London Calling

Mild version readers, this isn’t for you; it’s very spicy—even a tad spicier than anything in the actual story.

I wrote this “naughty bit” vignette before I started work on Chapter 1 of AUS. At the time, I was practicing fiction writing (something new for me) and also getting to know my characters by writing random scenes. I intended this scene to be an angsty phone call, but then William asked Elizabeth what she was wearing, and it was off to the races!

Since then, I’ve revised it to fit better into the story’s writing style and characterizations as they evolved over time. This vignette takes place midway through the events of Chapter 138, while William is in London; that chapter contains a quick reference to what happens here.


It was after midnight by the time William returned to his hotel. A gala reception had been held after the concert to benefit the London Symphony Orchestra, and William had stayed to meet and be photographed with the guests. He was pleased with the evening: he had played well, the audience reaction had been enthusiastic, and he had been fortunate at the reception to be surrounded by good conversationalists, relieving him of the responsibility for initiating small talk.

As he strolled down the hall towards his suite, by force of habit he envisioned Elizabeth at his side, her hand in his as they discussed the events of the evening. Her phantom presence helped to assuage his loneliness, as did the knowledge that she was in New York awaiting his return. He could almost feel the warmth and pressure of her palm against his, their fingers entwined.

Once inside his suite, he hung his cashmere overcoat in the closet and slipped off his tailcoat, vest, and bow tie, draping them neatly over a chair. Service at the Savoy was top-notch, and the butler had left a crystal decanter of his favorite cognac. He poured a glass and sank gratefully into an armchair near the window. After kicking off his shoes, he settled back into the chair and propped his feet on the coffee table, savoring the view of the city lights reflected in the river. A lamp glowing in the far corner cast long, deep shadows across the room.

He sipped his cognac slowly, enjoying the serenity of the moment, and allowed his mind to drift. Predictably, it drifted to Elizabeth. He consulted his watch. Half an hour until the agreed-upon time for their phone call.

He closed his eyes and imagined her sitting in the chair next to his, her eyes sparkling with mischief, teasing him about something he had said after the concert. He would reach out to take her hand, pulling her out of the chair and onto his lap. Once she was cradled in his arms, he would kiss that teasing expression off her face; her eyes would become soft with tenderness as he kissed her and held her close.

He floated in a contented state until he was jarred into consciousness by a loud voice in the hall. He checked his watch again: it was almost time. He ambled into the bedroom and set his glass of cognac on the bedside table. The light from the bedside lamp seemed too harsh. He frowned at it for a moment, and then remembered the large candle he had seen in the living room. With the help of a pack of matches he found int he bar area, he soon had it lit, casting faint light and deep shadows in the bedroom. He nodded in approval. Candlelight, a smooth, rich cognac—now all he needed was Elizabeth.

He undressed for bed, hanging his trousers in the closet. Then, in a sudden flash of inspiration, he retrieved the navy blue silk boxers Elizabeth had given him for Valentine’s Day. He wasn’t sure what impulse had led him to pack them for the trip, but wearing them tonight would make him feel as though she might emerge at any moment from the bathroom to join him. He stepped into the boxers, enjoying the sensuous whisper of the silk against his legs and hips, and imagined that Elizabeth was watching him, her body softly illuminated in the flickering candlelight.

William’s body responded to this erotic image. He imagined her in the doorway, her lush cleavage revealed by the plunging neckline of the gown, her gaze raking slowly down his body. He saw her strolling toward him, her hair framing her face in a cloud of dark curls, a look of heated invitation in her eyes, and he groaned as a surge of pure lust ripped through him.

It was time to call her, but he was in danger of panting like a crazed beast the moment he heard her voice; she might mistake him for a pervert breathing heavily into the phone. He grinned; at least he’d be unique if that happened. It wasn’t every day that someone received a trans-Atlantic obscene phone call!

He folded back the duvet covering the bed and, phone in hand, lay down with a deep sigh, luxuriating in the comfort of the soft bed and dim lighting. While the call was connecting, he reached for his cognac. A few drops splashed from the glass onto his bare torso, and he imagined Elizabeth leaning over and licking them off. The image shredded his half-hearted attempt to regain control.

When she answered the phone, he drawled, “Hello, cara.”

“Hi, Will. How are you?”

“Miserable, without you.”

