I’m
so wet for you, Brayden.
Lanie closed her eyes and tried to calm
down. But the memory of what she’d
said as she’d masturbated in the bathtub, having accidentally dialed the phone
number of the very man she was fantasizing about…
And he’d been there, listening on the
other end of the phone as she’d called his name again and again.
Your
cock is so big. It’s fucking me so
good.
She looked at her call history on her
cell phone and saw that she’d called him and he’d apparently been on the line
for nearly two minutes. In that two
minutes, he’d heard her yell out his name as she masturbated and climaxed.
It was beyond mortifying. He was probably telling everyone he knew
about it, laughing, making crude jokes at her expense.
And now she remembered what Brayden had
been saying at the moment she hung up the phone on him.
Is
this a joke, Lanie?
If it was a joke, the joke was most
certainly on her.
Lanie got out of the tub, dried off and
changed into her comfiest jammies. She needed consolation. She
needed to pretend that it had never happened.
As embarrassing as this incident was, she
would never even see Brayden Forman again. She would never have to face the man, and even if he did tell people
about what had happened—she didn’t know any of his friends or coworkers.
What
if he tells Cullen and then Cullen tells Ivy?
That sent a shockwave through her
body.
Lanie quickly shook her head.
He
wouldn’t do that. And if he does,
I’ll deny it. The man is a crude,
rude womanizer and nobody will believe him.
Unless
he somehow recorded you screaming his name.
She felt like crying but somehow, no
tears came. It was just a numb sort
of shock where the memories of the embarrassment kept playing over and over.
The memory of Lanie pleasuring herself,
calling out Brayden Forman’s name, and all the while the phone was picking up
her moans and shouts and he was on the other end, listening.
Each time she thought about it, she got
more embarrassed and wanted to crawl under a piece of furniture and never show
her face again.
She determined that she’d never tell
another living soul about it, never be forced to witness someone’s incredulous
reaction—how they would eventually turn from dumfounded disbelief to
laughter.
Who accidentally dials a man they hardly
know and then shouts his name in an orgasmic frenzy?
Lanie shuffled back to her bedroom and
lay down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. She was hungry but hadn’t had a chance
to get food for the apartment.
Her cable hadn’t been turned on yet and
she didn’t know what to do now.
I’m
lost here.
And
it’s dark outside. I’m alone in the
dark.
She’d kept all the lights on in the
house, as she tended to do, but even still the threat of darkness was
there. At night, the city turned
sinister.
In the darkness, anybody could lurk
outside your home waiting to begin whatever scheme they might have
planned. Waiting until you fell
asleep and the rest of the world was quiet.
Lanie was an easy target. Naïve, alone by herself for the first
time, frightened of her own shadow.
I
don’t belong in this place.
She turned to her side and gave a long
sigh, telling herself to stop being silly and paranoid.
You
have more realistic problems right now than the fact that it’s nighttime. What are you going to do without a
job? That’s what you should be
afraid of.
She had enough money in the bank to last
a few weeks, plus a credit card if things got really bad.
All in all, Lanie figured she had two
months tops before lack of funds could send her scurrying out of Boston and
back to Middlebury, Massachusetts.
Tomorrow, she would have to start calling
temp agencies and coffee shops, bookstores, anywhere that she might be able to
pick up work quickly.
Leaving Middlebury had been a
necessity. She’d felt like a loser,
working a dead-end job at the ShopRite and still living
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