I held the phone in my hand. Did he really want me to call? What was he doing? I glanced at the paper so many times the number was burned into my mind. I could call let him know I was safe and wish him a good night. Simple, no strings, casual.
He was a player. He was gorgeous. There was no reason to call. He would be fine without me.
If I did, what did he expect? If I set down the phone and just went to bed, would he worry? Would it be rude not to call? If I didn't dial I would never know. Maybe it would be best not to know.
One night of holding hands, of feeling important to someone, it was too much. I was addicted. I should stop before it went any further before I could know what more I would be missing.
"You will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did," Samuel Clemens' ghost chimed in my head.
He was right. I would regret it more if I didn't call. I held my breath and dialed. Lee picked up on the first ring.
"Hello." His voice was dark and spicy. The last syllable lingered like a kiss.
It was my turn to talk. "Um, Hi." Did he know who this was? Probably not. Between him and his roommate, there were probably girls calling their apartment all the time. "It's ah, Ashley, from earlier. I made it home safe."
Lee made a sound. Was he laughing at me? "I remember." He said into the phone his voice dripping sex and honey as though he'd been waiting all night for my call.
"Well you said to call, I don't know if," I paused. I was always so tactless. Asking him if he meant what he said was the stupidest thing I could say. It seemed very few people ever meant what they said and hated to be called out on it. He'd probably been toying with me just to see if he could.
The pause stretched long enough to make me sweat. "I meant it." He said his voice dropping an octave straight down into my panties making them wet.
To him, I was probably as predictable as watching reruns. I wished for the knowledge of how to tantalize, be mysterious and exciting, but I knew nothing about men, dating, or flirting.
"We weren't done... talking." He meant sex. He hadn't gotten me into bed and fucked me yet.
That anyone would want that with me 'the untouchable' seemed unreal. The guys I went to school with thought I was either a goody-two-shoes murderer or a frigid bitch banshee.
For some reason when it came to Lee, it felt like he might understand. "Do you believe in psychics?" I asked.
Through the phone, I could feel his body go still. "Depends why you're asking." Lee's voice was guarded. I didn't blame him. The entire town had a thirst for condemnation and witch hunts.
I took a deep breath. "Because um, well," I couldn't go through with it, he would think I was crazy. "Well, I do." I finished lamely.
"So do I." He said relaxing.
Suddenly the image of him sliding something through his fingers playing with it, staring at it, came clearly into my mind.
"What are you playing with?" I asked. Why did I have to know that? Why hadn't I kept my mouth shut?
"The cord to the blinds," he answered softly. He didn't ask how I knew.
His focus was on me now, the same as mine was on him. Was viewing me remotely too? I could almost feel his hands sliding down my ribs, his breath on my neck.
"Mmm," escaped my throat.
"Tomorrow, I want to see you." His voice was dark, possessive.
He was a player. He was gorgeous. There was no reason to call. He would be fine without me.
If I did, what did he expect? If I set down the phone and just went to bed, would he worry? Would it be rude not to call? If I didn't dial I would never know. Maybe it would be best not to know.
One night of holding hands, of feeling important to someone, it was too much. I was addicted. I should stop before it went any further before I could know what more I would be missing.
"You will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did," Samuel Clemens' ghost chimed in my head.
He was right. I would regret it more if I didn't call. I held my breath and dialed. Lee picked up on the first ring.
"Hello." His voice was dark and spicy. The last syllable lingered like a kiss.
It was my turn to talk. "Um, Hi." Did he know who this was? Probably not. Between him and his roommate, there were probably girls calling their apartment all the time. "It's ah, Ashley, from earlier. I made it home safe."
Lee made a sound. Was he laughing at me? "I remember." He said into the phone his voice dripping sex and honey as though he'd been waiting all night for my call.
"Well you said to call, I don't know if," I paused. I was always so tactless. Asking him if he meant what he said was the stupidest thing I could say. It seemed very few people ever meant what they said and hated to be called out on it. He'd probably been toying with me just to see if he could.
The pause stretched long enough to make me sweat. "I meant it." He said his voice dropping an octave straight down into my panties making them wet.
To him, I was probably as predictable as watching reruns. I wished for the knowledge of how to tantalize, be mysterious and exciting, but I knew nothing about men, dating, or flirting.
"We weren't done... talking." He meant sex. He hadn't gotten me into bed and fucked me yet.
That anyone would want that with me 'the untouchable' seemed unreal. The guys I went to school with thought I was either a goody-two-shoes murderer or a frigid bitch banshee.
For some reason when it came to Lee, it felt like he might understand. "Do you believe in psychics?" I asked.
Through the phone, I could feel his body go still. "Depends why you're asking." Lee's voice was guarded. I didn't blame him. The entire town had a thirst for condemnation and witch hunts.
I took a deep breath. "Because um, well," I couldn't go through with it, he would think I was crazy. "Well, I do." I finished lamely.
"So do I." He said relaxing.
Suddenly the image of him sliding something through his fingers playing with it, staring at it, came clearly into my mind.
"What are you playing with?" I asked. Why did I have to know that? Why hadn't I kept my mouth shut?
"The cord to the blinds," he answered softly. He didn't ask how I knew.
His focus was on me now, the same as mine was on him. Was viewing me remotely too? I could almost feel his hands sliding down my ribs, his breath on my neck.
"Mmm," escaped my throat.
"Tomorrow, I want to see you." His voice was dark, possessive.
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