Page 230 of Call Me Baby 2: Side B

World spinning on its seesawing axis.

Breathless under the rising morning.

Mind emptied.

Except one thought:

I’m gonna have to step up my game.

// DEC 11, 3:28 AM //

Andrew Harding is a lot of things:

disarming, blue-collar tender,

Catholic-guilt romantic,

finger-licking filthy,

slow-mouthed sexy.

But when it comes to me, he’s

uncontrollably,

madly,

terribly

territorial.

That’s why tonight’s goal isn’t to seduce

but to provoke his possessiveness.

To piss him off.

Outplay the unperturbed.

Push him to his limits.

On the other side of the penthouse window, the moon’s hanging crooked, city lights blinking blue, restless, and suspicious of my intentions as I stand in the kitchen, digging into the wine fridge, looking for 14% alcohol to keep me company while I kill the cramps in a hot bath, and to keep the edge off, to keep my fingers off my screaming clit, to keep me from slipping into someone’s mouth⁠—

The elevator dings.

I hear Andrew’s footsteps hit the marble before he’s rounding the corner, his head down, phone in hand, scrolling as he walks into the kitchen.

Then he looks up.

And freezes.

A statue under the arch,

breath stumbling away from him.

The merlot bottle ices my fingers as I shut the wine fridge door with my foot and cross the kitchen in only my black panties.

The cold’s biting my bare tits, my nipples hard and pointing right at him.