Promises, Promises....     Author's Notes: See end of story.
 Rated R/NC-17 (adult concepts, language)
 M/F, Ray/created female character 

 Promises, Promises.... by Lianna Zoe
 copyright 1997
 

 It was almost completely quiet along the street when Ray pulled the
Riviera next to the curb, the dark only broken by small pools of
brightness from the streetlights. Nothing and no one outside, except for
him and few moths circling one of the lamps. He yawned widely, his gaze
drifting to the digital clock affixed to the dashboard. 12:42. Late. Very
late. But he didn't feel like leaving the car just yet. 

 His thoughts chased themselves, going over the last minute wrap-up to the
case, the day's confrontations with the D.A.'s office, Dief's spring
fever, Fraser's exasperation with his wolf, his own near-miss at the
warehouse, and all the inevitable bureaucratic consequences from using
unorthodox methods that awaited him tomorrow. Somewhere in there, his
reflections snagged on what time it was, and why he didn't want to leave
the car yet. He grinned sleepily, taking his cell phone out of his jacket,
and hit the pre-programmed speed dial. 

 "Hello?" He could hear surprise in her voice, and the slight edge of
worry at being called so late, but no trace of weariness. 

 "Hi. Did I wake you up?" 

 "Nope. Still studying. Writing up notes on the Abbasids, actually." That
she didn't have to ask who it was and that she recognized his voice
immediately, her own tone warming in response, could have been flattering.
Especially considering they'd only known each other a few months. But
then, they'd spent more time on the phone than they'd spent in the same
room. //Not for lack of trying on our part, though....// Ray shook his
head, frowning at the clock again. 

 "You're gonna wreck your wrists at that keyboard if you keep pulling
these all-nighters, babe. Take a break from it, why don't you?" 

 "Mmmmmm... they do ache. I got a lot done today, so I guess I can knock
off for a while.... Why are *you* up so late, Detective?" 

 "The case just wrapped. And, I just dropped off Fraser and Dief," Ray
could hear the drag in his voice as he leaned back against the car seat,
stretching out his legs. "We got the jerks who heisted those medical
supplies." 

 "Good for you! That's great!" Vecchio smiled again, the pride in her
voice giving his ego a boost, and he felt himself relaxing even more, his
body loosening as the case receded from his mind. "You sound beat,
though." 

 "I'm trashed." 

 "Poor guy." Sympathy and affection spilled out of the receiver, and Ray
revelled in it. "I know how much overtime you put in on this one. You
should have been asleep in your own bed ages ago...." 

 "Definitely. I'm still in the car. I can't move, I'm so wasted...." 

 "Awwwww." 

 "Thank you, I love sympathy almost as much as praise." 

 "I know." She chuckled lightly. "You're so easy to please, it's
ridiculous...." 

 "So." Vecchio grinned to himself, watching the moths dip and dive around
the argon streetlight. "What are you wearing?" 

 "Ray..." She laughed, and made another note in her book of Islamic
history. "Sympathy and praise are easy to come by, dude, but I'm afraid
you're doomed to disappointment in _that_ department." 

 "What, you're not wearing the strawberry jammies?" 

 "They itch." 

 "They're gorgeous," he protested, drawing the word out with a combination
of disbelief and mock-adoration. 

 "I know. But they only come out to play for special occasions. I stick to
my grey sweats when I'm studying. Sorry." 

 "The university ones with the short shorts?" 

 "Yes," she said cautiously, then laughed again when he purred
lasciviously into the phone. Ray always cracked her up. Even stuff that
wasn't that funny made her laugh when he said it; it was all in the
delivery. Which was a lot of what had attracted her to him in the first
place. Well, that and the way he told off one of the pig professors at the
University of Chicago. He'd had a bad habit of treating his grad
assistants like chattel... until Ray expressed his opinion. She smirked,
remembering the look on the guy's face when Vecchio lit into him.
Priceless. 

 "And you're at your desk, looking all studious and professional with your
hair pulled back and your glasses on... except for the tiny soft sweats?"
Ray's voice had deepened, and she swallowed another giggle. "Or maybe
you're studying on your bed again.... oh, yeah..." 

 "Get serious, Ray. You should be asleep---" She wasn't about to tell him
he'd guessed right. He didn't need any encouragement. 

 "I _am _serious. I'm trying to pretend you're here, giving me 

 sympathy, instead of at your desk---" 

 "Is that what you call it? Sympathy?" It was impossible to be properly
stern and scolding when Ray was amusing her this much. Guiltily, she
realized that she ought to hang up, go back to her thesis notes, give Ray
a chance to get out of the car and get to bed if he was too punchy to hang
up the phone himself. But listening to him free-associate at her was much
too entertaining. Well, a couple more minutes couldn't hurt.... 

 "Oh yeah, definitely. Sympathy for my pain." His voice had gone all lazy
and plausible; irresistible, inviting her in on the joking lie. "After
all, I'm sympathetic to your pain... Sore fingers, aching neck... bet
you're getting a headache from the computer screen, too. You've probably
got that crease in your forehead from squinting, am I right?" 

