I put a spell on you

My book, ‘I put a spell on you’, has just received some more lovely feedback on Amazon, so I thought it was worth a share with you all, just in case you haven’t read this one! I’ve included the first two chapters for your amusement.

“Well written and so flipping hot!”
“I read this book into the night. I could not put it down. It was funny, engaging and so very sexy.
Good job, Ms Ashworth!”
“Terrific. Ashworth’s storytelling is skillful and engaging, with interesting characters and impeccable pacing. Here more than her other books, her sense of humor rises in wonderful ways as she once again, makes an admittedly improbable event completely relatable and very funny. I’ll look forward to rereading this one day. Highly recommended!”
“Hot, hot, hot!”

Available from Amazon.com, Amazon.co.uk, Amazon.com.au and Amazon.ca.

Is it possible to lust after somebody, having only ever heard their voice?

For Becky Andrews, the answer to that question becomes a very definitive “YES”, when she finds herself receiving a misdialled call one day. The man on the other end of the line has the sexiest, most confident, delectable tones that she has ever had the privilege to encounter. Unfortunately, when their conversation ends, Becky replaces the receiver without even knowing his name, yet alone his relationship status.

Following a combination of good luck and happy circumstance, Becky and “phone guy” are soon back in contact with each other. Thanks to two bottles of wine and a little friendly encouragement from her best mate, a nervous Becky accepts a dinner invitation from the man himself. Sparks immediately fly between them, setting the scene for a night of playful fun and intensely hot passion.

If only Becky’s interfering ex boyfriend could stop being quite so overly concerned in her affairs, the course of true love might be allowed to run smoothly.

Unless this perfect stranger is not quite what he seems, after all?


Chapter 1

Becky stared at the bright screen in quiet disbelief, feeling her cheeks flush further with every passing second.  Her sparkling, aqua-marine eyes flashed nervously towards the downstairs study window.  Content that nobody could observe her activities from outside, her attention once more returned to her laptop.  Daringly, she shifted the volume setting from mute to low, only to discover her home echoing with the sound of a woman enjoying an extremely noisy orgasm.  Observing the actress writhing on the crisp white sheets, Becky shook her head in silent disbelief, wondering why the hell she’d signed up to this project in the first place.

Having just landed a contract that had the potential to make some serious money, she should have been celebrating.  Creating trailers for independent productions was a hard market to crack.  Thanks to a lucky chance, it turned out that she was acquainted with one of the company directors, resulting in Becky being handed what had the potential to become her big break.  But she would need to put aside her embarrassment about the content, as well as her “good girl” frame of reference.  Taking a swift inhale, her internal monologue firmly laid down the law; she needed to man up.  Something the lead actor in the film she was currently perusing, apparently had no difficulty whatsoever in doing.  Surely nobody had a cock that big, did they?  It must be surgically enhanced…

All of a sudden, the shrill ring of the telephone interrupted her musings.  Jumping as though she’d been caught partaking in a highly illegal activity, Becky quickly paused the film and made a grab for her phone.

‘H…hello,’ she said tentatively, twisting her long dark hair through her fingers.

‘Hey there,’ spoke a man’s voice.  She was sure it was quite unintentional, but he had the sexiest, most seductive tone Becky had ever heard.  With a slight Irish lilt, her mind immediately surrendered to images of melted chocolate, long passionate kisses and intensely hot, sticky nights.  Watching porn all day was clearly having a serious effect on her psyche.  Swallowing laboriously, she found no words with which to respond.

‘Please bear with me,’ he continued after a brief pause.  ‘Because I might have the wrong number…this handwriting is atrocious.  Are you Stacey?’

‘Ummm, no.  I’m Rebecca Andrews,’ she managed to croak.  ‘Sorry.’  For the first time in her life, Becky really did feel sorry that was her name, if being called Stacey meant listening to his honeyed tones for just a single minute longer.  With a sigh of regret, she leant heavily on her keyboard.  Her unintended movement accidentally nudged the film back into life, once more filling the room with sounds of intense, sexual pleasure, this time at full volume.

