Can I Come Over Read online Whitney G.

Categories Genre: Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Whitney G. Advertisement1

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I poured myself a glass of scotch and sighed, letting him give me the words that I needed to hear.

“You can have any woman in this city that you want, Dane,” he said. “Time for you to stop wasting time on this online scammer, and to stop online dating in general. At least for a while.” He wasn’t laughing anymore. “Please tell me that you didn’t tell Christina why you were really at the airport. She’ll run back and tell her mother, and who knows how the fuck she’ll try to tie that back to me.”

“No, she was in a rush when I saw her,” I said. “She didn’t even—” I stopped mid-sentence, my mind circling back to yesterday—replaying the moment when I saw her.

I’d overheard mumbles and whispers traveling down the line of drivers—hushed “That’s one hell of a woman,” “Jesus, she’s sexy as hell,” and “Please let her walk over here to me.” I strained to see who they were talking about, and as the brown-eyed vixen in a tightly-fitted grey dress came closer, I knew it was Christina.

From the looks of things—although I would never say it, she was definitely in town to fuck someone. Her “project” excuse was utter bullshit, because that dress said it all.

Her breasts were on full display—on purpose, and the dress was cut so low that I could see her black lace panties in between steps.

I felt guilty for staring at her, for briefly wondering what those red stilettos would look like if they were wrapped around my waist, but I quickly snapped out of it and called her over.

She’d been fine at first—her typical detached yet friendly self, but then she stared at my whiteboard for several seconds and began acting strange.

Her entire demeanor changed…

Her eyes went wide and she blushed all over, nearly tripping over herself as she took a step back. And then she—

My entire world stopped.

Bella had shown up. She was Christina.

WHAT. THE. FUCK?

“Oh! Hey!” Michael’s voice cut through my thoughts. “I’ve got to go. The nurses are telling me that it’s time. Talk to you later.”

I ended the call, still in utter fucking shock that I’d been talking to my best friend’s daughter this entire damn time.

A part of me wanted to believe that this couldn’t be real. Bella wasn’t really Christina. The other part of me wanted to accept it and confront her about it. And well, do a lot more than that…

I lit a Cuban cigar and took my time smoking it, mentally walking through the past seven months. I lit another, this time with two more shots of scotch—with my thoughts constantly swinging back and forth with the pros and cons of addressing her.

By nine thirty, I decided to open the app and send her a message, but she beat me to it.

Letter Topic: Re: Our Meet Up Today

Dear Ryan,

I guess I have to finally come clean and reveal the ruse.

Regarding your previous message, you’re right. I do owe you the truth, and it’s exactly what you wrote in option two.

I’m not who I said I was, and the clock has indeed run out.

For the record, I truly enjoyed getting to know you better and I enjoyed your letters more than anyone else’s on this app. (And I did consider you to be a great friend of mine.)

I don’t expect a response, and I won’t send you another letter.

Sincerely,

Bella

ELEVEN

Bella/Christina

Why did it hurt to send him that email?

My chest felt as if it was on fire, and my heart and my brain were swinging on a pendulum of lust and shame. I felt like I was losing a good friend by letting Dane go, but I knew it was better to walk away from him now instead of waiting until I returned home.

Downing a huge glass of wine, I tried to focus on something else—anything else, but it was no use.

So far, the only thing that came out of this loss—the one thing that was helping to soothe the pain a little better, was his cock picture. I’d written five new sex scenes by using it as a means of inspiration while I was stuck in this room.

And last night, while I lay in bed, I stared at his picture and used it as a muse. I shamelessly rubbed my clit as I envisioned him sliding his tongue against my pussy and making me say his name.

Welp. Time to write another sex scene.

I opened my laptop and uncorked my second wine bottle for the night. As I was opening the document for Strangers in Spokane, a heavy knock sounded at my door.

“Coming, coming!” I buttoned my shirt and grabbed a few dollar bills from my nightstand.

This hotel had a great eye for service; they brought me fresh wine glasses every few hours as if they knew I was committed to drinking for my entire stay.


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