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receiver didn't belong to a lonely guy who didn't need sex. No, not at all.
    "Hi, Cat. I've missed our talks."
    My heart thrummed in my chest. "What are you doing calling here?"
    "What do you mean? I thought I was your favorite?" Ash's voice teased.
    "Ash, you can't call here, this is my job."
    "I know, and I'm a man with needs. I'm a paying client, so you're stuck with me, Cat."
    "This is ridiculous." I snuggled under my covers and couldn't help but smile. The only voice I'd wanted to hear tonight had called me.
    "No it's not. Besides, my girlfriend bailed on me tonight, and I'm a highly sexual person. I need you, Cat."
    I stared at the posters on my wall, pictures of all the places Ash and Cat had visited on their phone calls. Our phone calls. I'd torn them down and then put them back up. I was glad I'd kept them. "And what would your girlfriend think of you calling a phone sex operator?"
    "I'm sure she wouldn't have a problem with it, considering she is one. That would be hypocritical of her, wouldn't it?"
    Once again, the thought of Ash calling anyone but me made me sick, and I felt horrible for keeping this job. "You have a point. Well, since this is your dime, what can I do for you, or to you, tonight?"
    "Do you ever do threesomes?"
    His request threw me off. "What do you mean?"
    I could hear the smirk in his voice. "You see, my girlfriend is smoking hot, but I'm also quite fond of you. I'd love to take you both at once. Maybe have her ride my cock while you sit on my face and I eat you. What do you think?"
    My brain could not mesh that image together, since I was obviously both people. I just laughed. "You're a perv, you know that?"
    "Ah, but I'm your perv."
    "That you are."
    We spent hours talking about everything from politics to our favorite animals. Then Ash pulled up something on his computer, a list of questions he wanted both of us to answer.
    "Would you rather… get lost in space for thirty years, only to come home to everyone you know dead, or become immortal and outlive everyone you will ever love?"
    I thought about it. "Become immortal. At least then I can spend time with the ones I love. You?"
    "Get lost in space. That way I could still die a mortal death and join them in the afterlife."
    He inhaled something, his cigar probably, before he asked the next question. "Would you rather eat cow testicles or live cockroaches?"
    "Ugh. Are the testicles cooked and marinated?"
    "Yes."
    "Then I'd pick them and pretend they're something else."
    He exhaled. "I'm going to have to go with cockroaches. I'm not putting someone else's balls in my mouth."
    I laughed. "You're such a man."
    "So glad you noticed, sweetheart."
    "Oh, I noticed."
    "Okay," he said, "next question. Would you rather be sprayed with gallons of tar, or dunked into a tub of semen donated by thousands of different men and beasts?"
    "Gross. You have a sick brain. I guess the semen. It's supposed to be good for the skin and certainly would be easier to clean off."
    "I'm going to have to say—"
    "Let me guess," I interrupted. "The tar, because you won't be covered in another man's semen."
    "You're learning, Law School."
    He hadn't called me that in a long time. It brought back memories of our early run-ins. Meetings that weren't as random as I'd thought. Did it matter? In the end, we fit together.
    "Next question," he said. "Would you rather walk across burning coals or be forced to stay awake for three days?"
    "Walk across burning coals."
    "Me too," he said.
    This went on for hours, until the sun came up and my shift ended. I yawned and turned my pillow over to the cool side. "Are you going to do this every night?"
    "Every night you work," he said.
    "You know The Pleasure Palace keeps most of the money. I only get a small amount of what you're paying."
    "Exactly," he said. "So you should just let me help you. Look at tonight. We could have been together, holding each other, saving money, kissing, touching, making love, drinking champagne in front of the