"Are you ready for more?" he asked.

"Yes." Her voice cracked with the truth, and she swallowed in an attempt to clear her throat. "Yes."

"Take the fan you bought and spray water on your breasts, belly, and thighs," he murmured. "Then position the fan so the breeze drifts over your wet skin."

Obeying, she shivered as the first fine droplets of water beaded on her hot, naked skin, both refreshing and arousing her to higher level of need, which she was sure was Steve's intent. She continued to mist her way down her body, then set the fan on the table so that an exhilarating draft of air kissed her bared, moist flesh.

Letting her head fall back, she closed her eyes, saturating her mind with the highly electrifying sensations awakening long-dormant desires. "Oh, God, this feels absolutely decadent."

"I wish I were there to see you," he said, his breathing a bit deeper than before. "But since I'm not, I want you to touch yourself and imagine it's my fingers, mouth, and tongue on your skin. Tell me what you feel and how you like to be touched and caressed. Make me a part of your pleasure."

Ignoring the little voice in her head reminding her that she could get caught, she lifted her hand and lightly drifted her fingers along her collarbone and down to the slope of her plump breast, leaving goose bumps in the wake of her slow, insidious touch. "My skin is so hot," she whispered, deliberately using sexually engaging words designed to pull him into the carnal image she was weaving. "Hot and wet and slippery. Can you feel how slick my flesh is?"

"Yeah," he said, his tone low and guttural.

She let her lashes flutter closed again, imagining he was sitting right beside her, his voice in her ear, and his hands on her body instead of her own. "Your long, warm fingers are on my breasts, massaging and squeezing them, and your thumbs are flicking across my rigid nipples, back and forth-"

"My mouth is open and hot on your breasts," he cut in abruptly, reversing their roles and taking over. "My teeth are teasing your nipples, tugging on them, and now my lips are parting, taking you deep, suckling you hard and strong…"

She whimpered, overwhelmed by the heat sizzling through her veins, building higher and hotter and more intense with every erotic word he spoke. She felt the game careening out of her control… and right into his.

"Your thighs are so smooth. I'm licking the moisture from your skin and using my tongue to taste my way all the way up to your sex. I can smell your heady scent, your arousal. You want to come, don't you?"

Her thighs trembled. Hunger unfurled inside her like a sweet, insistent ache. Pulsing. Throbbing. Demanding to be appeased. It was nearly too much to withstand. "Steve…"

"Press your fingers to your panties, Liz," he said, his tone allowing no refusal from her. He made her wait long, agonizing seconds before asking, "Are they damp?"

Beneath the panel of cotton, her sex was swollen and she was positively drenched with desire and need, and she told him so. "They're soaked."

"For me?"

"Yes, for you." No one else.

"God, you make me rock-hard." His voice was low and thick, devastatingly aroused and aggressively unrestrained. "Feel how much I want you."

She put herself there, with him, and worked up the nerve to be just as bold as he'd been. "I've got your cock in my hand," she told him huskily, "and I'm stroking the rigid length in a firm, steady grip."

"Oh, yeah," he encouraged.

"You feel so hard, so hot and throbbing…"

"Yeah, I am. Take me in your mouth," he ordered in a rough, thrilling whisper.

In their private fantasy world, she did, filling his mind with vivid, provocative details of how silky-wet her mouth was as she sucked him… faster, stronger, deeper. She could hear his breathing grow ragged, and her own quickened, too.

"Oh, shit… I'm coming." His gruff oath rolled into a deep grunt and a harsh, hissing exhale of breath. Then, a long, low groan of satisfaction.

Liz had been so wrapped up in the fantasy, it took her a few extra seconds to resurface from their virtual tryst. The sensual haze clouding her mind dissipated bit by bit as her surroundings came back into focus, reminding her that she wasn't in an intimate setting with Steve but in a small, warm, dingy room-half dressed and excruciatingly aroused.

She found herself both fascinated and miffed that he'd actually climaxed. Or had he? "Did you really…?"

"Yeah, I really did," he muttered. "And I can't begin to tell you how badly I needed that, since I've been walking around with an erection ever since you left my office this afternoon."