‘Fuck me harder!’ shrieked a woman’s voice, pitched just at the point of climax.

‘Oh baby,’ growled the deep-voiced actor, clearly not far behind.

‘Oh shit!’ muttered Becky, as low, rich laughter rang out through the phone.  For a moment, her thoughts went completely blank and she forgot how to silence the unwanted audio.  When Becky finally achieved this, her mind was pulsing with embarrassment and humiliation, whilst her face was almost puce.

‘Is everything okay?’ the man asked, in a tone of distinct amusement.

‘Yeah.’  With her head resting in one hand she closed her eyes and sighed.  ‘It’s a long story.’

‘Which I’d much rather listen to, than do what I’m doing.’  A long pause followed this statement, during which the man sat quietly, waiting for Becky to respond.  At last, highly flustered, she conceded.

‘I make trailers for movies and I’m just starting a new contract for adult films.’

‘Yeah, so I gathered,’ he chuckled.  She couldn’t help but grin, in response to his clear delight.

‘To be honest,’ she continued, with a swift sigh of despair.  ‘I’m more than a little out of my depth here.  I’ve never covered this…genre before.’

‘Me neither,’ he laughed.  ‘Can you sum the entire film up in a few words?’

‘Rubbish acting, bad storyline, really shit dialogue,’ she giggled, growing in confidence as their conversation developed, despite the subject matter.

‘Well, my first suggestion is not to use that as the tag line for the film,’ he said seriously, although Becky could hear the broad smile shining through his tone.  It sent a wave of pleasure washing through her body and the insistent pulse, which had already commenced between her legs, grew even stronger.

‘What a pity,’ she chuckled in return.  ‘That was the most positive review it received.’

‘And there’s dialogue?’ he asked, in mock surprise.

‘Kind of…’ she replied, before they both started to laugh together.

The man must have heard the despondency in Becky’s voice, because at that moment, a shuffling movement began to resonate down the phone.

‘One sec,’ he requested, his footsteps echoing down a hallway.  Becky sat there in silence, trying to imagine what this glorious stranger looked like.  He had certainly oozed charm and confidence during their conversation, leading her to believe he was pretty downright sexy…or at least, he thought he was.

‘It’s all about the deliberate tease,’ he murmured seductively, having installed himself somewhere more private.

‘I’m…sorry?’ she stuttered nervously, cheeks now flushing for quite a different reason.

‘You’ve got to tease the audience, like you would a lover.  Provide a series of two second flashes of content; they should be provocative images, but not sex scenes.  Don’t include any dialogue…especially if it’s really shit,’ he chuckled.  ‘Finally, overlay it with some seriously sultry music… the right track can escalate you straight from zero to hero, or vice versa.’

‘Right…um.’  Becky’s mind was awash with lust, confusion and hormones.  Beyond that, she recognised that the advice he was offering, was actually very sound.

‘On your dream date, with your dream guy, what would you like to slow dance to?’

‘I’m sorry?’ she gasped.

‘The music,’ he explained patiently.  ‘Select a track you’d like to slow dance to.  My personal choice would be ‘I put a spell on you’.’

‘How do you know all this?’ she eventually managed to squeak.  ‘You’re in telesales, aren’t you?’

‘Yeah, tele-something,’ he grinned.  ‘Speaking of which, I’d better get back to it.  The bastards record everything I do.’

‘Oh!  Okay,’ she replied, feeling overwhelmingly disappointed.  ‘It was really nice talking to you and thanks so much for your help.’

‘It was my pleasure to talk to you, Rebecca.’  His tongue wrapped around her name in the most delectable way.  Never had it sounded more alluring.  ‘Have a great day.  Goodbye.’

