“Idiot, idiot, idiot,” I berate myself under my breath and mop as much of my cum as I can with the towel I discarded earlier. What are the chances she doesn’t notice she’s wearing different panties tomorrow?
Fucking nonexistent.
Still, I tug them down, not allowing myself to really look at her sex like that’s a punishment for my extreme stupidity. I grab a clean washcloth and gently cleanse her, then take a similar pair from the drawer I know she keeps them in, avoiding the lacy ones. Finally, I pull her pajama pants back on and cover her with the throw she keeps on her reading chair.
My fists clench and unclench as I stare at her for long minutes in silence.
If I don’t control myself, I’m going to thoroughly corrupt her.
And I’ll make her thank me for it.
With a final longing look, I turn off the light at her bedside table, plunging the room into darkness.
10
BASIA
Iwake up with a gasp, looking around for my dream man. It felt so real, but the edges of the memory are hazy and slipping away like sand in an hourglass.
The man was kneeling over me, touching me, rubbing against me. And just like in dreams, it was better than any encounter I’ve had in real life. He was huge, incredibly fit, tattooed, and had a dirty mouth like one of the characters in my old BDSM novels.
The man was… Caleb.
I’m sure of it. Even with something dark covering the lower half of his face, it’s just not possible for me to mistake those wide shoulders, those intense brown eyes. Not to mention the smell of his cologne.
The only question is… was it a dream? Or was it something else?
And why am I not completely freaked out? After all, if my instinct is right, and this wasn’t just an incredibly erotic dream, my bodyguard came into my room and made me come in my sleep. Has he done it before? I mean, I dream about him so often…
I find my phone next to me and open my text messages. I skip past strait-laced Morgan and tap on Barbara’s thread. She’s loud and adventurous. She’ll understand. Maybe.
Me:
Got a minute for a call? Super sensitive information
It doesn’t take long at all to get a reply, just a few seconds of me anxiously looking at the almost-closed door to my bedroom.
Barbs:
Hell yeah! Spill the tea
Tea… I look at the empty teacup still on my nightstand. It’s not unusual for Caleb to make me tea, but he’s been bringing me a cup every night before bed without fail lately. I pick it up and look at the bottom where the tan liquid dried. Of course, I don’t see anything unusual. Gingerly, I put it back down before sneaking into the bathroom.
Caleb’s making breakfast in the kitchen, Poe meowing and begging for his own food. I lock the door and turn on the shower for cover, then tap on Barbara’s contact. She answers after just one ring.
“Woman, what took you so long? I’ve been hiding in the bathroom for three minutes already waiting for you.”
I can’t help but laugh at the visual.
“I’m in the bathroom too,” I whisper. “Great minds?”
Barbara ignores the opportunity to make a toilet joke.
“Okay,” she starts with a low voice. “You don’t text like that unless something is very wrong or very unhinged. Which one are we dealing with?”
“Possibly both,” I whisper, leaning my hip against the bathroom counter. The mirror reflects my own wide eyes, hair amess, cheeks flushed like I’ve been caught doing something I shouldn’t. “I had… a dream.”
Barbara snorts. “Bas, if you’re calling me from the bathroom to tell me about a sex dream, I’m hanging up.”
