I waited much longer than I wanted for her response.
“What can I say, you have a nice voice.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I said to the silent living room in my apartment. Now we were getting somewhere. She was starting to enjoy this.
Shifting my semi-hard dick in my sweats, I typed a reply. “I think you could use a different word to describe my voice, princess.”
“I’m no princess.”
“You’re right. You’re a fucking queen.”
“Oh, that was smooth. Seriously, though, how did you get my number?”
The subtle indication that she was going to entertain this had me almost at full attention.
“The paid site. You used this number when you signed up.”
She seems to calculate her reply. “I didn’t think websites gave personal information.”
I knew she would ask. “I have my ways. Now, are we finished with twenty questions?”
“Oh, I’m just getting started.”
Fuck me, this woman. She was making this easy. Almost suspiciously easy. She was making it easy to ignore my insecurities, but most women would block a random number immediately, especially one that was sending such suggestive texts. I wasn’t expecting that reaction from her. Every person in the world was a bit crazy, but what if my girl was more like me than I thought?
Maybe she had a stranger kink, or maybe she was bored. I didn’t know and I didn’t care what the reason was as long as she kept texting me long enough to weave my web.
I glanced at the clock, noticing it was fairly early. For me, anyway. I cracked my knuckles and prepared to go as long as she did.
“Hit me with them, then.”
Chapter Nine
Raven
What the fuckam I doing?I asked myself the next morning as I struggled to keep my eyes open, impatiently waiting for coffee to brew. I had a lot of work to do before the afternoon, and being exhausted wasn’t going to do me any favors. Once the carafe was full, I poured the biggest mug I had to the brim. Sitting down at the island, I put my head in my hands after taking a gulp of the scalding liquid.
I’d stayed up until the wee hours of the morning texting Zander, and as a result, slept past my usual weekend wake up time of six. An extra hour of sleep was all I allowed myself on the weekends, but today it wasn’t enough. I’d slept until eight-thirty and woke up feeling like shit; my sleep schedule royally fucked and an astronomical headache pounding at my temples.
When I got the first text in my car the night before, the eerie feeling from the garage came back full force. I was beginning to question if his silence was finally coming to an end. Was that why I suddenly felt like I was being watched after years of peace?
My palms had been so sweaty the steering wheel slipped more than once as I drove over the speed limit with my knife resting in my lap. It was a good thing I hadn’t gotten pulled over because a policeman would have had a lot of questions.
Only after dead bolting myself inside the safety of my apartment did my breathing begin to return to normal. I sat at the island and stared at the text notification, a thousand scenarios running through my mind.
After half an hour, I finally tapped into the message, but the churning in my stomach had me off the stool and pacing. I battled the urge to block the number and switch off my phone completely. Changing my number would be as simple as showing up at the cell store when they opened the next day. If this was the asshole from over all those years ago, blocking would do no good if he already had my number.
But I didn’t tap the restrict button, despite my thumb hovering over it for ten minutes straight. I had been in plain sight for over a decade. I wasn’t hiding, and I wasn’t going to start living in fear now. My panic was replaced by anger as I typed a response. I wasn’t a terrified teenager anymore. Maybe this was just some rando fucking with me.
The back and forth texting was maddening, and I was getting more pissed with each text. Whoever the person was, he was facetious. Just as I tapped the screen to block the number, a name flashed across the top in a new notification.
“You know I’m Zander.”
“You have got to be shitting me.” I said into the quiet room as my blood pressure shot through the roof. If Zander was Ryan then he got my number from my call last weekend. Zander had been the furthest thing from my mind until then. Still, I’d persisted just to see what he would say, but then my annoyance dissipated and I found myself enjoying the back and forthwith him. The more I texted the more I couldn’t bring myself to stop.
We texted like two teenagers. Arbitrary questions like favorite color and our top travel destinations, not even flirting all that much, though he did ask if flirting was okay in the beginning. The way he seemed interested in me personally had desire raging through my body, and I wanted to flirt with him.
He had piqued my interest, and a giddiness I hadn’t felt in a long time coursed through me. It was a bit crazy and extremely unsafe, even though he was my client and I had all his information, but that made it all the more appealing. He could be a serial killer or a psycho, but he said all the right things. Him being my client only added to the giddiness of texting my favorite voice actor.
