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Em,
Gone out to dinner before I go to work. You know what to do. Be good.
Dad
Happy that I’m not going to get the third degree about last night from either Dad or Piper, I kick off my boots, dump my bags on the stairs and make my way through to the kitchen for a drink.
I spend the night curled up in my bed, watching some serial killer series on Netflix. It’s great. It gives me plenty of ideas for how I could end Sloane for her dumb-arse fucking idea to spike my drink last night.
I was all for storming over to her place and having it out with her the second Stella told me the truth about the night before, but apparently, Theo already warned her against it.
I wasn’t exactly thrilled with the idea of following his lordship’s rules, but also, I didn’t really have the energy to go up against the conniving bitch.
I’m happy to let her stew for a bit.
She has to know we’ll retaliate. Unless she’s even dumber than I think she is and doesn’t realise we know that it’s her. I wouldn’t put it past her.
I’m almost asleep with my TV still playing and lighting up my dark room when my phone dings in my bag and wakes me up.
I dig it out and open the message Stella sent to our group chat.
I barely crack a smile at the meme she’s sent, but that’s not because it’s not funny, but because there’s another message waiting for me—one from someone I didn’t expect to hear from again today.
I hesitate with my thumb hovering above his message, debating whether I should even open it.
He’ll see that I’ve read it, and then I’ll ignore him.
I don’t know why that thought makes my stomach clench, but it does nonetheless.
“Fuck it,” I mutter, hitting the screen before I can change my mind.
His Lordship: Don’t even think about finishing what I started earlier.
My eyes open so wide as I read those words that I’m surprised they don’t pop right out of my head.
My thumbs begin flying across the screen before I’ve even realised I’m typing.
Emmie: I don’t take orders from entitled douchebags, so go fuck yourself. You’re not getting anything else out of me.
I sit there with my heart racing, staring at the screen, waiting to see if he’s going to read it. And if he is, if he’ll respond.
My breath catches in my throat only thirty seconds later when read appears beneath my message.
“Oh fuck,” I breathe, knowing that I’ve poked the beast.
The little dots telling me that he’s typing start bouncing and butterflies erupt in my belly.
His Lordship: We’ll see. I know you’re still thinking about how my fingers felt inside you…
“Shit,” I hiss as my face heats.
Damn it. He’s right. And just the thought makes my entire body burn red hot to feel that delicious stretch from his skilled fingers.
His Lordship: You’re thinking about it right now, aren’t you?
Emmie: No. I’ve already found someone else to finish the job, and he was way better than you could ever have been.
His Lordship: Bullshit. You’ve been with Stella and Calli all day. Unless there’s something I don’t know about my cousin, no one else has touched you. And nor will they. Including you.
