But I need more. I need words. I need her to choose this. Choose me.
My eyes flick to the burner on the counter. Still dark.No buzz or message.
The silence presses in. It’s more than empty space. It’s a challenge I invited.
I asked her to step into my world, and now I must wait.
An obsession released too early doesn’t ignite. It smothers.
When I left her at the club, instinct surged. But I caged it. And if I need to again tonight, I will.
She has the power to open this door or close it forever.
Still, my chest pounds with the echo of her. My thoughts drift back to the dance floor. The scent of her skin. The sharp rise of her breath when I touched her. The way her body melted into mine, hesitant but still hungry. The tilt of her head. Her instinct to turn and see me, even as I held her still.
That moment was a fuse lit.
I’m losing my fucking mind, Laurette. Reply to me.
Night stretches long, disappointment coiled tight, each unmet expectation a pulse beneath my skin.
I think about checking the feeds, just a glance to see if she’s home. But I don’t. Discipline holds, and I let the minutes drag.
I’m too close, too wound up. I want her answer now, but I won’t chase it.
I stay where I am. A cage of calm barely contains the fire.
Then the phone buzzes, and my pulse stalls. A reply spills across the screen.
I still don’t understand what it is you’re asking me to consent to.
It isn’t a yes, but it isn’t a no. She’s still in.
Every muscle in me relaxes. Because now the fun starts.
Call me if you want to learn more.
The burner phone rings, and I freeze. Relief, excitement, and something dangerous flare in me.
“Hello,Laurette.”
A pause on the line. Her breath. “Hello… B.”
“I’m glad you called. I’ve been starving for the sound of you after an entire week of silence. Been pacing my cage.”
Her exhale is shaky. “It’s been a week since the club. No message or contact. I thought you’d changed your mind.”
“I was giving you time to decide whether you want to step into this or run from it.”
A beat.
“I can’t agree to something I don’t understand. What is this? What does it mean?”
My knuckles tighten around the phone. I lean against the counter and let my voice fall darker, rougher.
“It means I’m inside your world, Laurette. Quiet. Watching. Mapping your steps until you can’t tell where the shadows end and I begin. It means I learn every habit, every breath, every secret thought. And when I decide you’re ready, I’ll pull you into my world.”
Her breath hitches, but I keep going. Softer now. More dangerous for it.