“I miss you, too,” she sighed.

“How was your dinner?”

“It was fun. Sally’s doing great; she got a callback for a production of Little Shop of Horrors. How did the concerts go?”

“Everything went well. The orchestra is excellent, and the audiences reacted well.”

“I wish I’d been there. I bought a new dress today, for the trip to St. Louis, that I could have worn. I think you’ll like it.”

“I’m sure I will. I’d like you in anything. Or in nothing,” he murmured. “Tell me, what are you wearing right now?”

She laughed. “You don’t want to know.”

He grinned broadly, settling back into the pillows. “Ah—probably one of your big shirts with ink stains?”

“Like I said, you don’t want to know. I doubt it’s precisely the visual image you were hoping for.”

“Any image of you makes me happy, including you in that old shirt. Still, I did have something a little more … inspiring … in mind.”

“If you want, I can search my closet for inspiration.”

He chuckled. “No need—I have a vivid imagination where you’re concerned. In fact, I’m imagining you pulling the shirt over your head right now, and you’re naked underneath.”

“I can tell what you have on your mind tonight.” He could hear the smile in her voice.

“I can’t help it,” he sighed. “I miss you, and I love you, and I want you. And I’m lying in this huge bed all alone. You should be here with me.”

“Mmmm. You, lying in a huge bed. I like that image,” she purred. “So, what are you  wearing?”

“I was hoping you’d ask. You know those silk boxers you gave me for Valentine’s Day?”

“You’re wearing those?” she asked, sounding a bit breathless.

“Mmm hmm.”

“Stretched out on the bed wearing just those shorts, and nothing else?”

“That’s right.”

“You must look good enough to eat. I wish I were there with you.”

“So do I,” he groaned. Double entendres weren’t usually her style, but that one had sounded intentional.

“I’d love to be in bed with you right now, Will,” she continued in a soft, seductive voice. “If I were there, I’d kiss that special spot behind your ear. And I’d nibble your neck. You have the most delicious neck.”

He imagined her soft lips pressing against his neck, moving down towards his shoulder. He moaned softly, deep in his throat, as warmth spread down his neck to his chest.

“But if I were in bed with you, you wouldn’t be wearing those shorts for long,” Elizabeth murmured.

“Is that so?” He closed his eyes briefly, imagining the feeling of her soft, ripe body against his. Heat coursed through him, and he drew an unsteady breath.

“I know I wouldn’t be able to resist slipping my hands inside the shorts and touching you. And then I’d slide them slowly over your hips and down your legs. And you’d feel the silk against your skin, and my hands caressing you.”

He bit his lip and shuddered, imagining her delicate hands moving languidly over his body. He was fully aroused, almost painfully so, and the shorts had become uncomfortably constricting. He slipped them off and lay naked on the bed, sweating slightly, his muscles taut.

“Then I’d run my hands over your chest. I love your chest—it’s so beautiful. I love resting my head on it, and tracing lines on it with my fingers, and kissing that little scar that reminds me of your tender heart. And I’d taste your nipples. Would you like that?”

“Yes,” he gasped. He could actually feel her tongue grazing his nipple. “Oh, Lizzy, yes.” He closed his eyes, delirious with arousal, and lost himself in the power of his imagination. She was there, in his room, in his bed, her hands and mouth pleasuring him, her satiny skin glowing in the flickering candlelight. He was helpless against the torrent of desire flooding his senses.

“Then I’d stroke your stomach. It’s so firm and taut, and the skin is so smooth. Your body is so sexy, Will—I love touching you all over.”

He groaned, his abdominal muscles contracting as he felt her hands moving seductively over his lower torso, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. “I need you, Lizzy, so much.”

“And I love tasting you, too. So I’d run my tongue along your stomach. Your skin is so warm and salty. Mmmm, I love that. And I’d flick my tongue into your bellybutton.”

His hips lifted slightly off the bed, his breathing rapid and shallow. Every muscle in his body tensed as he felt the warm, wet trail of her tongue moving downward.

“Next I’d stroke your thighs. They’re so beautiful, so strong.”

His thigh muscles twitched and his legs fell apart slightly. His skin tingled everywhere from her caresses, and his erection was throbbing wildly. He circled his hips, moaning.

“And then I’d take you in my hand. You’re so big, so hard, so beautiful, Will. I love touching you. I love the way your eyes close when I stroke you, and the sounds that you make.”

