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    Dirty Calls: Dirty Love Duet, #1
    Dirty Calls: Dirty Love Duet, #1
    Dirty Calls: Dirty Love Duet, #1
    Ebook120 pages1 hour

    Dirty Calls: Dirty Love Duet, #1

    By Sade Rena

    3.5/5

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    About this ebook

    It all started with the wrong number. I never expected he'd have me calling his name.

     

    Jessica

    New to town and overworked, all she wants is to put herself to sleep but gets more than she bargains for when she answers a misdialed call. Curiosity takes hold and instead of hanging up, she joins in, enjoying herself way too much. Once satisfied and slightly embarrassed, she ends the call, finding comfort in knowing she'll never have to hear from him again.

     

    Kade

    After a long day in the office, he needs a release and is pleasantly surprised when he learns the call to his on again off again fling, is answered by another woman. Intrigued by her boldness and the sensuality of her voice, he rings her line the next day to finish what they started.

     

    This is crazy, right? Of course it is, but against her better judgment, she begins to long for his obsessive nature. An easy choice to make considering they've never seen each other and never will. But just as their connections heat up, Jessica learns shocking news that makes this whole affair of dirty calls somewhat forbidden, yet still sexy as hell.

     

    DIRTY CALLS is a steamy BWWM accidental romance novella and is book one in the Dirty Love Duet. This story was previously published in the Obsessive Temptations Collection and now includes bonus content.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherSade Rena
    Release dateDec 31, 2020
    ISBN9781393668114
    Dirty Calls: Dirty Love Duet, #1

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      Book preview

      Dirty Calls - Sade Rena

      CHAPTER ONE

      JESSICA

      I don’t know why I insist on coming home every night with more shit than I had when I left the house. With my hands full, it’s a struggle to open the heavy door to my apartment. I unload the bags on the counter, letting my keys fall from my grasp, sending a thump and jingle through the air. After putting everything in its place, I retrieve a plate and wineglass from the cupboard and prepare for dinner. I rush into my bedroom, where I remove my bra and change into my loungewear: a pair of satin shorts and an old wife-beater. After wrapping my hair with my silk scarf, I peel away my contacts, replacing them with my glasses before returning to the kitchen.

      The Indian food I ordered has gone cold, so I pop it in the microwave. I reach for my wine and take a sip, savoring the taste and silently thanking Jesus for such a gift. Lord knows I need several glasses after the week I’ve had. Remembering the deadline for tomorrow, I gather my laptop bag and carry both it and my glass into the living room. The microwave dings, signaling my food is ready.

      I grab the plate and a fork, stealing a bite on the way back to the couch. I sit with one leg folded underneath me, burying myself into the plush cushion and devouring my dinner. Once done, I unzip my bag and remove my computer, notepad, and favorite pen. I power on the device and click on the TV for a bit of white noise. It doesn’t matter what’s on. Soon I’ll be lost in my work and will tune it out completely.

      We have a big presentation in the morning, and it’s important I make a good impression and seal the deal with our clients. I’ve been in Arlington, VA, for six months, and while I’m more than qualified, it’s my first solo project. I’ve developed many training programs during my internship in New York, but the client called with last-minute changes that undo all the work I’ve already completed. It’s going to be a long night, but I do well under pressure, and tonight will be no different. Tiring, but a challenge I’ll overcome—if I don’t get drunk first.

      The TV flickers, drawing my attention to the beginning of a sex scene, and my body instantly reacts. The hero rips open the heroine’s blouse and pulls her close, devouring her mouth in his. Their passion stirs through me, warming the sensitive parts of my body. I sigh, realizing how long it’s been since I’ve been touched like that. Then I think of all the ways I could be touched right now if I hadn’t accepted this job that my ex dumped me over. I could be getting fucked fifty ways from Sunday, letting out all the stress yesterday brought me. 

      This is pathetic.

      To clear my thoughts, I shake my head. I’ve been at this for hours and have almost finished the assignment. My shoulders tense when I notice the time: three-fifteen in the morning. My eyes are heavy, and I’ve emptied the first bottle of Merlot, and now, thanks to that one little kissing scene, I’m horny as hell.

      I sit up, flexing my muscles, and crane my neck. With my fingers back on the keyboard, I prepare to type while struggling not to look up at the television. Now distracted, I hear every word pouring from the speaker, even at a low volume.

