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Prologue
Green typeface against a white screen: CDanielsRunner is typing.
CDanielsRunner: What are you wearing?
A flush of heat rose to the surface of her skin. Sitting cross-legged on her bed, soft pink quilted roses beneath her skin, Lara Sinclair looked down at her sweat shorts and tank top. Maybe it was best to lie.
Something slinky, she typed, fairly certain Cal wouldn’t be fooled.
CDanielsRunner: By slinky, do you mean gray and athletic?
The corner of her mouth rose. How well he knew her for never having laid eyes on her.
CapeGirl: Faux athletic. I don’t actually work out in these. They’re built for sleepwear and they’re pretty thin, but they do look suspiciously like my running garb.
CDanielsRunner; Thin sounds nice, I bet they feel good on your skin.
Skimming her hands over the soft cotton at her belly, she noticed the fine texture for the first time. The fabric was barely there.
CapeGirl: It does feel good.
CDanielsRunner: No fair, I can’t touch.
Lara let out a frustrated sigh, it wasn’t fair. She was dying for him to touch. After two and a half weeks of internet communication, she was getting desperate to have his fingers moving over something other than a keyboard.
CapeGirl: Only three more days. I never thought I would say this, but I could kiss my sister for making her wedding a week long ordeal. Means I get to see you longer.
She was nervous, excited. The waiting was killing her. She’d never met anyone who made her feel the way Cal Daniels did. She owed Dette for this one. Cal was the best man in Dette’s upcoming wedding and Lara had been assigned the task of helping him coordinate his travel plans. In their first email exchange, she’d caught a subtle reference to her favorite novel in his signature line and made a cheesy joke of it. They’d been corresponding ever since. She didn’t know what he looked like, other than he was an avid runner, was in “okay” shape, had blond “horrible” hair and blue eyes. It wasn’t much to go on, but she didn’t care a bit.
CDanielsRunner: Kiss your sister- eh? Don’t make me jealous. Three more days is too long. You tell me about it.
CapeGirl: About what?
CDanielsRunner: What you are wearing.
A pulse of excitement shot through her. He couldn’t be suggesting what she thought. No, that’s exactly what he was suggesting. Cal’s flirtatious tone made her feel naughty and daring, and tonight she was already over the edge of excitement knowing she would be able to see him so soon.
CapeGirl: Tell me what you want to know.
CDanielsRunner: So it’s thin, can you see through it?
CapeGirl: Them. White tank top and gray shorts.
Suddenly, having no room for a real desk in her tiny apartment seemed more like serendipity than an inconvenience. The bed was the perfect place for her laptop. She studied her reflection in the mirror over her dresser. The tank top was tight and the ribbing stretched across the full swell of her breasts.
CapeGirl: You can see my nipples through the fabric.
She hit send, and waited. Nothing indicated Cal was typing. Her heart started racing. What if she’d been wrong and he hadn’t been thinking kinky? Then a response.
CDanielsRunner: What do your nipples look like?
She pressed her lips together between her teeth, dragging her breath in through her nose. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard. Would he think less of her when they actually met in person? No, she trusted Cal—enough to expose herself to him in a way she never dreamed she’d be capable of doing. Taking the plunge, her fingers flew over the keys.
CapeGirl: Dark and rosy, they’re hard.
CDanielsRunner: Why?
CapeGirl: For you.
CDanielsRunner: I like that. Touch them for me. Are they sensitive?
CapeGirl: Yes.
CDanielsRunner: Tell me how you touch them.
With one hand, Lara pinched lightly, pulling the erect tip out with increasing pressure.
CapeGirl: Soft first, and then hard.
CDanielsRunner: Roll them in your fingers for me.
CapeGirl: I am, it feels good.
CDanielsRunner: Where do you feel it?
CapeGirl: Everywhere—my breasts, my belly, between my legs.
CDanielsRunner: Between your legs—are you hot?
CapeGirl: Yes.
CDanielsRunner: Wet?