‘Bye,’ sighed Becky, closing the call.  That was the problem with the modern world, she mused dejectedly.  So many missed opportunities.  Or maybe it was just her inability to make something out of the interactions she did have?  Breathing in deeply, Becky attempted to pull herself together, setting her focus firmly back on the job in hand.  Unfortunately, for the remainder of the day, every moment spent with that blessed film was accompanied by the lyrics of “I put a spell on you”, ringing their way through her consciousness.  One thing was for sure; he had certainly done that.


Becky was still thinking about her mystery caller later that evening, as she lay sprawled on her sofa, mindlessly watching some depressingly predictable reality television programme.  All the incredibly beautiful, and apparently extremely hot and horny contestants, were housed at a luxury tropical retreat for two months.  But as the saying went, there was no such thing as a free lunch, or in their case, a free holiday.  The rules they had to abide by whilst there, was to avoid sexual contact of any kind.  Becky couldn’t help but chuckle to herself, as they were made aware of the rules and uproar ensued.  Not having sex for two days was apparently an impossible ask of these beautiful, young creatures, yet alone two months.  

Becky had no doubt whatsoever that, had she been on the island with them, she would have won the cash prize hands down.  And done so, without even breaking a sweat.  She hadn’t had sex for well over two years now…and counting.  The shrill ring of the doorbell broke her train of thought.  Glancing up at the clock in surprise, Becky wondered who on earth would be calling on her at a quarter to nine on a Monday evening.  Muting the television, she pulled herself upright and sauntered towards the front door.

With the security chain secured, Becky slowly opened the door and peered through the crack.

‘Becks,’ said a voice she knew so well.  Indeed, it was wholly responsible for her current sexual drought.  ‘Can I come in?’

‘Oh.  Hi,’ she replied, glancing up at her visitor in confusion.  ‘One moment.’

Closing the door, she removed the chain, taking the opportunity to inhale deeply as she did so.  Becky had been contemplating an early night, so a visit from anybody, particularly her ex-boyfriend, was something she could well have done without.  Despite this, she fixed a smile on her face and pulled the door open.

‘Come in, Ben.’

‘Thanks, Becks,’ he replied.  Sending her a winning smile, he strolled confidently towards her lounge, affording Becky a whiff of the aftershave he always wore, as he passed her.  The smell immediately conjured up memories of their six years together; the highs, the lows, the trudge of everyday life, the pain.  It was funny how a simple scent could be quite so evocative.

‘How are you?’ she queried, following behind him and taking a seat at the far end of the sofa he had flopped down onto.  She observed him critically; tall and slim, with sandy blond hair and baby blue eyes, which she’d always had a weakness for.  And yet, now when she looked at him, he wasn’t perhaps as perfect as she’d always considered him to be.  Displaying crooked teeth, which he’d always been self-conscious about, the smile which used to warm her heart, now made him look like he was trying too hard.

‘Really great, thanks,’ he nodded, shrugging off his jacket and fixing her with a gaze that had once held so much promise.

For the millionth time, Becky doubted the astuteness of her decision to remain friends with Ben.  But he had been such a big part of her life for so long that, immediately following their breakup, just letting go completely had felt like an impossible request.  As a result, they had quickly fallen into a platonic friendship, which was initially as confusing as it was painful.  At the time, it still felt better than the alternative though, which would have been to lose him altogether.  Silently reprimanding herself for her weakness, Becky had to admit that these days, their bond had turned into more of a rut, than a necessity.

It had been well over two years since their relationship disintegrated, thanks to Ben’s inability to prevent himself from shagging one of her best mates.  At school, Becky had been part of a close knit group of ten friends, comprised of both boys and girls.  Ben had been a member of that group and, throughout those early years, there had been no denying their mutual attraction.  Becky could still remember now, how they’d danced around each other, nearly but not quite kissing.  Almost taking the plunge to go out on a date, and then failing to do so.  This has been due, at least in part, to the younger Becky acknowledging that Ben was a bit of a player; if only her adult emotions had been as mature, she would have saved herself a great deal of heartbreak.