 "Probably." She flexed her fingers and winced, then rubbed at the bridge
of her nose. "Yeah." 

 "You should relax, take off those glasses, go lie down...." He was
sounding more sincere now, concerned, and she couldn't help responding to
it, ruefully tilting her head back against her pillow chair's headrest. 

 "Except if I did that, I'd fall asleep in three seconds." 

 "You could use the rest." 

 "Hunh...." Sighing, she took off her glasses and massaged her temples.
"So could you. We should probably get off the phone, give you a chance to
get some sleep, Ray..." 

 "If I were there, I could massage your fingers.... Get the blood flowing
again. You let them get all twisted and knotted up, that's not good..."
She could imagine it vividly from all the massages he'd given her, could
almost feel his strong, warm hands kneading hers, caressing the knuckles,
releasing the tension.... 

 "Awwww.... no fair. Reminding me is cruel..." 

 "Uh-hunh." His tone had become all drawling preoccupation, ignoring her
objections like he knew she didn't mean them. "I'd get all the cramps out
of those pretty fingers, rub them until they were awake again... Then do
your wrists, get them nice and loose.... elbows, too. You said they were
hurting, last time I saw you. Deep strokes, real steady, so they won't be
so tender...." 

 She whimpered a very little bit, in wistful regret that he wasn't there
to do just that. He could be a jerk sometimes, but when he was genuinely
*trying* to be sweet, he did it so well.... Closing her eyes, she listened
to his voice, caressing her without being there to touch her in person.
She let the sound slide down to her nerves, soothing, seeming to trail
along the surface of her skin like the fingers he was describing. 

 "That's what you need, a long, thorough massage, hon... your neck, your
shoulders, get rid of that headache... make you as limp as cooked pasta." 

 "Already am," she murmured, then sighed. 

 "Good." A low chuckle, and then he went on, his voice getting huskier.
"Have to pull all your hair up, get it out of the way, trace the muscles
along the back of your neck... kiss the nape, real softly, keep warming
those tight, tight muscles..." 

 "Mmmmmm...." She rolled her head sideways, almost feeling his breath on
the back of her neck, his voice in her ear.... 

 "Trace your jawline with my fingers, gentle on all that sweet skin... a
couple angel-kisses behind your ear to relax you...." She bit her lip,
restraining a sigh as he went on, his voice and words becoming more
intimate by the minute. "Slowly rub down your back, down your spine,
across your shoulders, stroke the muscles down to the top of your hips,
then knead my way back up... you've got gorgeous shoulderblades, you know
that?" 

 A soft giggle escaped her. "You're nuts, Ray." 

 "Maybe. They're still perfect, though... Couple butterfly kisses on them,
too, while I'm at it." His words were slowing, sounding less and less
premeditated. That it was still riveting had as much to do with the
sultry, dark sincerity of his voice as the sensual descriptions he was
spinning out to her, thread by thread drawing her in. "Slip your top off,
over your shoulders, over your head... then pull your sweats off your
legs..." 

 "Hmmmm." He would, too, so gentle she'd hardly realize they were gone;
he'd done it before, the top skimming over her head without touching her
skin, the sweatpants drawn off in one easy motion. Fierce longing for Ray
suddenly assaulted her, for him to come over and do everything he was
promising... 

 "Foot rub. Baby your toes from wearing those killer heels you always have
on.... They make your legs look fabulous, but I've seen you limp after a
day in them. Rub your arms real fast to keep you from getting chilly...
Back to the aching arches, stiff ankles, up to your calves. Gotta put
pressure on them, to get those knots to unwind.... Takes a while; all
those muscles leading up your legs..." She shivered at the way he
described 

 it, feeling phantom hands caress her legs, working their way upward.
"Couple kisses behind your knees, where you're ticklish, little fast
licks.... Stop for a second, move back up, knead your shoulders, get the
last of the kinks out of them while I kiss you, long, deep, soft...." 

 She swallowed, twisting back into the sheets of the bed, her breathing
becoming more irregular. Ray's voice went on relentlessly, hypnotic,
teasing, seeping into her bloodstream, making her pulse speed up as his
voice dropped to just above a whisper. She could see him, in her mind's
eye, naked except for the cross around his neck, warm body curved around
hers as she twisted her fingers through his chest hair, and he continued
to touch her.... Blinking, she tried to distance herself from the
momentary fugue, but Ray was still talking, and her eyelids drifted closed
as his sure, confident voice went on... 

 "Rub the muscles in your neck, put pressure on them real gently, but not
letting up.... Tilt your head back, lick my way down your jaw, your neck,
trail hot kisses back up to your cheekbones; kiss your eyes. Your mouth, I
love your mouth, so sweet.... Keep kissing you, until you can't breathe,
while my hands come up to cradle your breasts..." 

 "Ray..." She wasn't objecting, not telling him to stop; he could hear
mingled confusion, arousal, and embarrassment in her voice. A couple more
minutes, and that would change. If she didn't hang up the phone from
shock. 

