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Theo:No clothes. Legs spread and hands crossed behind your head.
Theo:You won’t say a word when I walk in, won’t even acknowledge my presence. You’ll look up at the ceiling and be quiet.
Liquid pools between my thighs. The silence of the apartment is no more. I hear the constant beat of my heart. The blood rushing behind my ears. My heaving, lust-laden breaths.
Having him between my legs, his body touching my underwear, his hands seeking the wetness in my pantyhose. All my thoughts gravitate toward him.
I squeeze my thighs, grinding them against each other. Rubbing Theo into my skin without the help of my fingers.
When he’s here, that’s when I’ll come.
A difficult task with his relentless texts.
Theo:You’ll wonder how I’ll take you.
Theo:I might lick you to an orgasm, have you wet and ready for me to pound into you. Or I’ll free my cock and push inside you. I won’t have to touch you to know you’re wet. The stain on the sheets will tell me you don’t need prepping. I’ll wrap my fingers around your delicate neck, allow you to inhale the air I breathe out and nothing else.
Theo:Third option, I’ll have one look at your parted lips and decide to fuck you there first. Have your mouth sucking me and your throat coughing and splattering from gagging on it.
Theo:And while I stand at the edge of your bed and contemplate it, you’ll be helpless. Tied with invisible rope to the bed by the sheer force of my command, worried and scared and so fucking wet for me.
Theo:And baby, you’ll have every inch of me.
Grasping the arm of the couch with one hand and the phone with the other, I’m mesmerized by the erotic, dominating texts, and I moan.
Theo:Until then, until I’m back, be a good girl for me. Wash up and go to bed. You’ll need your strength tomorrow morning.
The way he knows how to talk to my soul. No other person could’ve made me feel like a vessel to be used and wrapped up in a cloud of cotton candy in the span of five minutes. And loved. So goddamn loved.
Me:I can’t wait. I miss you already.
Theo:Me too, little Prue. See you soon.
As if he can read my mind, he repeats his message from earlier:I promise to tell you everything when we’re together again. Trust me.
And I do. I really do.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Theo
Knock,knock,knock.
Most people don’t expect someone banging on their door after midnight on a workday.
Most people don’t believe said someone will take the first flight available from LA to San Francisco out of sheer fury. Or pay a detective a grand over his usual rate so he’ll pull every string he has for their address.
Then again, I’m not just someone.
I’m a man who fell hard for a girl. Who swore to protect her. Who’d die before anyone laid their filthy hands on her or have her hurt in any way.
And that includes Dr. Jason Fox.
Dana helped me figure out on the way over here why he’s still pissed at me. Dr. Fox’s plan to fill his schedule with my old client list failed miserably. The kind of crash-and-burn karma serves narcissistic, abusive assholes such as him.
She was more than happy to relay to me how she—without slandering him—warned other women against the reputable doctor. She praised the gynecologist I referred her to, Dr. Duval, adding afor all we know, the reviews online were paid for.
Hearing it satisfied me greatly.
