“Oh, they started boarding?”
“Twenty minutes ago. I wanted to wait until the last moment to get on, and this is it.”
“Ah, I see. Have a safe flight, wombat. And let me know when you land.”
“I will. Thanks for the picture, red. I’ll put it to good use.”
He’s all the way to the boarding desk when we hang up after some quick goodbyes.
In the days that follow, those little phone calls become our norm. Whenever we’re both free, we spend it together like this, using video when our surroundings allow it. It’s not easy, given our busy schedules and the three-hour time difference, but we make it work. In the end, I miss our physical proximity, but I don’t misshimas much as I thought I would. We actually spend even more time together than we normally do because I often have a Bluetooth earbud nested in my ear—even at work, hidden by my hair.
Neither of us cares if it’s ridiculous. We’re needy like that, and we embrace it. I wasn’t even this clingy as a teenager, but there’s nothing rational about the effect this man has on me, so I stopped questioning it.
His trip to LA, as I understand it, is focused on an international tattoo convention that invited him as a speaker. Adding to that, he is supposed to stay in town as a guest artist in one of the parlors that sponsors the convention. This means he works a lot, mainly in the afternoons and evenings. Jake makes sure to be available around my bedtime, and I fall asleep while on a call more than once.
To our shared surprise, we’re not having as much phone sex as we expected. It’s hard to find the right moment for it when I’m at work by the time he wakes up, and his day ends when I’m already asleep. During the weekend, though, we indulge when he finds a moment to isolate himself.
On Monday morning, I’m all giddy and happy. Jake’s coming back the day after tomorrow, and I can’t wait to hold him in my arms again and feel the softness of his lips on mine, his weight on me, the stubble of his jaw on the smooth skin of my inner thighs… Ah, how I miss my wombat.
I’m grinning like a lunatic, alone in my office, thinking of our reunion on Wednesday. I have planned a fun date for us, which will end in my bed. I’m even getting off work early again to get him at the airport myself.
An enamored smile is still on my face when someone knocks on my door. My assistant is on the other side of the glass, and I invite her in.
“Miss Kensington,” she starts, coming in to set a pile of documents on the corner of my desk. “You have a meeting in ten minutes in the blue conference room.”
Ah, right. This will be another one of those time-wasting meetings where all the executives on this floor and the one below have to listen to Mr. Sinclair talk for an hour to say something that could very well fit in an email. I’m too busy for this, but if I start skipping my boss’s vanity gatherings, I can kiss my promotion goodbye.
In a few minutes, I finish up and rise from my chair. Just as I’m about to head out, my phone dings on my desk. Given the hour, I know exactly who it is, which is why I eagerly pick it up.
My Wombat
Are you free?
Jake just woke up on the other side of the country, and, as usual, he texts me right away.
Me
I’m about to head into a boring meeting, so I won’t be able to talk.
My Wombat
I can do the talking if you want. I’ll make it less boring.
This actually sounds like a great idea, so I take my AirPods from the drawer and head off to the conference room. I’m just done setting up our call when I reach my destination, people still filtering in. As discreetly as I can, I slip the earbud in and adjust my hair in an inconspicuous way.
“Good morning, red,” his voice pours in, all sleepy and low. I’m about to answer when a colleague greets me as she enters the room. “Don’t talk,” Jake commands.
It’s safer this way, so I don’t say a thing and join the others around the massive oval table. Ralf is already in there, talking to Mr. Sinclair with his usual ass-licking tone.
“Ah, there’s Genevieve,” my boss says, gesturing toward me. “Everyone’s in, so we can start.”
“Genevieve… how formal,” Jake murmurs, audibly smiling. “Does he also call you that when you’ve been a bad girl?” Heat spreads on my cheeks as I find an empty chair between two people from the overseas division. “No, I bet you’ve been such a good girl while I was away. Except yesterday, when we had our little fun.”
Images of what we did flash before my eyes. We had a video call, and he coaxed me into getting my vibrator out and using it while he pleasured himself. He demanded no less than three orgasms out of me, and I fell asleep soon after to the lulling sound of his voice recounting his day.
“I was dreaming of you when I woke up, and my cock is still fucking hard. There’s a family-sized tent over here.”
My cheeks are officially hot, and I consider hanging up. This might be a bad idea, after all. Mr. Sinclair makes it impossible, though. “Alright, let’s get on with it. This one’s important, so I better not see a single phone out,” he demands with authority.
