Part 8 (1/2)
There was a long silence on the other end of the line, and then Savannah said, ”How is Emily?”
”Fine,” he answered her. ”We're talking about you, Savannah. Prunella just takes a bit of getting used to, sweetie. She's never worked with an American before.”
”She wants a detailed outline. She says sales needs it,” Savannah wailed.
”I'll call her and explain you don't waste your time with outlines,” he said quietly.
”She wants to see pieces of the ma.n.u.script,” Savannah told him.
”I'll tell her you deliver a completed ma.n.u.script, and not bits,” Mick responded. ”What else?”
”She isn't you!” And Savannah Banning began to cry.
Michael Devlin laughed softly. ”I miss you too, sweetie. And I miss old Reg, and the kids, and those great family weekends down in Suffolk. But I suspect I'm back in the Colonies to stay. We're both going to have to get used to it.”
”Then Martin is going to put you in charge,” Savannah said.
”I hope not,” Michael Devlin replied. ”I like what I do, and J.P. is really more suited to run a publis.h.i.+ng house than I am.”
”You could learn,” Savannah sniveled.
”I could, but I don't want to,” he told her. ”I just want to edit my books. I'll make it all right between you and old Pruny, Savannah. Okay?”
”Okay,” she agreed. ”Now, tell me about you and Emily.”
”There's nothing to tell,” he lied.
”Bulls.h.i.+t!” Savannah said.
”Lady Palmer!” Michael Devlin exclaimed. ”I'm shocked. Shocked.”
”I hope you've become lovers, Mick. She such a sweetie, and she needs a good man,” Savannah told him.
”Savannah, do not disparage my reputation. I pride myself on being a bad boy, and you know it,” he told her. ”Remember all my fun miniscandals in London over the past few years. By the by, do the girls miss me?”
”Mick, you are such a silly man sometimes,” Savannah remarked. ”Was she a virgin? I somehow thought she might be.”
”Savannah,” he warned. ”Remember we're on a company phone. Now if there is nothing else, I'm going to ring off. I'll call Pruny tomorrow. She'll be gone from the office by now with the time change. Say hi to Reg and the children for me. Ta.” He put the telephone down while at the same time reaching for his cell and punching in the number one.
”h.e.l.lo?” Emily's voice came through clear and sweet.
”I miss you,” he said.
”It's only been a day, Devlin,” she answered him.
”A day and a half,” he corrected her. ”I drove back late Sunday afternoon. Just another week, and we've got an entire month to ourselves.”
”Devlin, I have to work if this book is going to be in on time,” she reminded him.
”I want to be inside of you,” he murmured. ”I sent you that little toy for times like this. When we aren't together, I want to play phone games with you.”
”Devlin!” she pleaded.
”Get it,” he said. ”I need you!”
”Hold on. I hid it so Essie wouldn't find it,” she half whispered.
”I thought you didn't let her in your office,” he said.
”I don't, but you never know. Okay, I've got it.” Emily was already feeling a twinge of excitement. The sound of his voice on the phone could make her wet.
”Take it out of the box, angel face. Realistic, isn't it?” he teased.
”Looks just like you, Devlin,” she teased back.
”What are you wearing?” he asked her.
”Never got out of my sleep s.h.i.+rt this morning,” she told him.
”Hold it in your right hand,” he instructed her. ”Start licking it. And use your left hand to play with yourself. I want you nice and wet, angel face,” he told her as he unzipped his slacks and released his p.e.n.i.s, which was already partly swollen with just the sound of her voice. He imagined her leaning back in her big leather chair, the sleep s.h.i.+rt hiked to her waist, the softness of her smooth, rounded hips against the black leather.
”Ohh, Devlin, this is so good,” Emily whispered into the telephone. ”Ummm. Ummm. Ummmmm.” She began to suck vigorously on the d.i.l.d.o in her hand. It had been made to duplicate Michael Devlin's long, thick c.o.c.k in full flagrante. It was made of a natural colored rubber, and spitted on a twisted rod of polished ashwood.
”Are you playing with your c.l.i.t?” he wanted to know. The sucking noises were driving him wild. He could almost feel her mouth on his p.e.n.i.s.
”Are you playing with your d.i.c.k?” she countered.
”I am so hard you could break it off.” He groaned.
”I'm so wet that Mr. Naughty is going to slip right in and go all the way,” she replied. ”I've got it ready, Devlin. Do you want me to shove it in? Do you?” Her voice was breathy with her excitement.
”Not yet. I want you to want it a little more, angel face,” he teased her.
”You're going to come all over your office, Devlin, if you don't stop,” she said. ”Better let me f.u.c.k myself now so you can cool off.”
”b.i.t.c.h!” He groaned. She was right. He reached for his handkerchief to contain the spurts of c.u.m he couldn't contain any longer.
”Ahhhhhh! Oh, G.o.d, that feels good!” She thrust the d.i.l.d.o back and forth in her v.a.g.i.n.a until, with a long exhalation of a sigh, she came. ”But it's not as good as the real thing, Devlin, is it?” she complained. ”I miss you too.”
”I talked with Lady P today. She sends kisses,” he told her.
”I'll e-mail her later,” Emily responded. ”And as lovely as this interlude was, I think we both have to get back to work, Devlin.”
”Yeah.” He sighed. ”I've got a lunch date with some s.e.xy new author.”
”Think of me when you're with her,” Emily told him.
”That's the problem. If I think of you I'll get a hard-on. We wouldn't want another woman getting the wrong idea, now, angel face, would we?”
Emily laughed. ”Good-bye, Devlin,” she said as she hung up the phone. She hadn't answered his question. She couldn't. But the truth was, she didn't want him with any other woman. Almost eleven weeks ago Michael Devlin had walked into her life. She had lost her virginity and fallen in love for the first time. What an idiot she was. She was in love with a man who owned a house in London, and had women with t.i.tles fighting over him. ”You have finally gone around the bend, Emily,” she said aloud.