Recovery Time by Rina Stewart It was another busy day at radio station WENN. People bustled up and down the hallways, ducking into the studio just in time to deliver their lines. Not Jeff Singer, though. He was stuck at home for the third day in a row, recovering from a nasty bout of the flu. After two days, Hilary had finally pronounced him ready to get out of bed. Now normally, the thought of two days in bed was a good thing. Unfortunately, Hilary was on one of her mother-hen kicks, and she apparently was not going to let her husband exert so much energy. "You're still weak, Jeffrey," she had chastised him the night before, when he tried to talk her into staying the night. Well, very little talking had been involved. She had informed him that getting sick was not a priority on her part, and marched off to spend the night in their guest room again, telling him to call if he needed anything. In fact. . ..hadn't she said the same before leaving for work that morning? Yes, she had. "Call me if you need anything." He brightened at the thought. Well, he certainly needed something. He eyed the phone speculatively. Could he? He glanced at his wristwatch. 6pm. Hilary would be at the station until about 11 that night, with the baseball game. She and CJ would be the only people there after 8, and Hilary would only have to be on the air every half hour. Satisfied with his new evening plans, Jeff settled back against the couch and listened to the radio with a dreamy smile on his face. She might kill him later, but it would be worth it. ~*~ Hilary Booth dropped down on the Green Room couch, exhausted. She hadn't had much time to sleep the last three nights. The first two were due to taking care of her ill husband, and the third had been spent tossing and turning, restlessly wishing that she could be with her husband. Their schedules had been more harried than usual the past week, and then Jeff had gotten the flu. She sighed. She considered herself a healthy, red-blooded American woman, and frankly, she missed their love making just as much as Jeff seemed to. It had taken all of her will power and restraint to not follow him to bed the night before, but she knew he was still recovering and not up to his full strength yet. "Oh, blast it," she said aloud to the silent room. CJ had volunteered to do the first three station IDs so she could take a nap. "If he can do those, he can bloody well do all of them," she muttered, getting up to tell him so. She would go home to Jeff, and hang his recovery time. She would recover him, all right. She hadn't made it to the doors before the shrill ringing of the phone on the counter stopped her. She turned on her heel and grabbed the receiver. "What?" she snapped. "Hilary, Jeff's on the line for you," Gertie's dry voice told her. "I'm putting him through, then going home." "Yes, yes, put him through," she responded impatiently. Why would he call her, she wondered. She heard a click, and then her husband's voice. "Hello, Hilary," he said smoothly. "Jeffrey. Is everything all right?" she asked, a touch of concern in her voice. "You told me to call if I needed something," he reminded her. She furrowed her brow. "Yes, I did. What do you need?" "Are you alone?" he asked, seemingly ignoring her question. "CJ's in the control booth, doing the station IDs for the next hour, and Gertie is leaving," she told him. "What do you need?" "I need you to do me a favor. Where are you?" he asked, his voice still silky smooth. "I'm in the Green Room," she answered, beginning to get impatient with his lack of answers. "I want you to go the switchboard, transfer this line to Scott's office, and then come back, all right?" "Jeff," she began curtly, but he interrupted. "Hilary, I miss you. A lot. And I have an idea, but I need you to cooperate. Transfer the line to Scott's office, and then go there," he told her firmly. Her annoyance fluttered away as a smile broke over face. She knew that voice - he had something planned. "All right. If I disconnect you, call back." She set the phone down and headed for the switchboard, wondering what Jeffrey had in mind. She stared at the mess of wires and shrugged. Well, he knew there was a strong chance she would get it wrong. She pulled the wire out of the Green Room socket and plugged it into the one labeled Scott's office. She headed back down the hallway, not noticing the bag Gertie had left on her desk, but taking the time to hang up the Green Room phone before entering Scott's office and closing the door behind her. She turned to face the desk before turning back. On second thought. . ..she flipped the lock and went to sit in the chair behind the desk. "Jeffrey?" she asked into the receiver. "Good job, Hilary. Are you in the office now?" he