His hand involuntarily strayed downward.

“Can you feel me touching you?” she whispered.

“Yes. Oh, yes.” He was unable to deny himself the relief that he so desperately needed. He imagined her leaning over him, and he felt her hand curl around his shaft, stroking along its length. Waves of exquisite pleasure rolled through his body.

“Our bodies are so close together. Can you feel my body pressing against yours?”

“Mmmm.” He couldn’t manage a more coherent response. In his mind he saw himself feasting on her voluptuous breasts, kissing, licking, and suckling them as she writhed against him, crying his name. The hand stroking him—her hand—was moving faster now, driving him to shuddering heights.

“I love the way you feel in my hands.”

“Lizzy,” he moaned, a desperate plea in his voice. His body writhed against the inferno her touch had ignited, and he felt the intense pleasure beginning to crest, spiraling higher and higher.

“You’re so beautiful, Will. I can’t resist anymore—I have to take you into my mouth. Can you feel my lips surrounding you?”

He groaned loudly and exploded, his hips jerking convulsively as he rode an overwhelming wave of ecstasy. Then the tension drained out of his body, leaving him weak and gasping. After a long moment, her voice came through the phone, piercing the sensual fog in which he was lost.

“Will? Are you okay?”

He forced himself to answer, his voice breathless and shaky. “Yes. Need … a minute.” He lay on the bed trembling and breathing hard, clutching the phone tightly.

“If I were there right now,” she said, her voice a sweet caress, “you’d be in my arms, resting your head on my shoulder while you came back down to earth, and I’d be stroking your back, and smoothing away that curl that always falls on your forehead.”

William was enveloped by the deep contentment he found only in her arms. As his mind gradually cleared, a mischievous smile spread across his face. “You’re a naughty girl,” he chuckled. “You knew perfectly well what you were doing to me.”

She was silent for a moment, and then, in a diffident tone, said, “Will?”


“Seriously, was it … okay that I did that? I mean, I really don’t know what came over me. I just started thinking about you lying there wearing the boxers, and I remembered Valentine’s Day when you modeled them for me, and, well, I just … You must think I’m shameless and brazen and—”

“What I think, cara, is that you’re the most wonderful woman in the world. When I said you were naughty, that was not  a criticism. You’re incredibly sexy, and you drive me crazy. And I’m thrilled to know that maybe I drive you a little crazy too.”

“More than a little,” she admitted.

“Good. I hope I’ve shown you more than once how much it excites me when you take the initiative with sex.”

“But I can’t believe that we had … well, phone sex! And I’m the one who started it? I never thought I’d do something like that.”

“It was a first for me too, but I hope it won’t be the last,” he said, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “Besides, I’m really the one who started it by asking what you were wearing.”

“You just made that up about the boxer shorts, didn’t you?” Elizabeth sounded skeptical. “You don’t really have them with you.”

“Yes, I do,” William assured her. “And I had them on when I called you, just like I said.”

“But not now?”

“No. Not now. Some naughty girl teased me until I simply had to take them off.”

“So you’re lying there naked right now?”

“That’s right.”

Elizabeth sighed. “But aren’t you cold without anybody to warm you up?”

“If you start talking that way again, I’ll be plenty warm in a hurry,” William chuckled. “But I do need to get up for a minute. Will you wait?”

“Of course.”

William went into the bathroom and quickly prepared for bed. Returning to the bedroom, he slipped back into the boxer shorts, blew out the candle, and climbed into bed, pulling the covers tightly around him.

He picked up the phone with a contented sigh. “There. That’s better.”

“You sound comfortable,” she said, a wistful tone in her voice.

“I am, except that you’re not here.”

“Well, then, let’s take advantage of that vivid imagination of yours,” she suggested. “Picture me there, snuggled in your arms, stroking your hair, and kissing your forehead.”

“Mmmmm. That feels nice,” he mumbled sleepily, his eyes half closed.

“I think we’d better say goodnight before you fall asleep.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too. Goodnight.”

“‘Night.” He hung up the phone, sated and exhausted. He could feel her warmth nestled against him as they sank together into the softness of the large bed. Just before he fell into a deep and peaceful sleep, he whispered, “Tomorrow night, Lizzy, it’s going to be your turn.”