Page 47 of West Bound

I close my eyes at the sound of skin on sheets and the soft moan she makes through the remaining earbud.

“Oh,” she cries softly through the speaker. “Mmmm.” I can hear the muted sound of her licking her lips. There's another rustle of fabric, like she’s pulling her pillow closer. A muffled moan comes through, and Zephyrine, the corporeal version in the here and now, hits the pause button on my phone.

I open my eyes and do my best not to look like I’ve been caught with my fucking pants down. I’d at least managed to keep my dignity there.

“You send me to bed, and then you listen to me getting off?”

I give her half a nod and sit back against the cushions of the couch. I’m ready for whatever lecture I’m going to get about how inappropriate I am. How fucked up this is. How I’ve broken her trust by having these.

“When did you record this?”

“I don’t know exactly. I’d have to look it up on the file. A couple of weeks in. Does it matter?”

“I was just trying to figure out if I’d been thinking about you or not.”

I cough or choke. I don’t know which exactly, but her bluntness catches me wholly off guard, and I have to stop to catch my breath.

“What? Wouldn’t you like it better if I were?” She gives me a look of mock concern that’s highlighted by the moonlight streaming in. I’d never considered the possibility it was anyone else—especially after her confession.

“In my head, you’re always doing it for me, sweetheart. If I thought it was another man, I’d kill him and make sure it was. Hypothetically speaking.”

She stares at me through the dim light for a long moment before she speaks again.

“How does this help you sleep?”

“It lets me get my mind off everything else. Relax a little. I don’t always sleep. Not a deep sleep anyway, but that twilight phase that at least gets me feeling a little rested until I can down some black coffee in the morning.”

“I had insomnia for a while too. It’s awful.”

“It is,” I agree.

She hits play again, and the recording ends, turning over to a new one. There’s another soft intake of breath, and a muffled moan echoes through my eardrum, but this one is different. It’s one I forgot I made. An accident I should have deleted considering it’s about to bite me in the ass.

“Fuck you sound so pretty when you moan,” I groan through the recording.

If I were capable of blushing like her, I would be. I slam the pause button, and she scowls at me, hitting play again. I recoil when I hear my voice come through again.

“I love listening to you touch yourself late at night like this. It's the best part of the job. I can only imagine how wet you get. How desperate you are to be touched. The way it bleeds through in the sound of your breathing and the soft gasps you make.” I sound fucking obsessed with her.

I hit the pause button again.

“I think we can skip this one. It’s just me making voice notes to myself while I was working.”

“Absolutely fucking not.” She presses play.

“That’s it, little nun. Keep going.” I encourage the past version of her as I listen to her touch herself. The sound of a zipper being drawn down comes through the line. It’s very clearly mine. “Oh fuck, I need this.” I groan low and heavy intothe mic. There’s a long exhale and the obvious sound of me palming my cock in the background of my heavy breathing.

I slam the pause button one last time and snatch the phone up off the table. I’d completely forgotten that this one has my running commentary.

“Don’t! Please?” Zephyrine’s hand goes to my wrist as I shove the phone into my pocket.

“Why do you want to listen to that?” Maybe she has a thing for humiliating men. I don’t know. I imagine you might develop a taste for it after being married to a man like Corey, but I can do without her experimenting on me.

“Because it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”

I make a dismissive sound at the back of my throat, and she squeezes my wrist.

“I’m serious.”