asked. "Yes, I am. I'm sitting in Scott's chair," she said, twirling the phone cord. "Now will you tell me what you're doing?" "Wanna play a game with me?" he whispered to her. She smiled. "Well, depends what game you have in mind, Jeffrey." "It's a fun game, Hilary. You get to follow my instructions." She raised her eyebrows. "Mm-hmm. And how is that fun?" "It's fun because I'm going to show you how to let go." "Oh, really?" she asked, still disbelieving. "Yes, really. Close your eyes." "Fine," she said, obeying is command. "Still not seeing it." He smiled. "You're not looking close enough. Imagine that I'm in the office with you. Got that?" She smiled. "Yes." "Good. Now I'm walking over to where you're sitting and kneel in front of you." Hilary gave a small gasp as she finally caught on to where he was going. "I'm running my hands through your hair as you lean down to kiss me." "I kiss your mouth, slipping my tongue between your lips," she continued, softly. "As I pull back to look at you, you whimper and try to pull me closer." "I can't bear being so far from you. I stand, pulling you to your feet also. My fingers reach for your top button and my lips follow. As I slowly move down the front of your dress, I leave a kiss where a button is opened." "My skin is burning hot under your mouth. It's been so long; I can't wait anymore. I quickly unbutton your shirt and push it back over your shoulders, letting it drop to the floor behind you. I run my hands over your chest. It feels so hard and smooth under my fingers." He moaned as his hands mimicked her words. "Your dress is pooled around your feet and we kick it out of our way. I push you down onto the desk as you slide the straps of your slip off of your shoulders." "I realize that you're more dressed than I am and reach for your pants. You're already straining against them as I slowly undo the top button and slide the zipper down. Your cock springs free, wanting to be touched." "Please touch me," he said hoarsely, forgetting that it was his hand and his game. "I need you to touch me." "My index finger traces your length. Can you feel it? Can you feel me?" she asked throatily. "Yes, yes," he groaned as he eased his boxers down past his erection and let them drop to the floor. "As you thrust up to meet me, I slide my hand back down your long, smooth shaft. I stroke it back and forth, with quick, short strokes," she said, her voice dropping to a hissing whisper that went straight to his groin and brought him closer to the edge. "Faster, please," he begged, "I need. . .I want. . ." "What, Jeffrey?" she asked, eyes closed and imaging him spread in front of her. "What do you want?" "You," he burst out. "I want you." "What do you want me to do?" "Make me come, Hilary. Please," he continued to beg for release. "My hand moves quicker and quicker, and suddenly I kneel in front of you. Wrapping my hand around your base, I take your length in my mouth," she whispers as he moans. "My tongue swirls around your tip, sliding down to moisten every part possible. As my hot breath wraps around you with every puff, I can feel you tighten up," she continued, knowing that even the thought of her mouth on him would bring him over the edge. "Oh, God, Hilary," Jeff groaned as the phone fell from his ear. Picturing his wife's dark head moving down on him, he grasped himself firmly and finished what Hilary had started, shuddering his way to completion. Giving himself a moment to get control over his breathing, he reached down and picked up the phone. "Sorry," he said, still panting slightly. "You should be," she grinned, her own breathing rapid. "What about me? I don't believe my needs are being met here." He laughed. "Have I demonstrated that I'm well now?" "Above and beyond," she assured him. "Then why don't you leave CJ to do the station IDs, and come home. It's your turn now," he told her, grinning at the thought. "About bloody time. I'll be right there," she promised. She paused. "I love you, Jeffrey." "Love you, too, Pumpkin. Now get home so I can show you how much," he grinned. ~*~ Gertie sat open mouthed, staring in frozen shock at the switchboard. She had come back to pick up her forgotten bag, just in time to see Hilary disappear into Scott's office. Curious, she had picked up the headpiece to hear just what Hilary needed to discuss from Scott's office. "Oh," she finally let out, horrified, as Jeff and Hilary finished their phone call. How COULD they? "Oh!" she exclaimed again, realizing they were done and Hilary was leaving. Red-faced and disgusted at both the Singers and herself, she fled the station with plans to call sick in the next morning. Maybe the one after that, as well. There was no way she could face Hilary or Jeff for a long time.