Destiny Calls

“Absolutely. I want us to get to know each other on a deeply personal level. Then we’ll feel free to talk more about our triumphs and the challenges we face. I want you to be able to talk to me about anything. Problems aren’t ever resolved with silence.”

Persia listened to George with total disinterest. Her day had been tiring and all she wanted to do was get home and sleep. Soon after he’d asked her name, the client started in on his wife by whining and complaining about her expecting him to be superman.

“She’s certainly no superwoman. The lady is horrible in bed and she never wants to try anything new. The same position every time gets old. She’s boring when it comes to creativity. She’s so scared the children will hear what goes on. The master is downstairs and the three kids sleep upstairs. They can’t hear a thing.”

“Do you still love her?”

The caller paused, as if caught off guard by the pointed question. While thinking about his response, he scratched his head. “Don’t get me wrong, I love my wife. It’s just that she’s such a prude. But why talk about my wife?”

“At least say something kind about her. She’s the mother of your three kids. You brought up your wife to me, remember?”

“I did, didn’t I? But why do you care whether I respect my wife or not? You’re not respecting her by talking sexy to her husband over the phone.”

Persia knew she hadn’t said one sexy word to George. He had yet to give her an opportunity. Besides that, she preferred to let the callers set the stage and choose the subject matter for the conversations. “Hey, you dialed my number.” She bit down on her tongue.

In the silence, she wondered if she’d said too much.

“Have you ever thought about becoming a marriage counselor, Persia? I think you’d make a good one,” George remarked, sounding downright stupid and not caring.

Persia scowled. “What? Are you kidding me?”

“Guys just need to blow off a head of steam at times. My wife is a real good homemaker. She’s crazy about the kids.” He paused. “Do you think I’m wrong for calling phone-sex lines?”

George had put himself on a guilt trip, Persia thought. He already knew he was dead wrong. No one had to tell him that either. And it certainly wasn’t her place to enlighten him. She was in the business to meet her obligations, not to lose clients. If she told him he was wrong and he stopped calling, she’d lose a client and a good chunk of change. Persia couldn’t afford it.

“Are you still there?” George asked, sounding anxious.

With impatience rising in her again, Persia sighed inwardly. “I’m here. Do you want to keep up with this conversation or are you ready to get it on?”

George paused again for a couple of moments. “First off, I want to know what you look like. Then I want to hear in detail exactly what you’re wearing.”

“My skin is silky, the color of dark chocolate, yet it’s sweet as honey, not a bit bitter. I’m a statuesque five foot seven, with the perkiest thirty-eight C breasts, real ones. My derriere is so firm and tight a quarter would bounce off it—and so is my flat stomach, with a diamond stud in my belly button. With golden-brown eyes and long, dark brown hair, I turn on lots of men. As for what I’m wearing, I’m in my favorite outfit, my birthday suit.”

His breath coming hard, George had to suck in air. “I guess I should go now. This is my first call to you and guilt is busy kicking my butt. Before I hang up, could you whisper something sweet in my ear, something real sweet yet kinda kinky?”

“George.” Her voice had turned low and throaty, sexy and hot. For fun, she’d strongly emphasized the Southern accent. “I’d love to pour chocolate syrup all over your sexy body and then spray you with whipped cream. From head to toe, I’d lick off every bit. How’d that sound?”

“I love it. Will you marry me, Persia?”

“Sure, George, whenever you divorce your wife. Call me when it’s final.”

George laughed. “I really like you and your sense of humor. Is it possible for us to talk again or do I hook up with a different lady every time I call?”

“You can talk to me again.” Persia gave George her personal code and then called out to him her work schedule. She hoped she’d landed a regular, but George’s guilt over calling a sex line might get to him.

“Hope we talk soon.” Sounding totally satisfied, George hung up.

Persia had barely hung up the phone when it buzzed loudly in her ear again. Wondering why she’d been given another call so close to the end of her shift, she reluctantly answered the line. George should’ve been the last caller of the evening, she grumbled mentally, though she knew she needed to earn as much as possible.

“Hello,” she breathed in her sultriest voice. “What’s on your sweet mind?”

“You,” was the simple reply, yet strong and commanding. “I finally got up the nerve to call you. I’ve been thinking about you all day. Your commercial is hot and provocative. I love the shot with the chains. How would you use those chains on me?”

“Any way you’d like. Chaining you to a bed comes to mind. Then I can have my way with you, any way I like it.”

“Naughty girl is what you are. What kind of toys do you have?”

“All kinds. If I don’t have your preference, I’ll get it just for you.”

Persia hadn’t ever had anyone talk to her about chains or other kinky stuff. This brassy man made her feel uncomfortable. She was used to the shier guys, the ones who preferred her to set the tempo, like George.

Despite his comment about “getting up the nerve to call in,” he sounded sure of himself. Persia wasn’t the sexy woman in the commercials the caller had referred to, but clients weren’t privy to that information. Professional models and actresses were used to shoot advertising spots. Besides the obvious, commercials were also done for visual effects. They provided men with a face and body to fantasize about during conversations.

Although many women who worked at Licensed to Thrill were beautiful and sexy, they simply weren’t the actual ladies used in the ads. The intent wasn’t for workers and clients to hook up in person, though it did happen quite often.

“By the way, my name is Luke Lockhart. I’m a huge star in adult films. I’m sure you’ve seen me before. That is, if you watch soft porn.” He paused. “Have you ever had a lesbian encounter?” the man asked.

“I haven’t seen you before, Luke, but I’m sure you’re good at what you do.”

“I’m an expert, the hottest ticket around in adult films,” he boasted.

If that was the case, Persia had to wonder why Luke was calling a phone-sex line. “I’d think you’d get enough sex in your line of work. What made you call in?”

“Like I said, your commercial is smoking hot. I work with a lot of different women, but I’m not attracted to them. Besides, I wouldn’t want a woman who does what I do for a living.”

Coming from someone in the same profession, Persia thought it was interesting. “When did you get into the adult film industry?”

“I was a senior in high school. A friend’s older brother turned me on to it. At eighteen, I was attracted to money. Do you have fantasies about becoming a porn star?”

Persia felt sorry for any guy who’d trashed his youth and body for easy money. She couldn’t imagine anything about his profession as easy. “Afraid not.”

“If you’re open to what I’m into, the paychecks are off the chain.”

Persia blew out a shaky breath. “I’m always open to getting paid,” she said quite honestly. “I’m only here to talk.” Persia was comfortable with her answer, and she couldn’t be accused of lying to or misleading a client.

“Bet I can change your mind, with time,” he taunted.

For the next forty-five minutes Persia talked with Luke. The conversation never got into anything hot and sexy, considering how it’d started out. It was tame and normal, reminding her of two friends talking about the day-to-day issues in their lives. He was more into asking her questions about her job, which was kind of odd. It also gave her the impression he might be a recruiter for the adult film industry. That made more sense.

Persia was glad when the phone call finally ended. His lifestyle wasn’t something she was interested in, no matter how much money it paid. Putting her alter ego to bed at the end of the workday always felt good, up until she had to reawaken her.

As Ethan welcomed Dakota into his home, he gave her several sweet kisses. “You look marvelous. You wear red very well. I love the dress.”

Dakota did a full turn to show off her simple but lovely red sheath. “I thank you.” She looked him over from head to toe. “It looks like I’m a bit overdressed. Had I known you were wearing jeans I would’ve done the same.”

“Oh, no, you made the perfect choice. I love feminine fluff. I can change clothes if you’d like me to.”

Dakota shook her head. “I like you just the way you are.”