Heidi's Guide to Four Letter Words(8)

“Testing, testing… are the sound levels still good?”

The richness of Steve’s voice through the speakers makes goose bumps break out on my arms. There’s no other way to describe it other than warm and luxurious. He’s only spoken a total of eight words and I already know I’d enjoy listening to anything he’d want to read to me.

And then, Steve starts reading from the iPad.

“She takes the swollen head of my cock deep into her wet, warm mouth. So deep it touches the back of her throat. I groan in pleasure when she tightly wraps her hand around my manhood and begins pumping her fist up and down my length. Pump, pump, pump. My cock throbs and jerks in her hand as her head bobs up and down on my stiff rod, and I know I’m going to come harder than I ever have in my life with how hard she sucks on me.”

Oh, jeez! Oh, holy mother of pearl, what is happening right now? Why is no one screaming? Why is Jessica just standing here next to me with a smile on her face? Does she not hear the words Steve is saying? Why is Steve saying the word… pump… like that? What kind of a romance novel is this?

“Perfect!” Dave shouts into his microphone. “That was much better than the last time. You really had the passion and heat down pat with this one. I could actually feel the desire in your voice. Heidi, what do you think? Could you feel the desire? Did it sound hot enough?”

Oh, it’s definitely hot in here, all right. I think I need to stick my head into a bucket of ice right about now.

“It was… super!” I tell him with an uncomfortable giggle, wondering if it would be rude to turn and run out of this room as fast as possible before Steve says the word pump again. Or any of those other words that will now require me to rinse out my ears with bleach. Oh jeez, I know I wanted something new and exciting in my life, but I don’t know if I can handle this much exhilaration. I know my mother won’t be able to handle it.

Oh no, my mother! What in the world am I supposed to tell her about this job?

“This book is going to be huge,” Jessica informs me. “It’s called Falling for my Secretary by Penelope Sharp. Her first book, Sleeping with my Secretary, was an instant bestseller. She’s already been dubbed the queen of erotic romance novels and popularized a new sub-genre called Office Romantica. Lots of hot sex scenes on desks and stuff like that. Her first book is how I got pregnant.” Jessica chuckles, rubbing her hand over her belly. “I’ve got a few copies of the first one and an advance copy of the one we’re recording now in the lower, left-hand drawer of the front desk. Make sure you take them home. You’ll love them.”

I’m pretty sure I will not love them. And I’m one hundred percent positive I will never, ever open that lower, left-hand drawer.

“Oh, I almost forgot. Eric cleaned out one of the cabinets filled with old equipment and left it on the floor under your desk,” Dave tells Jessica as he fiddles with some buttons. “Can you take it out to the trash dumpster on your way out?”

“I’ll do it!” I shout, raising my hand like one of my former students and hoping the dumpster is in Egypt.

“That would be great, Heidi. It’s just some old podcast equipment we don’t need anymore. Trash it, take it home, or do whatever you want with it. I better get back to work. We need to have this audiobook finished in three days,” Dave says, looking back over his shoulder and giving me a thumbs-up. “See you tomorrow!”

I don’t even know how Dave can say the word book with a straight face. Can this type of story even be classified as a book? I’m not completely oblivious. I’ve seen these types of books in the romance section of the bookstore, and I’ve walked by them as quickly as possible with their muscled, shirtless men covers and suggestive titles. I’m not one to judge people who like to read that sort of thing, but it’s just not my cup of tea. I want something with a little more substance. Something with an actual storyline. Something a little more… tame. Some light kissing and then a lovely fade-to-black scene and not so in your face about what’s going on behind closed doors. Aunt Margie calls them Mommy P-O-R-N. Every time she says that word, my mother shushes her.

As Jessica and I exit the room and make our way back down the hall to the reception area, I wonder how hard it would be for me to change my name and move to another country. That’s probably the only thing that will save me from my mother when she finds out what they do here at EdenMedia. I’m certain she won’t be bragging to any of her friends that I’m now an administrative assistant at a place that records… dirty books.





Chapter 4





“I’ll just quit. I’ll call Jessica in a little while and I’ll tell her I’m sorry but this job isn’t a good fit for me,” I whisper to myself as I pull the box out of my backseat.

I let out a sigh and shake my head at myself. I’m not a quitter. I’ve never quit anything in my life, even if it was horrible and I hated every minute of it. Like ballet classes when I was seven, because my mom thought it would be good for me to learn to be graceful. I stuck with it for an entire year, even though I have two left feet and was constantly knocking other girls down or smacking them in the face with my flailing arms and legs.

Or volleyball in middle school, because my dad thought being an athlete was a great way for me to learn teamwork. I couldn’t hit the broadside of a barn, let alone a small, white ball that constantly came flying at my face at an unreasonable speed. I kept at it until high school, even though I suffered through one broken nose, two sprained wrists, and the embarrassment that I was the only girl on the team who never managed to get a serve over the net.