"Hey baby," Nick said sleepily. "How was your day?"
"Busy. I miss you."
"I miss you, too. I wish-"
"Stop it, please? I can't be there and if you keep this up I'm gonna
cry."
"Baby, you're gonna cry anyway!" He laughed over the phone.
Becca sniffled. "I can't help it."
"I know. I'll see you tomorrow night, all right? I still wish you could get
to the stadium in time for the game."
"I'd never make it through the crowd. I can't get out of Orlando till
almost 4."
"I could send a car for you, Bec."
"No. We already discussed this to death, Nick. I don’t want that kind of
attention."
"But you'll be there for the party…"
"Of course, baby, I wouldn't miss it."
"You have the address?"
"Yes, dear," she grinned, "it's memorized. How many times did you have me write it down?"
"I just need you there, Bec. It'll be the last time I see you for a while."
"Damn you," she sniffled. "See what you've done?"
He chuckled softly. "I'm sorry."
"No you’re not," she pouted, blowing her nose.
"That was attractive."
"Bite me, Nicky."
"Wish I could." He paused, settling back against the headboard of the king-size bed in downtown Atlanta. "What are you wearing?" he asked, grinning.
"My pj's, why?"
"Just wondering. Which ones?
"Blue …"
"The ones with all the buttons."
Becca laughed. "Not your favorites, are they?"
Nick thought for a minute. "They *could* be."
"Nick?"
"I could learn to like them," he whispered. "Know what I'd do?"
"What?" she smiled.
"Well, first …. first I'd make sure you were comfy, you know, kinda all stretched out.
Then *I'd* get comfy, too. But you'd need to make room for me. "
"How so?"
"Um …. Move your knees apart a little, so I can lie down with you."
"Oh."
"Then I'd undo the buttons. One at a time, and I'd start from the bottom one. You'd like that?"
"Yeah," she sighed.
"Do it for me," he whispered.
"What?"
"Undo your buttons, Bec."
"Nick, I don't-"
"C'mon, it's ok. Just you and me. Start with the bottom one … you got it?"
"Um hmm."
"Keep goin', nice and slow, one at a time."
"God –"
"What?"
"It's cold in here, Nick."
"Not for long," he said deeply and she shuddered. "See … once they were all open, then I
could touch your skin. I could run my finger right down the center of your chest, from your chin to your belly button. Can you feel that?"
"No…"
"Do it, Bec. Use your finger for me, just think like it's me."
"Nick-"
"Please?"
"God, Nick."
"Told ya. Did that feel good, baby?"
"Uh huh."
"Then once I did that, I'd just move my hand underneath your top. I don't even need to see where it's going, I can just feel you. You feel so good. Your breasts are so soft and they just fit in my hands. I love to hold them, and squeeze them. I love the little sounds you make when I do that."
Becca whimpered into the phone.
"Yeah, like that. You're doing it aren't you? Don't stop it, be my hands for me. Let me make you feel good, Bec." He sighed, scooting further down on the bed. If she only knew what effect this was having on *him*.
"Nick, I wish you were here."
"I am, sweetheart. Just relax." He took a deep breath. "Take off your top so I can see you." He paused while he could hear movement on the other end. "Beautiful. You're so beautiful. You're just perfect, Bec. I love the way your breasts swell when we make love; the way your nipples get hard and dark… I like to brush my thumbs over them just before I take them between my teeth."
Becca was completely stretched out on her bed, lost in the fantasy. "You feel so good."
"Good. I want you to feel good tonight, Bec." He kicked his boxers off, the need to touch himself becoming too great to ignore. "I need more. I'd kiss you then, but I'd slowly slip my hand under the elastic of your pants. Ummm … you're so soft right there. Did you know that's one of my favorite spots? Right there, just beneath your belly button. God, I love that spot. I could touch it all night, but I know a spot that needs me more."
"Nick, I can't." She blushed, all alone in her bedroom.
"Sure you can. You know what you like, there's nothing wrong with this, Bec." He knew she'd be uncomfortable with this. "I need to feel you touch me, too." He went one step further. "I can feel your hands on *me*, the way you wrap your fingers around me and make me hard." Finally he gave in to his own need, wrapping his hand around his erection and closing his eyes. "God, that's good."
