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Ember: Yep. My face is red and hot… Along with other parts of my body.
Dante: I’ll call you tonight so I can listen as you relieve the ache.
Ember: Oh, I like the sound of that.
Dante: Yeah? What else do you like?
Oh, man. I clenched my thighs tightly together. If he wanted to know what else I liked, I’d be honest. Honest and direct was the way to go. But first I wanted to play with him a little more…
Ember: Walks on the beach. Green smoothies. Dancing. Kissing. You.
Dante: That’s sweet. Now give me the rated R version.
Ember: Isn’t that dangerous? Next, you’ll tell me to send nude pics of me.
Dante: No way, baby. I want you nude in real life so I can enjoy you.
Why did I go there? To nude pictures? My mother and Jaynee were in my head, yuck.
I tingled and warmth pooled in my panties as I typed my reply.
Ember: Be careful what you ask for. I’m awfully demanding.
Dante: Don’t I know! You’re a greedy girl. I like that about you. I’m up for the challenge. Literally.
Ember: This is getting a little too hot for texting. Don’t you have a meeting to be at?
Dante: No, but your dad just messaged me to stop texting you.
Ember: OMG! Okay. Talk to you later.
I fanned myself, trying to cool the molten wanton of desire in my core. That was the most enthralling texting session I’d ever had.
Holy hell, this guy fired me up. I couldn’t wait for him to come home.
“What’s with all the trucks?” The scene at the boutique reminded me of when someone keyed Birdie’s car and she sprained her ankle when she slipped on the ice. Ice that someone had purposely created by pouring water around her car.
“No idea. But Storm is here, so that can’t be good.” My mom quickly parked the car and got out.
“Nope, not good at all.” I spied Raymond’s truck in the front. He hadn’t gone on the run to man the club while Maddox and the others were gone.
Mom and I rushed inside. When Birdie saw me, she marched toward me with a look that said, I’m going to kill someone. I knew exactly who was at the top of her list—Raymond.
“Hey, Bird. What’s all the commotion about?” I asked her.
“I’m gonna talk to Snow.” My mom made her way toward Boxer’s wife, Snow. She was the owner of Sister Chic. She was talking to Storm and Raymond.
“Everything looks fine inside.” I scanned the place and nothing looked out of order.
“Oh, girl. It is so not fine.”
“Spill it, cupcake. Why are your dad and Raymond here?”
“Do you know what deepfake images are?”
“I think it’s when someone creates fake photos. Sort of like Photoshop.”
“Yes.” She fisted her hands, then reached behind her and pulled out a paper from her back pocket. “Look.” She handed it to me.
