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Standing, I slide my fleece sweatshirt off, so the swoosh of the material sounds as it drops against my desk. Then I gaze at it as the color reminds me of Ethan’s eyes and the boundaries we crossed last night.
A night where I did this with someone I love. A strained laugh escapes.
“What’s so amusing?”
“I didn’t realize it when I made the purchase, but I certainly hope you like the color green.”
“Love it. Why?”
“My body’s covered in green lace.” I can’t help the satisfied twist of my lips when I hear his harsh expulsion of breath.
There’s a contented hum before his dark voice asks suddenly, “Is it really?”
“Is what?”
“Is your lingerie really green?”
“It is,” I confirm.
He mumbles something I can’t quite make out before I hear, with significant authority, “You deserve a treat for being such a good girl, Filia.”
“What do you want me to do?”
There’s a heartbeat of silence before he orders, “Crawl to the foot of the bed. When you get there, I want your head and shoulders down so your hands can be free. Can you do that and still be on the phone with me?”
My heart thumping against my ribs, I rasp, “Yes,” before I orally do exactly as he says.
Later, I’m going to have to replay this scene with Ethan, knowing he’ll actually see me in the items I bought.
CHAPTER NINE
ETHAN
Kensington, Texas
My heart is quaking after I disconnect the call with Fallon. After wiping my brow, instead of my spent cock, with a hand towel I assumed I’d need after I spoke with her, I sit in shock. The absence of noise almost makes the buzzing in my mind as loud as a sonic boom.
I’ve never faked my orgasm with her.
Not until tonight.
I never had a reason to.
My eye gravitates just beyond my spread legs, where a secure coded laptop and a glass of whiskey sit on my coffee table. There used to be an ice cube in it.
It melted while I was on the phone with Devil’s Lair and spoke with a phone sex operator named Filia, giving me precious time to hack into their database.
Over and over, my mind rejects what just happened.
Filia and Fallon telling me about their green lace shopping expedition.
Filia and Fallon stripping their robe from their bodies.
Filia asking if I liked the color green; Fallon telling me she bought it because it matched my eyes.
Aloud, I whisper, “It’s not possible.”
Fallon, the woman I love, can’t be working for the phone sex company I’m investigating for a possible connection to a human trafficking ring. But how is it possible “Filia” and Fallon both walked me through the exact same sexcapade on the same night? “The odds don’t even exist.”
