I narrate audiobooks for a living.

Sometimes I do them in my home studio, but sometimes I have to work with a sound engineer to record them in a booth across town. I almost always get assigned the same guy, and I can’t stand him.

It takes about three full days to record an average book, so that’s three full days of being shut in a tiny sound booth with no one but Marcus, the asshole sound engineer, for company.

When we first started working together, I thought he was shy and not great with people. Then I realized he’s just an asshole.

It’s normal when you’re in the middle of recording for the engineer to have to stop you periodically when you miss a word, say the wrong thing, or something doesn’t sound right to them. There’s a polite way of doing this that doesn’t interfere with the narrator’s flow. Marcus did not do it the polite way. I would get so annoyed with how rude he was that my voice would start to sound angry, so he stopped me even more for hitting the wrong tone.

It didn’t help that most of the work I did was for romance and erotica, and I always swore he was mocking me. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with reading romance or raunchy books, and I really enjoyed recording them in the privacy of my home studio; but when I had to record sex scenes with Marcus listening to every word, it was miserable. I swore he was deliberately making me repeat phrases that were filthy.

I was in the studio with him on our third day of a particularly steamy romance novel when I finally snapped.

In the book, things had been building and building between two characters until they had at last reached the scene where they were going to fuck.

“… as he slammed me against the wall while still kissing me, I no longer cared about anything but the throbbing need between my thighs. I could feel the length of his hard cock pressed against — ”

“Try that again,” Marcus cut in on the intercom.

I took a deep breath, trying not to roll my eyes.

“I could feel the length of his hard cock — ”

“One more time.”

“I could feel the length of his hard cock — ”

“Try it again. Your tone changed that time.”

“Of course my fucking tone changed. How many times do you want me to say cock?! Cock. Cock. COCK. Dick. Penis. Dong! There! Have you heard it enough times yet? Can you just let me do my job for once?”

The bastard was smiling like he thought my little outburst was amusing.

“No problem. Sorry you felt attacked. I’m just trying to do my job, too. Though, hearing you swear is definitely one of the perks. Also, if you say ‘dong’ again, I might not be able to hold it together. Fair warning.”

He was trying to make a joke. How dare he be charming when I was this pissed off? How dare he also be stupidly attractive with his shaggy hair and adorable dimples while he was doing it?

I sat back down on my stool, attempting to regain some degree of dignity… which is tough after you’ve just yelled multiple words for male anatomy at your coworker. I took a deep breath and began to read.

“I could feel the length of his hard cock pressed against my stomach and I wanted desperately to surrender to him. I needed to feel Marcus thrust deep inside of me, claiming my maidenhead — ”

I jerked up in a rage as he hit the intercom button, but he was laughing too hard to get any words out.

“Are you fucking twelve? This isn’t funny! Why did you stop me?”

“You said my name instead of ‘Rafe,’” he said with tears of laughter streaming down his face.

“I did not, you perv.”

“Did too! Come in here and I’ll play it back for you.”

I stormed out the door of the sound booth and opened the door of the control booth, slamming it behind me and leaning against it with my arms crossed.

I stood there looking indignant until my own voice played through the speakers, and sure enough, I heard myself say, “I needed to feel Marcus thrust deep inside of me — ”

I didn’t want foreplay or sweet sex. I just wanted the raw energy of an impromptu fuck.

He played it four times for me. I didn’t think my cheeks could get any hotter or any redder. I was partly embarrassed by the slip, but also mortified to find that hearing the words in my own voice had caused me to realize something: I really did want Marcus to fuck me. Hate sex suddenly seemed like the best idea in the world. I couldn’t explain it, but I wanted him.

I glanced up and found him staring at me from his chair. He had stopped laughing, and if the look on his face was any indicator, his thoughts were racing in the same direction as mine. There was a brief pause that was charged with electric tension, and then we both exploded toward each other in the same instant.

He overpowered me, pushing me back against the door, pinning my arms above my head with his. I found his mouth and kissed him frantically, instantly lost in the moment. His lips trailed their way to my neck, and he seemed intent on slowing things down, but I didn’t want foreplay or sweet sex. I just wanted the raw energy of an impromptu fuck without making it personal. It felt like a good way to get him out of my system.

I grabbed him by the hair to stop him.

“Do you have a condom?” I asked.

“I think so,” he replied, looking a little surprised, but smiling at me with his adorable dimples again.

He turned to dig through his bag and came back with the unmistakable square package. While he undid his pants and put the condom on, I dropped my jeans and panties to the floor and got on all fours.

He hesitated behind me, leaning down to press more kisses down my spine.

“Why don’t we slow things down?” he murmured against my skin. “I want this to be good for you, too. Let me make you come first.”

“Seriously, just shut up and fuck me.”

He hesitated again, so I got back up, pushed him down on the floor, and climbed on top. Sometimes a girl has to do it herself to get what she wants.

He gasped when he was all the way inside me and i began to grind up and down on him.

He was chuckling at my aggressive move, but stopped as I lowered myself onto his cock. He gasped when he was all the way inside of me and I began to grind up and down on him. I was riding him with utter abandon, for the first time in my life not giving a shit what he thought or how he felt. I rubbed my clit as I slammed against him. When I was about to come, I knew I was digging the nails of my other hand into his chest, but didn’t care. The idea of hurting him a little turned me on that little extra bit I needed to finally come.

He hadn’t finished yet, and I contemplated leaving him like that to punish him for being such an asshole, but decided it felt good enough that I would be punishing myself, too. I kept grinding along his cock, slapping our hips together roughly. He didn’t last much longer, squeezing his hands into fists and groaning as he finished, too.

I got up, leaving him to deal with the condom mess, and pulled my underwear and pants back on. He tried to kiss me, but I pushed him away.

“This doesn’t mean I like you,” I said, turning to go back into the recording booth.

He was laughing again. “Then what the hell was that?”

“Hate sex. Good hate sex, but hate sex nonetheless. Ready to keep going?”

I didn’t wait for a response, shutting myself back in the other room and finding my place in the book again. I could see him grinning through the glass, but chose to ignore him completely.

We got through the rest of that day without me having to repeat another filthy word.