As the group fragmented, scattering out to different universities and work-based apprenticeships, links naturally started to become broken.  Becky managed to keep in touch with a good number of her childhood friends, including her best friend, Liz.  However, Ben was one member of the group that she lost contact with.  That was until a chance encounter some ten years previously, when they’d randomly bumped into each other on the same train journey.  Sparks immediately flew between them and the rest, as they say, was history.  Or at least it had been, until he had a change of heart and started to cheat on Becky with another member of their childhood group; his now-partner, Sian.

‘So…’ began Becky, anxious to break the uncomfortable silence and move their meeting towards a swift conclusion.  ‘What brings you here?’  It was marginally more polite than “What do you want?”  Marginally.

‘I wanted to give you this, in person,’ said Ben seriously.  Becky watched him slowly remove an envelope from his inside jacket pocket, with a mounting feeling of ominous dread.

‘What is it?’ she asked, unenthusiastically accepting it.

‘It’s an invitation to…’ he began, but his words quickly petered out to nothing.  Becky had seen that look of extreme discomfort before and felt a prickle of distress.

Quickly ripping open the envelope, as one would remove a band-aid, Becky gazed at the buff-coloured card she had uncovered.  She could feel Ben’s eyes carefully fixed upon her and felt a corresponding chill drift up her spinal column, where it prickled and danced uncomfortably across the fine hairs on the back of her neck.  It took Becky a moment to fully appreciate what she was looking at; the loopy writing and silver font made it quite difficult to read.

‘You and Sian are having an engagement party,’ she said in a monotone voice, devoid of all emotion.

It wasn’t like she hadn’t been aware of her ex-boyfriend’s recent engagement via the grapevine, but to receive something printed and formal somehow made it seem all the more real.

‘Yes,’ he admitted quietly.  ‘And we’d like you to join us.’

‘It’s next Friday?  Why such short notice?  You haven’t gone and got her pregnant, have you?’ smiled Becky, attempting to use humour to hide her true emotions.  For a moment, Ben gazed at her aghast.

‘Oh my God!’ she murmured, her hand rising to cover her mouth.  ‘You have?’

‘No…no, of course not,’ he stuttered.  Ironically now an expert in reading his lies, Becky wasn’t convinced, but she decided to let it go.  After all, it really wasn’t any of her business.

‘So, why so last minute?’ she queried.

‘We’ve got some spare capacity…’

‘Aaahhhh,’ smiled Becky.  ‘You need me to pad out the numbers?’

‘No, nothing like that.’

‘What then?’

‘Well, a lot of our oldest mates are refusing to join in and celebrate, out of respect for you.’

Becky couldn’t help but bathe in the warm glow that filled her abdomen, and silently thanked them for their unspoken support.

‘But, if you were to attend…to show there’s no hard feelings?’

Becky looked up at him questioningly.

‘There aren’t any hard feelings, are there Becks?’ he queried, sending her his most encouraging smile.

‘No,’ she replied easily, attempting a small smile of her own which came across as more of a wince.  Not for the first time, she questioned her sanity at keeping the communication channels open.  There was a reason that most people didn’t stay friends with their exes, particularly in circumstances like theirs.  Truthfully, she didn’t despise either him or Sian, even when many would.  But she didn’t particularly want to celebrate their love either, not when her own happiness had been a direct victim.  ‘But it doesn’t sound hugely sensible.  What does Sian think?’

‘She really wants all of our school friends, from our old group, to be there.’

Becky breathed out noisily, as she attempted to gather her thoughts regarding the many and varied ways that this idea was not a particularly good one.

‘Please Becky,’ interrupted Ben, unexpectedly taking her hand in his own and stroking his long fingers gently against her palm.  Becky jumped at the unexpected contact.  ‘Let’s show everyone that what happened is water under the bridge and formally close this whole sorry chapter?  Nothing would make me happier than for you to join us at the party, and have a really good time.  Please?’