      Let me make love to your body and mind, he says to the heroine.

      I take a deep breath, diverting my eyes between the two screens, willing my desires to settle. It isn’t even that explicit and more aligned with a PG rating, yet still, it gets to me.

      Finish this project, Jessica, I demand of myself.

      But who am I kidding?

      Once you’ve gone down the road of lust, sexual release is often hard to ignore. Another deep breath, and I continue my task only to stop mid-sentence. I press my lips together and glance at the TV, thankful the scene switched to something more wholesome. But—it’s too late now. Fuck it! I sit the computer on the table and push myself off the couch with my wineglass in tow. When I reach the kitchen, I pour myself another drink, downing it before making it the few feet to my dining table. I look to my bedroom and subconsciously find myself inching through the door and walking over to my nightstand.

      Pulling the drawer open, I grab the pink satin drawstring bag that houses my best friend of the last six months—B.O.B. The MF that gets the job done—E-V-E-R-Y fucking time.

      Hey, good friend.

      I make my way back into the living room, flop down in the middle of the sofa, and reach for my phone. I thumb to the internet browser and eagerly type in the URL to a porn site. Explicit images bounce off the screen, jolting my vision as I skim them in search of the perfect one.

      The hardest part about masturbating is finding the right video. My body comes alive quickly at the thought of a nearing orgasm but watching a good flick can make the process more…exhilarating. At least for me. Sometimes, I picture myself as the girl, getting stretched out so deliciously.

      After searching through a few pages, I settle on one of those I was caught by my stepbrother skits. Yes, I like the corny role plays where they pretend there’s some forbidden connection that makes the sex…wrong.

      It takes the scene a couple of minutes to get started, and if I’m sure I wouldn’t face the dreaded buffering fiasco, I’d skip ahead to the good parts. Thankfully, the wait isn’t too long, and as soon as I see the brother spying on the sister with his dick in hand, my body lights up.

      I touch my breasts, tugging at my nipples, and shiver from the tingles it brings. The camera zooms in on the brother’s stroke, and my arousal stirs. The sister finally notices him jacking off to her, and the reaction is stupid and overly performed, but it’s the part I’ve been waiting for. They share a few poorly written lines about how it’s wrong, and then the scene cuts to him lapping away at her pussy.

      My kitty purrs as I reach for B.O.B and, with one hand, slide him out of the pink satchel and position him just right. My clit throbs when the cool silicone touches it and aches with desire as I circle the tip around my bud. I need this release so badly, and I want more than nothing to drive it into my walls, but instead, I take my time, teasing myself so I can come when the actor does. In the next scene, he enters her, and as if on cue, B.O.B makes his way into my pussy.

      I click the side, turning the motor to a low speed. It’s late, and I need to sleep, but I don’t want to rush my orgasm. I pleasure myself, slowly coming undone in my living room with the shades wide open. The thought of someone watching me through my window aids in my pleasure. He increases his stroke, and I do the same, raising the speed on my vibrator one notch.

      And boy, does it feel amazing.

      The camera flashes in again, and I arch my back, imagining myself in her place. My eyes roll shut as I pump against my thrusts, reveling in the bliss. He groans, forcing one of my own, but instantly his voice goes quiet, snapping me out of my trance. I peek one eye open to see my solo sexcapade is being interrupted by a call. Not recognizing the number, I decline it, closing my eyes when the stepbrother’s voice roars through my ear again.

      Not even sixty seconds later, the video pauses again, and the same number stares at me from the screen. I shut off my vibrator but leave it in place. I don’t want to answer, but for this person to call back to back, it may be important. Pressing the accept call button, I sit upright, preparing to speak.

      I’m imagining how good your pussy would feel wrapped around my dick, Candace. Your sweet sticky juices coating me, a deep voice pours through the speakers before I can get out a word.

      It’s not important after all, and whoever Candace is, she’s a lucky bitch. I’m about to tell him he’s got the wrong number, but what he says next sends pulses to my pussy, reminding me that my vibrator is still there waiting for me. 

      Fuck it, I think to myself.

      It would be a shame to let this go to waste. He’s obviously already in the mood, and I’m so close to coming myself. What would it hurt to let this man’s zaddy voice coax me to my orgasm?

      "Can you picture my

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