My phone rings. Not my encrypted anonymous work line, my personal line. It’s not a number I recognize. On the rare occasion someone from my family calls, their names come up. My friends text me. Really, no one calls me on this phone. For a vague moment I think about answering it. Nah. I’m not going to answer a call from a number I don’t know.
I let it go, see if they leave a message.
I press my voice mail; play the message back.
For a second it’s just breathing and silence.
Then deep voice. “I have a new assignment I can use a partner on.” Oh wow, Mr. Big. “If you’re interested.” Another pause. “Shit, Effie, I miss you, I want you. Fuck. Come to Switzerland with me. God damn, you were so hot, and we are on fire together. I want it again, please. Just call me back, please. I’m sure your phone I.D.ed my number. Fuck.”
What? Huh? Effie?
I think for a minute. He’s not a guy to make a mistake.
Not Effie. F and T. For Flesh and Thieves. That’s what I branded myself, both of us really, the one time I met him. I programmed that instead of my name in his phone after the hottest knocking of combat boots to ballet slippers of my life. I flash back to a vision of me pressed up against the wall of that hotel room in Columbia. Knocking boots doesn’t come close to describing the brain searing heat of that encounter. Then while he was sleeping, I slipped off into the moonless night with a backpack full of diamond jewelry but without a word.
He’s been thinking about me. I smile. I’ve been thinking about him too.
I wait a few minutes. I call him back.
I don’t say hello. “Well, Mr. Big. What’s the job?”
I think I can hear him smile over the phone at the Mr. Big moniker.
“It’s a two-fold. I need to steal a necklace of a princess while she’s wearing it and protect the other princess during the same stretch of time.”
I laugh. Sure. Right. “Piece of cake.”
“So are you in?”
“You bet your fancy binoculars I’m in.”
“Meet you in the airport in Bern. Friday at noon?”
We hang up. For the first time in my life I don’t give a shit about the job. I’m looking forward to seeing Mr. Big again. The tension. The sizzle. The sex. Oh fuck, I’m looking forward to the sex.
I go back to thinking about that night in Columbia again.
He lifted me easily and slammed me up against the wall. Rocked me with his hard, huge length against my belly until I was soaked. Plunged into me, all strength, and lust, and hungry male. There had been almost no foreplay, but we were both so ready, running high on adrenaline and anticipation.
The most amazing night ever.
God damn, now I was getting wet just thinking about it.
I call him back.
“Yes,” he answers the phone.
“I forgot to say hi,” I drawl. “I forgot to say every time I think of you I get wet. I forgot to say that if that wasn’t the best damn fuck of my life, it was damn fucking close.”
“Right back at you.”
I made my voice as low and sexy as I could make it.
“Friday’s so far away…there’s so many things I didn’t do. Suck that huge cock for instance.”
His sharp intake of breath is startlingly loud.
“Anyway,” I say casually. “Just wanted to say hi and let you know I’ve been thinking about you.” I hang up.
I smile to myself. Yeah. I’m a cruel, teasing badass who gives good phone. A total, total bitch.
Friday is going to be awesome.
Can you say mile high club?