Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46202 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46202 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
There could be any number of reasons, but I know the least likely is….
It’s you, Danielle. This woman is you. I didn’t mean to tell you this, but I can’t have you thinking it’s anybody else. I can’t stop thinking about YOU.
I’m on my feet suddenly, too full of frenetic energy to sit still, wondering if this could be a trick somehow.
But I’m not sure what the point would be, except to upset me.
Or, or maybe this isn’t even Damien. Somebody else might’ve gotten ahold of his phone, and now they’re playing some sick prank.
How do I know this is Damien?
I quickly hit send. I have to know the truth before I respond to his words. I have to know he’s not going to read these later and find me pathetic and tragic for thinking he could want me.
It’s me, Danielle.
I walk over to my desk and sit in my computer chair.
My panties press against my sex again, rubbing my clit, triggering a chain reaction of heat and steaminess that has me wishing I could dig my fingernails into his firm shoulders, squeeze and feel how strong he is, how capable of keeping our family safe.
How do I know that?
Would you like a photo or something haha?
I read the haha, trying to imagine Damien laughing at something I said, his lips curving, his eyes bright.
Or maybe his eyes would get a sharp glimmer, intense and ready for me to act on his secret desire.
You say that as a joke, I type quickly. But I really would. And maybe with a newspaper? I know that makes me sound paranoid. Or with my name on a piece of paper or something. This is crazy, Damien.
Okay, give me a minute.
A minute has never felt so long. I walk around my bedroom, unable to sit still. Each movement causes my thighs to brush together, tickling and teasing my sex.
My thoughts have never been more captive to Damien, and that’s saying a freaking lot, considering I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve dreamed and hoped about him.
Finally, the text comes through.
It’s Damien, a selfie taken at arm’s length, wearing a pale green T-shirt that hugs his taut, muscular chest. His expression is impassive, almost completely, except for the twitch at the corner of his mouth.
He holds a piece of paper with my name and the date on it.
I stare and stare, feeling like starlight is bouncing around me, trying to convince my brain my eyes are telling the truth.
It’s Damien freaking Drake, with his strong features and intense eyes, staring at the camera with a near-smirk on his lips.
And all for me.
Do you believe me now?
Yes, I reply. Well, I believe that it’s you.
But not what I said?
You want ME? Is that what you’re saying?
It’s not as though he left much room for confusion.
He said it was me in all caps. But I need to be sure, doubly sure, ten-times certain.
I know I shouldn’t, he replies, making my skin tingle. I don’t want anybody to get hurt.
He doesn’t have to use Dad’s name for me to know who he’s talking about. We both know what’s at risk here, even if I still feel like I’m living in a fantasy.
I look at the photo again to confirm this is real.
It’s happening. I’m not losing my mind.
I don’t either. I can’t believe you want me, Damien. It’s so hard to accept.
I don’t just want you, his text comes back half a minute later. I need you, Danielle. I can’t stop thinking about you. I saw one photo on Facebook, and at first, I didn’t even realize it was you. You’re so beautiful. So sexy. If you were here right now….
He’s left that there almost as an invitation, it feels like, as though he wants me to ask him what sort of stuff.
My body tingles at the thought of him checking me out on Facebook.
I glance at the door, my throat feeling as if it’s getting ready to close with the thunderous pounding of my heart.
I know it’s wrong, the same way he does.
We know we shouldn’t be doing this, even thinking about it.
But I send the message anyway.
If I was there, what would you do?
CHAPTER NINE
Damien
I’ve moved from the balcony.
Back to my bedroom, my cock pushes against my shorts, the helm tingling with the need to release all this pent-up seed. The idea of wasting it anywhere but inside her seems like craziness to me, but I know I won’t be able to hold myself back, not if I see her in person now.
If she walked in here….
My phone pings. Her last message has just come through.
I stare down at my phone on the desk, thinking of her in her bedroom, late at night, imagining all the things I’m going to do to her.
The fact she didn’t tell me to screw off means she may feel the same.