 "Brush the tips with my fingers, feel them crinkle up... Trail my tongue
down from your mouth, down your throat, over your collarbone, down to your
nipples..." Something that might have been a gasp came from the receiver.
Ray swallowed a chuckle, letting his voice get more sexual by the second,
as deep as he could manage, remembering what she'd told him about liking
masculine voices. "Suck real lightly, at first... wait a little bit, swirl
my tongue around them, soft, then suck harder, really hard, while you're
moaning... Then kiss the other one, play with that one for a while..." 

 A low, breathy sigh from her; Ray imagined what she must look like right
then, and had to swallow to regain his own equilibrium. "Kisses, lots of
kisses, down your ribcage to your belly-button, nibble there for a bit....
Let my hands knead your thighs, unknot the last of the soreness in your
legs..." 

 "Ray...." 

 He ignored the mumbled exclamation, caught up in the fantasy as he
slipped one hand beneath the waistband of his slacks. "Then I rip your
underwear off with my teeth." 

 A squeak from his cell phone made him chuckle evilly, his breath catching
slightly as he went on.... 

 She'd blushed so hot and so suddenly at his last words that there were
tears in her eyes. Her throat had gone dry a few minutes ago. And still
Ray was deliberately, luxuriously making her crazy, just the sound of him
telling her what he wanted to do.... 

 "Warm up all those little curls with my breath, kisses, little tiny fire
kisses all down the outside lips... Lick a circle around your sex..." 

 Gulping, she tried to relax, tried to breathe, but it felt like he was
there, in the room with her for godssakes, the room too warm for comfort,
that gravelly voice shuddering through her gut, down to her groin. 

 "Drag my tongue down the length of the slit, then back up to your
pearl..." 

 The fingers not clenched around the receiver drifted in between her legs,
slowly rubbing in time with the rhythm of his voice. 

 "Take my time. Lick and tease you until you're crying, begging for me not
to stop... Use my fingers too, send little electric shocks through your
body, never stopping, making you gasp..." 

 "Ray..." Close. Oh, God, the fluttering in her sex had started, hot and
pulsing, and if he just kept talking, she'd be fine... 

 "Like now. Like you are now." 

 "Mmmmph...." 

 "Taste you, listen to you scream... then lay you back on the bed, push
myself into you, very, very, very slowly..." His voice had gotten hoarse
and thick, and she could hear him breathing heavily... "And take you,
while we kiss, our tongues getting all tangled together..." 

 That did it. She moaned, her lower muscles clenching as she came, gasping
and panting, unable to stop. From the sound of Ray's groans, he'd reached
his breaking point at the same time, and the excitement in his voice was
even more of a turn-on than his fantasizing had been. Finally, her body
subsided into a dull, pleasurable languor, leaving her embarrassed and
bemused. 

 "Wow." 

 "Liked that, hunh?" He sounded incredibly smug, which usually would have
annoyed her, but she couldn't work up the energy for it right that moment.


 "Uhhhh.... yeah." She giggled, coughed, then mumbled, "Jeez. That was...
pretty spectacular, for virtual sex." 

 

 "Couldn't have done it without you," Ray responded, his voice soft and
seductive again. 

 She flushed, squirmed for a second, then blurted out, "Why don't you drop
by? Right now?" 

 "I thought you said it was late. That you had to study some more,"
Vecchio said lazily, his tone mocking. 

 "I do. I will. I just... I'm awake now, I'm very awake and not in the
mood to study, Ray." 

 "Ah. Well, I'm too beat to drive, babe. I'd have an accident. Probably
drive into the canal." 

 "Ray... You know I can never sleep afterward---" 

 "Can't do it. It's past one a.m. and I just can't see me moving this car
from where it's parked," he said regretfully, but not regretfully enough
to hide the glee in his voice. 

 "Ray, you tease! You wouldn't---" 

 "Sorry, hon. Gotta go, it's late. Sleep well." Click. 

 "You scum!!!!" She stared at the phone, furious and frustrated and ...
horny. "Damn you. Damn damn damn damn, ohhhh, Ray, am I ever gonna make
you pay for this, you *creep*, you bastard, you JERK----" 

 The doorbell rang. 

 She ran to the door and flung it open to reveal a flushed and grinning
Ray leaning against her doorjamb. "Miss me?" 

 "You _rat_." Dragging him into her house by his trenchcoat lapels, she
shut the door and pushed him against it, her hands ripping open his shirt
as he hiked up her shirt, his hands already skimming her body. "I would
kill you, but I have other uses for you first..." 

 "Promises, promises..." 

 * Author's notes: 

 Big TYK to Dianne, for beta-reading and posting for me, and (hopefully!)
forwarding whatever comments this story garners; please, _do_ comment...
negative or positive, I welcome all feedback. 

 This is the outcome of a "voice" discussion with various friends who are
Voice Sluts; all of us agreed that accents are great, Fraser in oratory
mode is terrific... and Ray making a call like this has definite
potential. 

 LZ 

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