian checked his mirrors again while listening to her breathe softly on the other end. "You want to touch yourself while you wait, keep it all wet and ready for me?"

"I’d rather you do it. I like it when you do it."

Dorian closed his eyes briefly. This woman was going to be the end of him. He was sitting on the side of a street, possibly being followed by someone with questionable intentions, and somehow Naomi Bennett Heathcliffe had still managed to become the most dangerous thing happening to him.

"I’m going to need you to help me do it this time. Why don’t you unfasten the robe for me, uhn?"

"Now?"

"Yes, now, T. Squeeze those gorgeous breasts for me just like I do it."

"Hmmmm..." Naomi hummed softly. "Where are you?" she asked.

"In my car. Just waiting on someone." He glanced through the windshield again, checking the street. "Go on, babe. You doing it?"

"Yes."

"How are those nipples coming?"

"Responding." She let out a tiny breath. "I like your voice. It’s so deep, and rich, and sexy."

Dorian gave a low laugh. "And I like you."

Possibly more than was sensible, but that was a thought for another day.

"Spread your thighs for me, baby girl. You’re going to need both hands, so put your phone on speaker. I want to hear your moans."

"It’s on speaker..."

"Good girl. Put your finger in your mouth and think about my cock. You love my cock, don’t you?"

"Oh, yes..." Naomi answered without even pretending to have shame. "It’s perfect. I’d love to sit on you all day long."

"You’re fucking trouble."

She giggled.

"Remember when I ate your pussy last weekend and you couldn’t stop screaming?"

"I’ll never forget."

"Think about that, baby." His own hand dropped toward his pants, pressing against the erection that had become increasingly difficult to ignore.

Nothing about this conversation was helping.

"I’m so hard right now," he muttered. "Which is incredibly inconvenient because I have a meeting in a bit."

"I’ll make it up to you."

"You never did tell me your favorite position," he said. "I’d like to do that one of these days."

"We have. In Vegas. You had me on my side. You were inside me from behind. Then you pulled me halfway to you and had my tit in your mouth..." Naomi sighed dreamily. "It was... glorious."

"I didn’t think you remembered," Dorian said.

Naomi gave a breathy little laugh on the other end of the line. "I couldn’t forget."

That pleased him far more than it should have.

"I want to feel how wet you are," he said, his voice dropping. "Would you check for me? Just one finger. Don’t get greedy."

There was a soft rustle on her end. Then Naomi exhaled.

"Adequate. It’s not the same without you," she moaned.

"I promise I will be home before midnight."

Naomi made another soft sound.

"Be a good little girl and spread your thighs for me," he murmured. "Slide that finger in. I can’t wait to get my cock inside you... shit..." He had to stop touching himself before this became a much bigger problem.

"Tease me," Naomi whispered. "Until I’m begging for it."

Dorian swallowed. "I won’t survive that long, love. I won’t."

Complete silence followed.

Dorian frowned. The change was so immediate that it took him a second to understand something had happened. "Trouble?" He sat up slightly. "Naomi?"

"I’m... uh... I’m here." Her voice sounded different now. "I just..." She paused. "We’ll finish this when you get home."

"What the—"

The call ended.

Dorian slowly pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at the screen. "What just happened?" He genuinely had no idea.

Had she just frozen him out? Was that what that was? His eyes narrowed as he tried to replay the conversation.

Had he said something wrong? He tried to remember his words, but his brain had been operating almost entirely on instinct by that point. He hadn’t exactly been drafting a closing argument. He had simply been saying whatever came to mind.

The tangent of the conversation blurred together.

Dorian sighed. Maybe he should text her. He opened their messages.

No.

If she wanted to explain, she would. Besides, he was supposed to be paying attention to an entirely different problem.

Dorian looked through the windshield again. The street was still empty. Maybe he really had imagined the whole thing. He slipped his phone onto the passenger seat and reached toward the ignition.

Then he stopped. Farther down the road, low headlights appeared again.

Okay, that was it. Dorian grabbed his phone, sent his live location to Adrian and switched on the dash cam.

His thumb hovered over 911. Maybe he was being paranoid. He sincerely hoped he was being paranoid.

But after years of representing criminals, Dorian had learned that there were much worse things a man could be than unnecessarily cautious. Dead, for example, ranked fairly high on the list.

He pushed the car door open and stepped out. If someone was following him, there was no point pretending he hadn’t noticed anymore. Dorian stood beside the Mercedes, making himself clearly visible beneath the streetlights. His phone remained in his hand, ready to make the call if the situation changed.

The headlights drew closer. He narrowed his eyes, trying to see through the windshield. The Audi continued toward him without slowing.

Dorian shifted slightly, watching carefully as it approached. The car rolled past him. He turned, following it with his eyes until the taillights disappeared farther down the street. "Son of a bitch."