“Ivy, stop. I don’t like it. I don’t agree with it. But it’s happening. There’s nothing we can do about it now. My only consolation is that I know that Cassidy’s memory is in good hands if you’re the one writing the script. I know you will honor her story and tell it the way it needs to be told. If you fight Will on anything, I want you to maintain Cassidy’s integrity in how she is portrayed. Please don’t let them tarnish her image.” I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from crying. I never expected things to unfold like this. I feel like someone just whacked me over the head with a two-by-four. Man, I need to sit down.

“Eric, I promise you that I’ll do whatever it takes.” The conviction in her voice is the only thing that’s sustaining me as I collapse onto the couch. I can’t take this out on her. She got caught in a bad situation. I love Ivy with all my heart, but sometimes she makes life so difficult. I thought with her I’d have a fresh start, but she keeps bringing me back to Cassidy. It’s like there are three people in this relationship instead of two. I have to try and get things back on track. I can’t end this call on such a sour note. I don’t want Ivy to fall asleep, thinking I’m angry with her. Despite it all, she needs to know I still love her no matter what.

“I wish this call had gone differently. I didn’t even get a chance to ask you what you’re wearing.” All I want to do is flirt with my sexy girlfriend and forget about everything else. We’ll deal with it in the morning. Now I want to put Ivy to bed—the right way.

“I’m in one of your shirts, of course…and I stole a pair of your boxers from your drawer before I left.” I can hear the smile in her voice. I grip the armrest of the couch, instantly hard. I know deep down we’re both still upset, but right now she’s giving me exactly what I crave.

“Your sweet pussy is resting right where I’m usually throbbing for you.” I shift my weight against the cushion, already straining against the pair I’m wearing now.

She gasps, breathing heavily. I can hear her rustling the sheet.

“Ivy, are you touching yourself?” I ask, sitting up straight.

“Yes,” she whispers, moaning, the frame of the bed creaking in the background.

“Tell me exactly what you’re doing,” I order her as I unzip my jeans.

“I’m straddling the side of the mattress. One leg is touching the floor and the other is bent on the bed. I’m digging my fingernails into the footboard, holding on for all its worth.” She’s panting, and I have a good idea what she’s up to. I caught her doing this once before on our bed, but she didn’t know I was watching her or I’m sure she would’ve stopped. Now she’s letting me in, sharing all of her dirty little secrets.

“Are you rubbing yourself over the edge of the mattress?” I ask, finally freeing myself from the confines of my jeans.

“Yes…” she replies, out of breath. “My shirt is off. All I have on are your boxers. My hair is tickling my swollen breasts, and I’m sliding myself over the edge again and again, gripping it with my thighs.”

“Hump it, baby, hump it.” I start to vigorously stroke my cock, trying to catch up to her.

“Uh, it’s not enough. I’m going to have to use my fingers. Hold on, your boxers are so snug.” The bed continues to squeak as she rides it. She’s trying to find her G-spot. I know how she likes a little pressure above her clit. She always goes crazy when I hit it just right.

“Keep…going.” I’m as breathless as she is now, and I jerk my hand up and down my dick, squeezing it harder.

“Almost…there,” she cries as the shaking of the bed increases. “I have my fingers pressed…firmly against me…the panel of your boxers holding them in place…as I work my hips…over the mattress…gripping it tighter…and tighter.”

“I’m right there with you, baby. You’re working me over just listening to you.” I sink lower on the couch. I forgot to shut the blinds before I started this and the glow from the fireplace has me perfectly illuminated. All I need is for someone to walk across my property and catch me jerking off. I’m in the middle of nowhere, but still.

“Oh God, Eric!” she yells, coming undone.

“I love hearing you come,” I groan against the phone, pressing it between my cheek and my shoulder. “It’s so fucking hot.”

“Are you close?” she asks, repositioning herself on the bed. “I just kicked off your boxers and I’m lying spread-eagle on the bed…buck naked. My arms are outstretched with my hands on the headboard and my legs are as far apart as they will go. I’m wide open for you.”

“Damn it, Ivy!” I shout as I explode in my hand.

She laughs into the phone as I lean my head back against the couch, desperately trying to get some air into my lungs.

“That was just what I needed,” she whispers, spent and satisfied.

“Me too.” I stare blankly at the firelight dancing across the ceiling.

“I don’t want to hang up,” she confesses.

“Neither do I. I could do this all night long.” Just as I say that, the clock on the wall strikes one, bringing me back to reality. “But you need your rest. You’re in for a long couple of days.”

“I’m getting a new phone first thing in the morning. I’ll call you as soon as it’s up and running. Eric, I don’t want to lose contact with you again, not even for a second,” she moans, and I can hear her pulling the sheet over her body.

“Ivy, I love you so much.” I run my hand down my face, sad that my stubble is already starting to grow back.

“I love you too, Eric. Ever so much,” she says before kissing the mouthpiece of the hotel room phone.

“Sweet dreams,” I murmur, looking at her picture on the mantle.

“Thanks to you,” she replies softly before hanging up.

When I hear the click of her disconnecting from me, I hit the end button on my phone, tossing it aside. The ache I feel for her is never ending. What we just did alleviated it somewhat, but I know it won’t be completely soothed until she’s back in my arms.

Ivy

I wake to a sharp knock on the door.

I blink groggily, reaching for Eric. I go to nudge him, but he’s not here. Damn it. That’s right, I’m in L.A. I shiver under the thin sheet, suddenly feeling chilled. I’m used to having the warmth of Eric’s arms wrapped around me. I don’t like waking up alone in a strange bed. A pang stabs my heart. All I want to do is curl up and go back to sleep.

The knocking continues, this time accompanied by Will’s voice.

“Ivy, c’mon. It’s seven o’clock. Let’s go.” Saying that he’s impatient would be an understatement. He’s not going to stop. I might as well get up and face him.

I reluctantly pull myself out of bed and shuffle toward the door. So far, my stomach isn’t on a rampage. Maybe I won’t have to start the day headfirst in a toilet bowl. But why is it so frigid in here? I need to turn down the A.C. or something. I rub my arms, trying to dispel the goose bumps. I have my hand on the door handle, ready to open it when I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, nipples standing at attention. Jeez, no wonder I’m cold. I don’t have a stitch of clothing on. My face heats up when I remember why.

Having phone sex with Eric was simply incredible. It makes me want to close my eyes and relive what it was like to have him groaning in my ear thousands of miles away. How he made me come with just his voice was pretty amazing. He caught me masturbating that way once before. At the time, I knew he was spying on me because I heard him breathing heavily just outside our bedroom door. Thinking back, I could readily imagine the heat of his eyes on my back, watching me. I wanted to turn around and take him then, but this was so much better. It was intense combining the two experiences in my mind. Last night I was screaming his name within minutes, even if I had to help myself along. Getting him to admit his voyeurism will give us a lot to experiment with when I get home.