Pull You In (Rivers Brothers #3) by Jessica Gadziala


PROLOGUE





Call Log:





11:51 PM





Name: Katherine (1st-time caller)

Notes: None





Rush used to hate when they left the notes empty. Back when he first started the job, knowing what a caller wanted from him helped chase away the niggling uncertainty he'd felt about the job as a whole.

After all, it was one thing to dirty-talk a woman in bed, in the heat of the moment. It was a complete other to have one cold-call you, give you nothing to work with, and come up with a one-sided script right on the spot.

He'd learned fast that the reasons a woman called varied from one end of the spectrum to the next. Some just wanted to chat about their days, about their stress level, have someone who would actually listen to them, even if they had to pay for it.

Others, well, others wanted you to pretend to be their Dom, telling them they were bad girls who needed to be punished, and all the ways you intended to do that to them.

Rush had needed to brush up on his kink knowledge pretty soon after signing on with Fee. He spent his time between calls online looking at BDSM toys and protocols.

Fiona had been a proactive boss, handing him a welcome package the day of hire that included dozens of pages of different kinks, lists of euphemisms, anything she had come across during her time as a phone sex operator that she thought might be useful to someone new at the gig.

Maybe the information would have been enough for the male callers. But Rush quickly found that the women had higher expectations, that he wasn't selling them a quick orgasm, but rather an entire experience, a full-blown fantasy.

So he delved deep into his studies.

He couldn't claim to have been the best student in school. He'd always been half-ready to get onto the next thing, always chasing something.

Then again, the subjects in school weren't nearly as interesting as all the different ways you could turn a woman on with only your voice, your words.

Research, that was what the book on his desk was all about. The one with the half-clothed dude and the woman with a mask on her face.

It was some story about a sex club.

If he were being completely honest with himself, though, he would admit that he actually found himself enjoying the books he'd been reading as "research."

He'd never been much of a reader in the past, either. Then again, these books were a lot more... stimulating than anything else that had been forced on him at school.

Taking a deep breath, then a sip of the coffee he'd been sipping to keep him up on the night shift, the time when women were much more likely to call, he hit the button, accepting the call.

"Hey, baby," he crooned into the receiver.

He'd tried all sorts of pet names for callers, but "baby" had overwhelmingly produced the best results.

There was a long enough silence that his brows furrowed, that he glanced down to make sure it was still ongoing.

"You there, Katherine?" he went on.

As much as women liked "baby," they also really fucking liked it when you used their names. At first, he figured it had something to do with building some intimacy when the situation could sometimes make it difficult.

After trying it out in his personal life—with his very casual interactions with the other sex—though, he concluded that it was just a quirk, something he was grateful to the job for figuring out.

"Yeah," a small voice whispered.

A lot of them started off quiet, unsure. He couldn't figure calling a phone sex line was something most women could ever see themselves doing, no matter how hard-up. It could take a bit to get them out of their shells.

Luckily for him, he'd never been shy, had always been good with women. That was why Fee thought he was good for the job in the first place.

"Good. How you doing, baby? Had a long day?" he asked. They usually did. Hell, who didn't? Adulthood, he found, was just one long day after the next.

He'd grossly underestimated that fact until recently, had taken Kingston for granted for always shouldering that pain-in-the-ass adult shit.

Now, though, he was on his own.

So he knew a thing or two about having days he wanted a break from. Which was what these women were looking for, to slip away from their worlds for a little bit, to fall into the fantasy he provided.

"Yeah," she told him in that small voice.

"Well, I'm here now," he told her, leaning back, resting his legs on his desk, crossing his ankles. "I will make you forget all about it," he told her.