You Can Talk to Me
A/N: Just a little something to pass the time. As usual, no money being made, although heaven knows I'd give up every nickel I would make if they would just produce more Blood Ties.
It had been a long day and the night didn't look to be getting any shorter either. Coreen was gone (thank God), Mike had stormed out over an hour ago and - finally - blessed quiet reigned. She took off her glasses and closed her eyes as she propped up her feet on the desk, shoving paper work she didn't want to deal with out of her way. She didn't know if Henry was coming by, but right now, she was just going to enjoy the quiet. And Henry, staring at her with those eyes, those lips waiting to touch hers definitely didn't fit in with her plans of a nice, restful evening.Eyes shut, Vicki's breathing started to even out and she could feel some of the tension of the day start to leave her shoulders. Finally.
She thought she heard something, the quiet ring of her phone, and reached for it without even opening her eyes. Why bother, she thought, might as well get used to the dark. When she spoke, most of the bitter was out of her voice, "Nelson Investigations.""You sound sleepy.""Not sleepy. Tired.""Too tired to talk for a bit?"She smiled, hearing his need in his voice. "What do you want to talk about?""How hot you looked when I was licking you the other night."She felt the warmth creep up her body as she remembered. "Surely a writer such as yourself could think of something more interesting to talk about,. You should have a myriad of topics at your disposal."
"Yes, I do, but I'd rather talk about how good it felt to lick you all over. How hard it made me to run my fingers all over the wettest places on your body." As an afterthought he added, "And don't call me Shirley."
She laughed, and she could almost see his smile in front of her. God, when she was 90 she was going to be hot for him. The grin that appeared and then turned into a smirk. The tongue that darted out between the pouty lips and, yes, licked until she screamed his name.
"So. What are you wearing?" His voice was low, sultry.
"I'm at the office. What do you think I'm wearing?"
"Something easy to get out of I hope."
"You're not even here, Henry." She found herself wishing he was, and licking the same spots he had been the other night. "So it's a moot point."
She felt a breeze, a wisp of hair touch her ear. "I'm never far away."
She felt herself grow wet all over again.