Home > PS... You’re Mine(14)

PS... You’re Mine(14)
Author: Alexa Riley



I hang up the phone and lean back in my chair, sighing. I close my eyes and let the sound of my name coming out of her sinful mouth roll around in my head. “Alex, Alex, Alex.” I envision her saying it over and over as I drive into her. The thought has me ready to cum all over again, and I reach over to grab a box of tissues to clean up the cum from the orgasm I already had.

After the first time I heard her voice and had her read a scene for me, I started keeping a box of tissues close by. With every syllable out of her mouth, I got harder and harder until I finally had to mute the phone and rub one out. I couldn’t stand it, her voice driving me beyond wild. I’ve never reacted to a voice the way I do to Noelle’s and the more I hear her, the more I want her.

I’ve been living in this cabin in Montana for a few years now. I started my company, All for You, a few years ago, after the accident.

The accident.

I worked as a publicist for a publishing house in New York, working with authors and agents. One day when I was on my way home from work, I was crossing the street in front of my apartment and was hit by a car. The driver never saw me, and all my doctors said I was lucky to be alive. The accident left a good portion of my body scarred up, including one side of my face. It took months to heal, and afterwards, I felt cramped and claustrophobic in the big city. The scarring was too much for me to handle out in public, and I needed to get away from the noise.

I wanted to work from home, and audiobooks were something I’d helped a few authors with before. So I started my company to help my clients find the perfect fit for their audiobooks, and before I knew it I had a long list of people needing my services.

I bought my cabin out in Montana a few years before the accident, visiting as often as I could but not as much as I liked. When I was well enough, I decided to ditch the Big Apple and go live the way I wanted to. My parents and sister still live back in New York, loving the bustling metropolis. At first they were sad I was leaving, but I think they understood my need for isolation. I enjoyed being on my own a lot before, but after the accident, it was difficult to be in public. But technology is great, and it allows me to keep in touch with them. I usually visit them about once a year, and it’s enough for me. We all call and email, but I like my solitude. They ask me every year about coming home for Christmas, and I have a couple of times. But every year I’ve gone home, all I can think about is getting back to my quiet cabin in the woods.

I’ve grown my business, and now I have a wait list of authors wanting my services. I take one of their books and help match them up with the perfect reader. Normally, I tweak them when necessary, but otherwise, I make the match for them and move on to the next.

Until Noelle.

The first time I heard her audition, I was looking for a female voice for one of my clients’ spy thrillers. She submitted her resumé, and I sent her a voice sample, wanting to see if she would fit his needs. The sample I sent her was completely tame, just a chapter about the heroine’s research on the case. But every tone in Noelle’s voice made my cock hard. It sounded as if she was speaking directly to me, and it sent vibrations through my bones. The most unassuming chapter she could have ever read came alive with emotions I never knew were possible.

That day I hired her on and started using her for all the female parts I needed. After a while, though, I needed more. I had to have something deeper from Noelle.

I started scouring romance authors who had audiobook needs, and I picked up a few clients. I would pore over books until I found the sweetest, dirtiest ones possible and save specific sections for her to read. I turned all my attention to this side of the business, focusing on Noelle and her voice work in romance. My own selfish needs taking over, and consuming me.

I would record her reading to me over the phone so I could play it back again every night before I went to bed, always being too worked up during her live reading to fully take in every detail of her words. I find that when I play it back at night, I can hear so much more than what she’s reading; I can hear her sensual melody as I fall asleep.

After the first time I had her read a romance book, I found myself unable to send it to the author. Instead, I used someone else for the audiobook. I couldn’t bring myself to share Noelle’s voice with anyone else, and I know that was crazy. I’ve been paying her to record audiobooks for months, but I’ve never sent any of her work to an author, instead paying her out of my own money and using another reader for the job.

I’d made plenty of money in my life so that if I never worked again and only paid Noelle to read to me, she could until the end of time and I wouldn’t be hurting for the cash. As it is, I’ve pretty much stopped taking all jobs unless they revolve around Noelle and her voice.

The best part of my day is picking up the phone to call her. I get hard before I even dial the number. She sent her picture with her online resumé, and I’m just sad enough to admit that I printed it out and it’s on my desk. I look at it as she reads to me over the phone and I slowly stroke myself.

Even after she’s finished getting me off, and I sit there, trying to catch my breath, just hearing her go on about her day and life makes me the happiest man in the world. What I wouldn’t give to touch her.

Shutting down that thought, I stand up and throw the cum-covered tissue away and button up my jeans. I walk out back, grabbing the axe on the back porch, and go to chop some wood. It will help keep my mind busy while I try not to think about things I can’t have.

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