Oh, right.
Ex-fiancé.
I amended.
Did he know about your fantasies?
No one knows them.
Except youwent unsaid.
Why did you break up?
It’s my turn. Why me? Why are you stalking me?
Three dots appeared, then disappeared, then reappeared.
I don’t know.
I rolled my eyes, typing quickly.
Lying isn’t the game, Void.
I sat back, fiddling with the stack of papers, waiting for Void to reply. It was almost five minutes before he did.
I wish I could say it was just to keep you safe from the kind of people you’ll attract with that profile, but I don’t think I’ll get you out of my head until I know exactly what you look like shattering on my cock.
I swallowed no air, chest tight, and stared at the message until it blurred into nothing. I’d always expected sexting to be like,What are you wearing?This was…
Intense. Thrilling. Dark.
But I didn’t respond.
I didn’t knowhowto respond.
Luckily, he sent a follow-up so I didn’t have to.
But that will never happen.
My heart plummeted into my stomach.
Why?
I typed before I could stop myself. Void’s thought bubble popped, then disappeared, then popped up.
If you’re not going to answer, you owe me a photo.
I stared at the screen, waiting for a response. Seriously, what the hell was wrong with me? A stalker, a literal criminal, had more sense for safety than I did.
Lithie has BPD, or borderline personality disorder, so she always got the rep for being impulsive and reckless. But I don’t know, I think maybe she was just louder about it.
It took two minutes before he sent one. My breath caught. A wave of heat slid through my body, rippling and distorting, like the air on a hot summer day.
A hard, rigid outline of his cock in gray sweatpants.
There was a knock and my gaze shot up, finding a thin man in the doorway. I slammed the phone down, feeling caught. Eames and Olly shot me a look.
“Someone called IT,” he said.
