Read Online Meant for Me by Faith Sullivan - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Faith Sullivan
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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.
Chapter Seven 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.
“Ivy, I’m going to get the maid to let me in if you don’t open up,” Will threatens from the other side of the door. Thank goodness for deadbolts.
Scrambling to yank Eric’s shirt over my head, I pull it as low as it will go, regretting that Will’s going to have to see me like this. It’s not the first time he’s seen me scantily clad, and I hate that it’s becoming a habit.
“What?” I growl, throwing open the door. But Will’s not even startled as he lounges against the doorframe, running his eyes up and down my body. He’s gazing at me so lustfully that I look down to make sure I really do have Eric’s shirt on.
“I can’t believe you’re not even dressed yet. We have an eight o’clock breakfast meeting with Warren, Dave, and their new
“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.
Chapter Seven 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.
“Ivy, I’m going to get the maid to let me in if you don’t open up,” Will threatens from the other side of the door. Thank goodness for deadbolts.
Scrambling to yank Eric’s shirt over my head, I pull it as low as it will go, regretting that Will’s going to have to see me like this. It’s not the first time he’s seen me scantily clad, and I hate that it’s becoming a habit.
“What?” I growl, throwing open the door. But Will’s not even startled as he lounges against the doorframe, running his eyes up and down my body. He’s gazing at me so lustfully that I look down to make sure I really do have Eric’s shirt on.
“I can’t believe you’re not even dressed yet. We have an eight o’clock breakfast meeting with Warren, Dave, and their new
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