‘Sure,’ she mumbled, hastily removing her hand from his grasp.  After all, she didn’t want to be the reason to divide their long-standing group of friends.  ‘I’ll be there.’

‘Thank you so much!  And of course,’ he added, with the confident smile of a man who knew she was perpetually single.  ‘You’re very welcome to attend with a date.’

‘Ha!  I might just take you up on that,’ she said, flashing her eyebrows at him.

‘I need to give you a hug,’ he announced, quickly shuffling along the sofa and wrapping Becky up into his arms, before she had a chance to realise what was happening.  The moment he pulled her against his chest, Becky felt her resolve weaken.  She didn’t get many hugs these days, and Ben’s had always been most welcome.  Closing her eyes, she momentarily allowed his strength to overwhelm her.

‘Sometimes, I miss you, you know,’ he said ambiguously, causing an alarm bell to start ringing in Becky’s brain.  Sensibly taking note of it, she shuffled away from him and stood.

‘Well, as you said, that’s all water under the bridge now,’ she replied in an over-bright voice.  ‘And I’ve had a really long day.  I ought to hit the sack.’

‘Yes,’ he agreed, successfully hiding his shock that Becky was subtly asking him to leave.  ‘Of course.’

Less than ten minutes later, Becky found herself snuggled up in her double bed, cold and alone, with tears streaming down her cheeks.  It wasn’t that she was mourning what might have been with Ben, because she no longer yearned for him.  She now appreciated that he’d been leading her a merry dance for a significant proportion of her life.  Only a sadist would want to return to that.  However, his unexpected presence in her home and having his powerful arms wrapped around her…it had made her realise what she was missing out on, with somebody else.  His hug had served as a powerful reminder of just how lonely life could be.  Drawing her knees up into the foetal position, Becky sobbed, until her exhausted body finally fell into a dissatisfied, disturbed sleep.

Chapter 2

The following morning, Becky woke with a renewed sense of purpose.  Having cast Ben far from her thoughts, she barely paused all day, working solidly and efficiently.  Having taken the advice given to her by a certain mysterious caller, by the time the evening came around, the trailer was actually starting to hint at a half-decent film which somebody might be interested to see.  Carefully saving her work, Becky wandered into the kitchen, threw something which looked particularly lacklustre into the oven for dinner, and meandered back to her laptop.  She had half an hour before her meal for one would be ready…and as much as online dating depressed her as a concept, she felt obliged to put in at least some effort.  After all, under duress, she had paid for a three month subscription.

Logging into the dating site in question, Becky started to review the potential matches, which the system’s algorithm had clearly decided represented her happy ever after.  Flicking aimlessly through the photos, Becky couldn’t help but feel utterly uninspired.  Was this what society was destined to become?  A race which swiped either right or left, the outcome dictated by a person’s ability to write some amusing words, think up a risqué profile name, or take a selfie which didn’t automatically make you look like you had the potential to become a mass murderer?  What happened to meeting people in person?  Of letting fate determine whether you might bump into your perfect man by chance…all that romantic stuff she secretly yearned for.  At that moment, her telephone rang.

‘Thank God!’ breathed Becky, suddenly provided with a bona fide excuse to delay her enforced browsing.

As she reached for her telephone, for one wild moment, Becky’s heart leapt at the possibility that it might be the bloke with the insanely sexy voice, making contact once more.  Immediately, she censured herself; she was thirty-six years old, for goodness sake, not some naïve teenager.  But there was no doubt their interaction had impacted her; it must have done, given that he was her first thought, not the screwed up situation with Ben.  Perhaps that was simply the mark of a good salesman though, assuming that’s what the man had been?  To have the customer clamouring on your every word.  To build a desire within the caller; a need to keep talking together.  But he hadn’t sounded like a salesman…she’d thought he sounded like hope.  Excitement.  For one wild moment, he’d made her feel like it was Christmas morning…without the impending threat of cooking, washing up, unwanted house guests and unreturnable gifts, she acknowledged with a grin.

