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The life I need….
And it will all start with steaminess, with his strong arms wrapping around me, his confident lips moving to mine as he pulls me closer and drives his hips against me.
I’ll be able to feel his manhood pressing against my belly, rock-hard, all his desire burning out of him.
My phone buzzes.
I grab it, even if I don’t want to, dreading his response.
It’s Natasha.
Hey, sorry about earlier. I was in a terrible mood. I’m not going to be home until around midnight. Jess got tickets to a band, and she offered me one. I hope that’s okay.
Of course it is, I respond. Have fun. I love you.
Soon, it’s time to return to work. Unfortunately, Weston still hasn’t responded to my message about women wanting to meet with him, making me wonder if I hit the issue far too squarely on the head.
I’ve got another break in three hours.
At hour two, I hear my phone vibrate from the top drawer of my desk, but there’s no way for me to check it without getting into trouble.
I tell myself it could be Natasha again, not to let my nerves spiral into possibilities of what Weston might say.
But there’s far too much swirling in my mind.
You were so beautiful when you gave birth to our child, I imagine him saying in his husky voice, the one that’s captivated audiences all over the world… women all over the world.
Then my mind skips back to the baby-making part, and I imagine being poised enough to drag my fingernails down his chest, looking sexily into his eyes, and feeling the burning heat of his muscles pressing against my palm.
Time goes slowly, but finally, my break arrives.
I almost rush to the hallway, my phone clasped tightly in my hand, getting a strange out-of-body feeling as though I’m watching myself.
It’s crazy to think, That woman is texting a celebrity. A millionaire. A world-famous actor.
In the hallway, I lean against the wall, looking down at his message.
I rarely meet with women, he texts. I want to meet with you because you interest me. That’s it.
I glance up and down, suddenly certain Aurora is going to catch me texting and somehow going to know who I’m texting.
She’d probably be pissed if she knew about this, one because I stole his number… and two because she’s put a lot of effort into promoting Kennedy’s side of the story, the fight.
The truth.
He wants Kennedy, not me.
What if I’m not what you think I am?
Have you lied to me about anything? he responds instantly.
People walk by, causing me to open the door to the stairwell. It’s cooler in here, the lights with a stark artificial feel.
No, I reply. But what if I’m ugly?
You’re not ugly, he sends.
I laugh in exasperation, and yet a smile curves my lips, my cheeks aching as I’m tempted to take his words seriously.
There’s no way he can know, but still, the thought of Weston telling me he wants me….
It’s almost too much. It makes me shudder, makes me ache with the force of it.
You don’t know that. I’m Miss Mystery, remember?
Let me pick you up from work, he responds. Your cell phone area code tells me we’re in the same city… Let me give you a ride.
The word ride sends my mind to all kinds of sizzling places, my thighs tingling, my panties rubbing against my sex as I fantasize about being a wholly different Alice.
This Alice has it within her to mount Weston and press my hands against his shoulders, feeling his throbbing muscles as I guide my core to the end of his bulging manhood. I take everything he has, sitting down until he’s buried all the way inside of me.
I’ll look him right in the eye without fear or nerves.
“This feels so right,” I’ll moan, kissing him passionately. “We were made for each other.”
And then I’ll start bouncing on him, no whispering voices in my head telling me I’m making a fool of myself, no doubt to drag me down, to destroy the perfection we’re building.
For what feels like the hundredth time, I text, But you don’t know who I am.
I don’t need to, he responds instantly. You’re my mystery woman, but it can’t stay that way. I need to see you. Say yes.
The final sentence is like a command, one I find impossible to ignore.
It makes my mind flood with other commands he might give me.
Closing my eyes, I see it all so clearly.
I’ll walk outside, finding Weston in the private parking lot, leaning against his car, that smirk on his face.
Then it’ll warp, fade, and become nasty….
But what is life if not one big risk?
I can’t live in fear forever.
Okay, I type quickly. Thank you. Yes.
It’s time to brace myself for disappointment.
CHAPTER 9
Weston
I sit in the parking lot in my car – the windows tinted – drumming my fingers against the steering wheel.
