There’s a hint to Susannah’s voice that I don’t like, an edge that makes me think things aren’t right with her. She sounds . . .angry. And I wonder what’s happening in the studio to cause that. Maybe something happened on air? Did her and Derrick have an argument? Maybe that’s what Elise is calling about?
“Now, we’ve played a few clips already, as shared by our generous Love Whisperer from his personal collection, but we saved this one for last, the crème de la crème of some crazy-hot phone sex. Make sure you’ve got a pen to take notes listeners. Maybe a towel too . . . for the drool.” She giggles throatily. “Let’s take a listen, and we’ll open up the lines for you after this.”
Derrick chuckles, saying “Let’s hear it.” And there’s a split second before the recording starts.
From the first grunt, all the blood rushes from my face as I recognize who it is. “You know I love your tits,” Derrick growls. “Show those perfect tits to me, rub your thumb across your nipples until they’re pearled up for me.”
It’s edited, but not for content. Instead, every mention of emotion, every dimming of anything except lewd, nasty fucking sex is stripped out. I listen as my voice comes through the radio, mewling that yes, I’m Derrick’s dirty little slut, my breath audibly quickening and the squelching noises obvious even over the radio as I finger fucked myself for him.
Just as I call out his name, the cabbie reaches over, switching it off. The taxi driver looks at me in the rearview mirror, “Sorry Miss, that’s a bit much for me. The wife would skin me alive for listening to something like that with a lady in the car.”
I nod absently, the ice in my gut rushing through my entire body. Why is there a recording of our conversations? What’s this shit about a personal collection?
I thought those were private, just Derrick and me. I guess he never said that, but obviously I assumed. Why wouldn’t they be? And why would he play them on the air?
Oh god, I’ve been getting played this entire time. The thought hits me like a grenade in the stomach, and the shakes start. I’m barely keeping it together when the taxi pulls up to Elise’s apartment and she’s outside waiting for me.
“I can tell by the look on your face that you already know. What the fuck is happening, Kat?”
Her matter of fact tone gives me some stability, and I hug myself, shaking my head. “I don’t know. That’s us, our private conversations. Why?”
Elise gives the cab driver his fare, and leads me into her place. “I don’t know what’s going on, but that shit’s not okay.”
“Why would he even record them in the first place?” I ask softly, hurt and confused. “I . . . they weren’t meant for the public, they were me baring my heart to him.”
Elise looks at me with pity, then sighs. “Well I could see why he would, they’re pretty fucking hot. Maybe he was just recording them for later . . . spank bank type deal?”
I snort, if Derrick needed spank bank material all he had to do was give me a call, the way we’ve gotten it on over the past few weeks. “He never told me he was recording me, us. Oh god, Elise! He played it on the air, everyone heard me have an orgasm and tell how hungry for his cock I am. He said my name!”
The last fact saps the last of my reserve and I dissolve into tears. Elise does what she can as she gathers me up, pulling me into a hug. I collapse on the couch and she covers me with a blanket, mistaking my shivers of heartbreak as cold. “It’ll be okay, Kat. I listened to the first couple before calling you, he said your name, but there’s gotta be what, a million ‘Kats’? Nobody can prove it was you.”
She rushes into the kitchen, making me a cup of coffee but I just hold it, not able to take a sip with my heart in my throat.
“People will know,” I whisper. “God, he’s been to my place, I’ve been to his. Kevin knows I’ve been with him . . . it’ll get out, Elise. If Kevin knows, he’ll make sure of it. It’ll get out, and I’ll be ruined.”
Elise slips an arm around my shoulders, hugging me from the side. “You need to call him. Figure out what the hell is going on!”
I sigh, looking into the black mirror that is the surface of my coffee. “You’re right. Maybe there’s some reason . . ..” I look up at Elise again, but the truth is clearly written on her face. “Guess not, huh?”
Elise shakes her head. “Damn it, Kat. I’m so sorry. I pushed you into this, I really thought he was a good guy with all the things you said about him.”