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Ever since graduation, I hate that we haven’t been able to see each other. Our phone calls are limited between my work and his, but our texts are heating up in a way I fantasized openly about to Austyn years ago.
I just never expected him to want me the way I do him—as something more.
Still, even as I twist the vibrator on and talk to Whiskey, I conjure up an image of the way he looked when I stared down into his face as I sat astride him the night of my graduation. His dark chocolate brown hair only showed a few strands of silver at the temples. His green eyes bored into mine like they could penetrate my soul. God, just thinking about him has my breathing shifting into overdrive, my thighs pressing together.
Long ago, I admitted to myself the kind of man who did it for me—older, commanding, taking charge in the bedroom. Hell, I recall telling Austyn when we were back in high school. I suspect Whiskey’s like that, which is why it’s easy to superimpose the beloved face of the man I’ve wanted for forever on top of his voice.
Especially when I can taste Ethan in my dreams. I sigh because I want it all—my mother healthy, the man I adore in my life, and the freedom to admit to the world how I really feel.
Then I’m yanked back into my reality when the dark voice on the line threatens, “Nuh-uh. No, little girl. You’re going to wait for me.”
Instantly, I still. My legs stop shifting. I play off the uncivilized undertones I hear across my headset. Fully tuned into Whiskey, I rasp, “How did you know?”
His laugh is low and rough. “The same way I always know, Filia. I know you.”
For just a second, a whisper of déjà vu arcs through me as Whiskey’s words penetrate. I shift in my chair and glance at the little box Florence has installed at our workstations to ensure our lines can’t be traced. I let out a relieved sigh when I realize it’s safe to court this stranger’s fantasy. “Well, what do you want me to do if you know me so well?”
“I want you to stand up,” he orders.
For the next thirty minutes, I verbally take orders from Whiskey until he groans his completion. Fortunately, his call is the last one of my shift. As soon as I finish, I head out to my car. After I reach my apartment, I send a text to Ethan.
Fallon:
Are you up?
Ethan:
With you, that seems to be the permanent state lately, darlin’.
Ethan:
Want me to do something about it?
Fallon:
Yes, please.
Ethan:
Fuck. Call me.
CHAPTER EIGHT
FALLON
Seven Virtues, North Carolina
Fallon:
Which set do you think I should buy?
I attach two photos and press Send. Figuring it will take my mother a few minutes to reply, I move into a different section of the local boutique and flip through racks of lingerie.
Ethan:
Christ, Fallon. Are you trying to give me a heart attack?
Fallon:
