Read Online Wilde Thing by Janelle Denison - Free Book Online

so warm in here, it’s almost stifling. But at least it’s private.” And thank goodness for that, considering all the moaning, groaning, and heavy breathing she’d had to feign.
    “Have you been able to talk to any of the other operators?”
    “Only briefly before I started my shift and during my ten-minute break.” Kicking off her sandals, she propped her feet up on the table and wiggled her toes in front of the small handheld fan she’d set on the table to stir up the air in the room. Another thirty-five minutes of idle chitchat with Steve, and her shift was over, she thought gratefully. “Roxanne wasn’t here tonight, but I introduced myself to a few other girls.”
    “That’s a good start.” Approval resonated in his tone. “Any mention of Valerie yet?”
    “No, and there hasn’t been an opportune time to bring her up, either.” She sighed, hoping it wouldn’t take more than a few evenings for her coworkers to warm up enough to give her the answers she sought, or for her employer to extend an invitation to The Ultimate Fantasy private parties.
    “Don’t be so hard on yourself. It’s only your first night,” he said, as if reading her mind. “So, how has it been with the callers?” His question was direct and undeniably curious.
    She bit her lower lip, undecided whether or not she wanted to share the sordid details with a man who was the epitome of sexuality. A gorgeous, virile man who was her personal fantasy in every way. “You want the truth?”
    “Sweetheart,” he drawled smoothly, “I always want the truth.”
    And no faking anything.
He’d made that abundantly clear, too. The man was a stickler for honesty and took a person’s integrity very seriously. They were qualities she herself appreciated in return.
    Still, she fudged with her response, which wasn’t a lie at all. “Well, let me put it this way, being a phone sex operator is definitely not my cuppa tea.”
    “Maybe it all depends on getting the right caller on the phone,” he suggested, a mischievous note lacing his low, mellow baritone.
    A caller like me,
his voice implied. She silently admitted that he had a very valid point.
    “What have your clients requested tonight?” he persisted.
    Obviously, he saw through her attempt to evade the issue with her simple and pat comment, and he wasn’t about to let her off so easily. The rogue. “You don’t want to know the nitty-gritty details.”
    “Sure I do,” he murmured huskily, and she shivered at his assertive and very insistent behavior.
    The man was ruthless and shameless, and she was smart enough to know he wouldn’t let the subject die until he got whatever he wanted from her. And in this case, he wanted her to spill all the provocative details of her new job.
    “You promise to still respect me after I tell you the kind of fantasies I fulfilled for other men?”
    He chuckled, low and deep, though the sound was oddly strained. “Of course I will.”
    Exhaling a slow breath, she recalled the fairly tame and normal fantasies she’d performed, because the others were too crude, perverted, and bizarre for her to repeat out loud. “I had a few straightforward calls from men who were just interested in a quick verbal exchange simulating a common sex act. A few requested blow jobs, and one caller asked me to pretend I was a virgin, which was …
different,
since it’s been a long while since I’ve been one,” she said wryly, and shook her head. “Some callers were downright lewd, and I used words, descriptions, and phrases that would make my parents roll over in their graves.”
    “I’m sure they forgive you,” he said, a definite hint of humor in his voice.
    She smiled, and relaxed enough to enjoy their amusingconversation. “Another caller told me that he wanted me to wear something sexy, then do a striptease for him over the phone.”
    “And what did you wear for him?”
    “A slinky, barely-there black dress and high heels. And beneath it, black lace