Becca's breath caught in her throat. She knew what he was doing, and could see him in her mind. God. In a movement that mirrored his own, she shed her pajama pants and was now completely naked. "Oh, Nick…"
"Feels good, Bec. Don't stop." He stroked himself slowly as he talked. "I wanta touch you. Can I touch you?"
"Yeah."
"Baby, you're so hot, so wet. Damn, baby, that's all for me. I just wanta run my fingers all over you, touch you everywhere. Feel me, Bec."
"Ohgod." Becca sighed, beyond embarrassment at touching herself for Nick. Slowly she ran her fingers over just the places Nick liked to touch and if she concentrated hard enough on his voice she could almost believe that he was there with her.
"God, this feels so good. I need to be inside you, baby. God, I want you."
"I want you too, Nick. Please…"
"C'mon, Bec, do it. Just like I would." His hand moved faster, spreading his own wetness over his hard flesh.
"Oh yes …." She could feel him. She could almost believe that he was buried deep within her and she was so close to coming… "Nick-"
"Baby, do it. Just let it go, come for me. I’m almost there too." His own movements were frantic as he heard her cries on the other end of the line. "God, Bec-"
"Nick!" Her hips rose from the bed as her orgasm rushed over her body. Nick had promised she'd no longer be cold and he was right. She was soaked with sweat and heard him groan as he came, hundreds of miles away.
There was only silence as they each came down from the high.
"Bec?" Nick whispered.
"Yeah?"
"Cover up and go to sleep. I don’t want you to get cold. I love you, baby."
"I love you, too," she said softly. "I'll see you tomorrow night?"
"I'll be waiting. I can't wait to hold you again."
"Me, too. 'Night Nicky.
"G'night Bec. Sweet dreams, baby."
*******
It was the literally day from Hell, and being a church musician, Becca didn't use that term lightly. She overslept, starting the day off on the wrong foot. Last night's phone call from Nick had been amazing, but she slept deeper than she had in ages, completely missing her alarm. By the time she arrived at the church, half her choir had called in with the flu, totally ruining her planned service music.
Somehow they muddled through by recycling something they'd done several months earlier. Then, to add to the bizarreness of the day, she caught the alto section passing around a newspaper during the sermon. As quietly as she could, she managed to confiscate the paper, shoving it in her briefcase. It wasn't until she was getting dressed to leave for Tampa that she thought to look at it. Her curiosity was aroused. What on earth could have been so engrossing that half the women in the choir would blow off the pastor's message?
Becca pulled out the paper and turned on the light by the recliner. As she read the headlines her heart stopped and her legs refused to support her any longer. In bold face headline she read: "LOCAL BUSINESSMAN ANDREW McINTYRE DEAD AT 28"
Andrew? Dead? Oh my God. Opening to page three, his death notice chilled her to the bone. "Local businessman Andrew McIntyre, 28, passed away early Friday following a lengthy battle with AIDS. Although confirmed HIV positive over five years ago, he only recently became involved in community action programs to promote tolerance and awareness."
Five years? Oh god. That meant that when they were together – Becca's stomach churned and she almost didn't make it to the bathroom before becoming violently ill. Her head swam with the implications. They'd had sex once, only once, and never used protection. Andrew had been less than considerate that night.
A comment he'd made Christmas Eve kept running through her mind. "You're going away?" she'd asked. "You could say that," he'd replied. Oh Jesus, he knew he was dying. "I'm sorry," he'd said. Leaning over the toilet she threw up again. He'd known all along and exposed her anyway. And Nick – God, Nick.
"What have I done?" she sobbed. "Oh God, Nick-" She had to talk to him, but no. She couldn't. "I don't ever want to hear his name again," he'd said vehemently. It was six o'clock. She should have been well on her way to Tampa by now, but she couldn't seem to move. By the time she'd calmed down enough to call it was 8:30. She tried dialing Sarah's cell phone, Sarah could help her.
One ring. Two rings. Three. No answer. She tried again, still no answer. She was in shock, something she wouldn't realize until much later.
*****
As the airport shuttle driver loaded her bags into the back of the van, she tried once more. This time she left a message.
"Sarah, I've tried and tried to reach you. This is awful and I can't stay. I love you and I love Nicky." Her voice broke. "God, I love him so much, but I can't do this to him. Please take care of him. Tell him that I'll always love him and that I'm so sorry." She was weeping openly now.
Becca's plane had been in the air an hour when Sarah found her message.