She knew exactly how he felt, because her body was still in that tense state of discontent, burning as though she were in the throes of a growing fever.

"By the way, your shift is over."

"Oh." She glanced at her watch and realized it was three minutes after midnight. Surely he wasn't going to leave her so… unsatisfied?

"I'll talk to you soon, okay?"

Guess so. She blinked, feeling entirely disappointed and disillusioned by his abrupt farewell after what had just happened between them. "Sure."

Disconnecting the call, she took off her headset and straightened her clothes, unable to believe the rogue had slaked his own lust and left her unsatisfied and completely and totally worked up!

Damn him, anyway, she thought irritably. She tingled all over, every part of her quivering with intemperate need. Blowing out an upward stream of breath that ruffled her bangs, she wondered how she was going to be able to make it all the way home without giving her own body the release it was clamoring for.

She had no choice but to wait, she knew, because she had a feeling it would take more than just one quick self-induced orgasm to satiate the fire smoldering inside her.

Forcing a semblance of calm and double-checking her blouse and skirt to make sure everything was back in order, Liz grabbed her spritz fan and purse and stepped outside her office. The outer hallway was filled with echoing sounds of other operators still servicing customers behind their own closed doors as she made her way back toward the front of the establishment, where Doreen, the night manager, told her to check in after her shift was over.

The front reception area was plush and well furnished, with nicely upholstered chairs, and recognizable artwork hanging on the cream-colored walls. No one who strolled inside the office and took a casual glance around would ever guess what really went on down the hall and behind all those closed doors.

Doreen, a pretty forty-something woman with short brunette hair and a slender figure dressed in designer clothes, sat at the main workstation. A large computer system and a flickering screen gathering caller and employee information seemed to be her primary source of tracking the evening's business.

Behind Doreen, in another partitioned corner of the spacious room, four switchboard operators worked steadily and efficiently to connect calls as they came in, and passed on detailed information and reports to the main network system. Judging by the equipment and latest technology they were using, it was easy to surmise that The Ultimate Fantasy was no rinky-dink company operating on a shoestring budget. No, Antonio and his other partners, whoever they were, took their business very seriously.

Liz came up to the counter, the jingling sound of the keys in her hand catching the other woman's attention. "I'm done for the night."

"Give me a sec to sign you out," Doreen said, and executed a few quick keystrokes on the computer, which prompted another piece of equipment to print out sheets of paper. She gathered the copies and scanned the numerous pages as the machine continued to produce more documents. "For a first-timer, you sure did catch on quick. Nice job on that last call. You had him on the line for over forty minutes."

Liz felt compelled to offer an explanation for that excessively long call. "He was very lonely and just needed someone to talk to."

Doreen laughed and rolled her eyes, her expression one of pure cynicism. "Yeah, every once in a while one of those bleeding-heart types gets suckered in, which helps you make those extra bonuses."

Liz continued to play along and act like an enthusiastic employee. "He promised to call back, so if I'm lucky, I can count on him to fatten my paycheck."

"That you can." Doreen slid one of the papers onto the counter and handed her a pen. "Sign this report and you can be on your way."

Glancing at the document, Liz tried to decipher the various columns, numbers, and information on the statement-one she wasn't about to approve with her signature until she knew exactly what the printout meant. "What's this for?"

"It's a log of your hours, time spent on the phone with a customer, and the last four digits of the client's phone number. Just basic tracking information on our end." She opened a file folder with Liz's name and employee number on the tab. "Once you sign the report, it goes into your personnel file, which then goes to Antonio when he gets in tomorrow morning. He reviews all the statements and transcripts of employee calls before approving payment."

"Transcripts?" A chill slithered down Liz's spine when she thought about her conversation with Steve being copied, which had included mention of Valerie, and way too much familiarity between the two of them before they'd gotten to all the sexy stuff.

Doreen nodded. "All calls are monitored and recorded."

That's illegal, Liz wanted to say, but bit back the response, certain that Doreen wouldn't appreciate her being a stickler for constitutional rights and legalities when the company obviously wasn't. "So, all my calls tonight were recorded?"