Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
I almost laugh. Like that would be difficult.
I’m not sure. I text back, which is partially true.
I know why I want to talk with him. To bring my fantasies partly into reality, to experience what it’s like to be with a man like Felix Franklin, even if it’s in the most minor way, even if he’d puke when he saw me.
No.
That’s Rachel in my mind, the way she snaps if I ever say cruel things about myself.
But what would he say if he could see me now, under the covers?
That’s not much of an explanation, he writes. Are you working for one of my rivals or maybe hoping for a big payday?
My instinct is to snap at him, even if he’s not here, to yell at him that I’d never be so shallow. In all my dreams about Felix, his money never plays a part.
Of course, I’m not innocent. I understand that having money is a good thing. It can bring security. It can make life easier.
But it’s never what my mind strays to. I’m always with him, naked and sizzling, taking all the lust he’s lavishing on me. Or I’m with our family, his arm wrapped around me, both of us smiling as our children play in the yard.
I don’t work for any of your rivals, I tell him. And I’m not a gold digger, if that’s what you’re implying, Felix.
His response comes quickly, making me giggle.
Ooh, I’ve offended you. You just named the shit out of me.
I read it over twice, laughing each time. It’s difficult to match Felix’s voice with the hard man I know from the office. He has a reputation for being fair…but also for being harsh and brutal when he needs to, especially in business meetings.
It wasn’t an unfair question, I reply.
So, are you going to tell me why you’re messaging me, FIONA?
I laugh again. You just named the heck out of ME too!! X
We’re back to the kisses again, I see. x
You’re doing it now as well! X
My head is spinning. My cheeks are burning.
Everything feels warmer and more significant somehow.
Everything feels primed, ready to burst.
Am I having borderline text flirtations with Felix Franklin?
I’ve never actually pinched myself before to make sure I’m awake. I know it’s a phrase people use. But I’ve never physically done it.
Right now, though, I’m tempted. It feels so surreal.
I guess I’m just not very original x
I beam at his message, my chest whelming, and then an anxious thought derails the mood.
If he’s texting so easily with a stranger, does that mean he’s always ready to talk with women he doesn’t know?
Maybe he’s a secret womanizer. As far as the public is concerned, Felix hasn’t had a girlfriend in almost ten years, and that was only a short nothingy affair.
But maybe, in secret, he plays the field.
The thought that comes to me makes me cringe just thinking about it, but my head is too full of him to think of anything better.
I want to be witty and quick and not have to resort to the biggest cliché ever, but….
I bet you say that to all the girls
Once I’ve sent it, I toss my phone aside and emerge from under the covers. The sudden rush of cool air – contrasted with the steaminess of the blanket – makes my skin tingle.
I shiver gently, imagining it’s Felix’s hands moving all over my body, his finger trailing up my spine.
“I’m going to make this last a long, long time,” I imagine him growling close to my ear. “You’re going to shiver for me. You’re going to cream for me. You’re going to do whatever the hell I tell you to.”
I push my legs together, and my lips feel swollen. My clit is tingling, tempting me to press down on it. I almost give in to the urge right now, except it would mean ignoring Felix’s response…if he is going to respond to something so cheesy.
I pick up the phone, and my eyes flit over his words. My chest tightens and cramps, and for a crazed second, I wonder if I’m going to have a panic attack.
He doesn’t know me, so either this is a pickup line, a lie, or…or what? Or he only knows my first name, and yet we’re somehow bonded, somehow – what – fused together?
There are no other girls, his text reads.
Oh, just me? XX
I hold my thumb over the send button for a long time, maybe as long as a minute, willing myself to throw those words out there. It’s what I want to say, or, really, a toned-down version of all the things I’d like to text him.
I’d like to tell him about my fantasies, my dreams of a life together…and then he’d tell me that to make babies, he’s going to have to take me savagely, possessively, making it clear who’s in charge, making it clear who I belong to.