Page 25 of Her Possessive Daddies

A long pause follows. “Maybe a little. I’m sorry, I’m just having a lot of feelings right now…..”

A low chuckle rumbles through the phone, sending shivers coursing through me. "You're extraordinary, you know that?"

"I..." The vodka makes my tongue loose. "You don't have to say that."

"I don't have to do anything. I'm saying it because it's true." There's rustling on his end, like he's settling into bed. "Your mind fascinates me. The way you analyze everything, how you light up talking about psychology. And Christ, when you smile..."

Heat floods my cheeks. "Stop."

"Why would you think you're some kind of project?"

"Because..." I roll onto my back, staring at my ceiling fan spinning lazy circles. I try my best not to slur my words as the confession spills out of me."My ex, he just... he said I wasn't fun anymore. That I got boring because I wanted to study and work instead of party. And I'm not...I'm not like those Instagram girls. I'm thick, and my hair's always a mess, and I can't even make a fucking cocktail yet?—"

"Abbie." His voice cuts through my rambling, firm but gentle. "First, your ex sounds like an absolute tool. Second..." He pauses, and when he speaks again, his voice has dropped lower, sending tingles across my skin. "Your curves drive me crazy. And that wild hair of yours? I've been imagining running my fingers through it since the moment I saw you."

I hold my breath. "Oh."

"As for the cocktails..." There's a smile in his voice now. "I didn't come to the bar for the drinks."

My whole body tingles at his words, the alcohol making everything feel warm and hazy.

"Let me tell you something right now." His voice drops even lower, a growl that makes heat pool in my pelvis. "I've spent every night since we met thinking about those gorgeous lips of yours. About how perfectly you'd fit in my lap. About marking that beautiful neck so everyone knows exactly who you belong to."

I clench my thighs together, suddenly breathless. "Corey..."

"You want to know what I see when I look at you? A woman who makes my blood boil. Who makes me want to pin her against my office wall and show her exactly how 'boring' she isn't."

The room spins, and it's not from the vodka anymore. My skin feels too tight, too hot.

"Tell me to stop," he says, voice rough. "Tell me this isn't what you want."

"I..." My fingers clutch the bedspread. "I can't."

"Because you want it too, don't you? Want me to show you how a real man treats a woman like you?"

A whimper escapes my throat.

"That sound..." He groans. "Christ, Abbie. The things I want to do to hear more of those pretty noises."

Who am I, and what is happening right now?

12

COREY

Her sweet voice trembles through the phone, a symphony of vulnerability and inebriated honesty. "I just... I don't want to be someone's experiment, you know?"

I chuckle, the sound low and intimate, even over the digital waves. "Abbie, trust me, you're no one's experiment. You're a discovery, a rare find in a world that's lost its novelty."

She makes another whimpering sound, and I picture the way her lips might part, the soft flush that could be creeping up her neck. "Do it again," I command, my voice taking on a rough edge. I'm not usually one for phone play, but there's something about her—the way she wears her insecurities like a shield, the way her wit peeks through her reserve—that has me aroused and eager to explore the boundaries of this unexpected connection.

"Corey..." She breathes my name like a question, and I can tell she's getting hotter by the minute, her guard slipping away with each passing second.

"Tell me," I say, my voice is a husky whisper, "what's going on in that pretty little head of yours?"

There's a pause, and I can almost hear the gears turning, the battle raging between her inhibitions and her desires. "I... I'm not sure I should say."

"Say it," I urge, my own self-control teetering on the edge. "Say it, and let me show you what we can do with that."

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