Glancing down at the caller ID, the chance that it might be him was immediately quashed, and she silently reprimanded herself for having such ridiculous thoughts.

‘Lizzy Lou!’ she squeaked.  In all honesty, a call from her best friend was just as welcome…well, almost.

‘Did you get an invite?’ asked Liz urgently.  Knowing each other so well, it was typical for conversations between the two of them to pick up as though they were already part way through, bypassing all the social niceties.

‘Yeah, yesterday.’

‘I got mine through the post today.  Fucking cheek!  What makes them think I want to celebrate their shitty engagement, when it was their dirty shenanigans that broke my best friend’s heart?’

‘It’s not a big deal…not now, at least,’ sighed Becky.  Of course, it had been the end of the world at the time.  ‘I’m going to show my face.’

‘Really?  Is that the best idea you’ve ever had?’ asked Liz gently.

‘Probably not, but at least it proves there are no hard feelings.’

‘But there should be hard feelings!’ her friend exclaimed protectively.  ‘When your partner of God knows how many years, runs off with one of your mates, you’re supposed to hate both of them!  Not celebrate their relationship!’

Becky rubbed her hand wearily across her face.  She knew Liz was right, of course, but sometimes life felt too short to hold grudges.  Plus, there was no denying how much her presence, and particularly the presence of their group of school friends, must mean to Sian and Ben, given that he was sent round last night to persuade her to join them.

‘I can’t hate him.  I don’t want to,’ admitted Becky sadly.

‘You don’t still love him though?  Not after the way he treated you?’

‘Sometimes, I’m not sure I know what I think,’ she sighed.  ‘But I can definitely confirm that I don’t love him anymore.’

‘I know what I’d do,’ said Liz with a grin.

‘Do I even want to hear this?’ asked Becky, finding it impossible not to smile back.

‘I’d attend the party looking utterly fabulous,’ replied her best friend, clearly on a roll.  ‘Make the bastard realise exactly what he’s lost.’

‘He’s not a bastard…’  It was true that every time she saw Ben, she was reminded of some of her very darkest, most painful days.  But to his relative credit, he had never been cruel.  Well, not purposefully anyway.  He was just incapable of refusing temptation.

‘Any guy who shags one of your mates, whilst he’s still with you, is a bastard.  Believe me,’ she said firmly, in a tone not to be argued with.

At that point, an alarm began to ring in the background.

‘Oh fuck!’ exclaimed Liz in a panic.  ‘I think the dinner might be on fire.  Speak later?’

‘Sure,’ giggled Becky.  Dropping her phone on the counter, she opened the oven and poked her meal unenthusiastically.  She wasn’t the world’s best cook, but at least she was eating more than a charcoaled lump tonight.  Poor Liz; domesticated bliss had never been her strong suit.  Fortunately, she had plenty of other characteristics which more than made up for her downfall in that area.  Tenacity was one of them; Liz was the only reason Becky had signed up to that damned dating site in the first place.

As Becky poured boiling water into a saucepan on the hob, her phone rang once more.  No doubt her friend calling back, following the deflection of a serious culinary incident.  Without looking, she grabbed the handset and held it to her ear.

‘That was quick!’ she exclaimed, leaning across to replace the kettle back onto the work surface.

‘Three words a guy hopes never to hear,’ drawled a deep, highly amused voice in her ear.  Becky gasped loudly.  The noise of her dropping the kettle rattled loudly around the kitchen.  It was that guy again; the super sexy sounding one.  She recognised the faint Irish accent and felt her pussy react.  Immediately, her heart rate shot up into the critical zone, her breathing now fast and shallow.

‘H…hello?’ she managed to squeak.

‘Hello,’ he said confidently.  ‘I called you yesterday?’

