Page 109 of Bourbon Deceit
“I heard she’s pregnant. Is the baby yours?”
“Did you like the way she looked in that purple dress?”
Photographers called out questions as I retreated to the car. Well, I wanted my dad to believe I wasn’t involved with Goldie, if this didn’t do it, I didn’t know what would.
When I was in the car, I pulled out my phone and hit speed dial. I needed to hear her voice, I needed to be reenergized. She answered on the second ring.
“So I have this special ringtone for you and I swear to God, it’s like I’m Pavlov’s dog or something because every time I hear your ringtone, I instantly get wet.”
Now that was what I was fucking talking about, that was what I needed, my sweet little one talking dirty to me.
“Your ability to answer your phone without saying hello is refreshing. What if I was someone else?”
She thought about it for a second and then said, “I guess they would know the kind of effect you have on me.”
“And what kind of effect is that?”
“You make me horny,” she said without a hiccup.
“Why do I always happen to be in public situations when you get all spicy on me?”
“Where are you?” she asked with innocence.
“In my car, going back to the club.”
“Why don’t you swing by the French Quarter? I heard there’s a girl at the kink club who needs a good spanking.”
Groaning, I responded, “You have no idea the kind of punishment I want to give you for making me hard right now but I can’t. Soon though, little one, very soon.”
“How soon?” I heard her rustling around.
“Are you in bed?” I asked, ignoring her question.
“I might be.”
“What are you wearing?” I asked as I gulped and started to get hard, just from the mere thought of her in her bed, talking to me. That is what she did to me, the little man-eater.
“If I said nothing, would you come over?”
“It would make me come, that’s for damn sure.”
“Mmm, Mr. Colby, it sounds like your lips are a little looser these days. It seems like I’m having a bad influence on you.”
“I wouldn’t say it was a bad influence but it’s an influence.”
“I hope that’s a good thing.”
“It’s a fucking fantastic thing, little one,” I said weakly.
“You sound upset, is everything okay?” she asked, always perceptive.
I ran my hand through my hair, a nervous tendency, as I looked out the window at the pastel houses of the Garden District.
“Yes, I just . . .” I paused and caught my breath from my pounding heart. I never realized how much I needed Goldie until she was untouchable. “I miss you,” I admitted.
She shifted again. “You’re killing me.”
“What are you doing?”