‘I know.’  Becky silently chastised herself for such a bland response.  The skilled conversationalist.

‘I just wondered how your um…project was going?’ he asked, sounding amused.

‘Actually, really well thank you,’ she giggled.  ‘I took on board what you said and although the film still wouldn’t be my first viewing choice, it certainly looks much more appealing than it did.’

‘That’s great news,’ he replied in soothing tones.  ‘Sounds like you’ve done a good job with it.  Did you choose an appropriate track for your slow dance?’

‘Um…’ started Becky, a warmth spreading through her abdomen, of which she had zero control over.  ‘I went with your choice.  I put a spell on you.’

‘Uh-huh,’ he growled.  Becky was confused; it sounded as though he was agreeing with something she’d said, but his ambiguous response made it difficult to determine what.  Finding some courage, she blurted out the question at the very top of her list.

‘Why did you really call?’

‘I suppose I could pretend that I misdialled your number by accident…’


‘Yeah.  You’re right.  That’s not even a good lie!’

‘How about the truth, then?’ suggested Becky.  After all, she felt like she’d had enough lies from men, to last a lifetime.

‘This is gonna sound creepy,’ he admitted, with a deep sigh.

‘Go on.’

‘Well, the truth of the matter is that I loved the sound of your insanely sexy voice.  And when I got home from work last night…well, I just couldn’t stop thinking about you.’

‘Oh!’ she exclaimed, her thoughts suddenly vacant.  Nobody had ever complimented her accent before.  She was fairly well spoken, from an upper-middle class family in the South of England, but that was hardly unique.  ‘That’s very…flattering.’

‘It’s not meant to be.  Just being honest,’ he admitted quietly.  A long pause followed his admission, during which Becky could hear his soft breaths in her ear.

‘Look, I’m embarrassing myself and I’m embarrassing you,’ he groaned.  ‘I’m sorry.’

‘You aren’t,’ stuttered Becky.  It was true, she hadn’t known how to respond to his statement, but, in her opinion at least, their silence hadn’t been an uncomfortable one.  She had simply been content knowing he was there with her; in mind, if not in body.

‘Could we, perhaps, exchange phone numbers?’

‘Don’t you already know mine,’ she teased gently.  ‘After all, you have called it twice already.’  A low chuckle echoed intimately down the phone, immediately making the hairs on the back of her neck stand to attention.

‘Have you got a pen and paper?’

‘Yeah,’ she grinned, immediately reaching for one.

‘Write this down,’ he instructed, reeling off a telephone number.  Quickly, she scribbled it down.  ‘Then, if you want to chat, or maybe meet up for a drink…well, just give me a shout.  The ball, as they say, is in your court.’

‘Right,’ she croaked.

‘I really hope you call me, Rebecca,’ he admitted sincerely.  ‘But if you happen not to, it was lovely talking to you again.  Good night.’

‘Um…good night,’ she repeated.  Becky replaced the receiver, wishing he hadn’t rung off already.  She doubted she’d ever have the confidence to phone him back, and now her kitchen felt like a rather lonely place, without his sensual presence to accompany her.  It wasn’t until much later that evening, that Becky appreciated her aptitude during their call quite closely mirrored her dating skills.  She had failed to even ask the guy’s name.  There must be a special word for the advanced level of dating hopelessness, which she so regularly achieved.


Fenella Ashworth

Fenella Ashworth is a British author of contemporary erotic fiction.  All of her stories are available from Amazon and free for those with Kindle Unlimited access.  Her bestselling novels are ‘To Love, Honour and Oh Pay’ and the Daniel Lawson series.
Fenella also releases stories on BooksieSilk, Booksie, Lush Stories and Literotica, and is often visible in the Literotica ‘Erotic Couplings’ Hall of Fame (Top Rated).
Please sign up to her newsletter for the latest news, and access to freebies, including a copy of the recently published ‘Bad girls go to Heaven’.

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