Page 13 of Hotline
His touch isn't forceful, but it is persuasive. He's touching me like I already belong to him.
Oh my goodness.
Maybe I want to belong to him.
His nostrils flare and his teeth clench as he rips up the check and lets the fragments flutter onto the desk. He takes his phone from his pocket and punches something in. He tosses it onto the desk and my own phone beeps from inside my pocket.
"Don't you think you should get that?” Mr. Lennox says.
"If this is a job interview, then no," I say, lifting my chin. "That would be incredibly rude and unprofessional."
"Then you shouldn't have had it on in the first place," he says.
"I didn't know I was walking into an interview."
"This is no longer an interview," he says. "You work for me now. And you answer your phone when I say you do.”
Holy hell. Why is this man having this effect on me? I've always hated bossy guys, because they always seem to be insecure and toxic. He's just different.
I take my phone out and try to not let him see how cracked it is.
On the lock screen is a notification from my banking app. The banking app I have been trying to avoid. The banking app that is a concrete display of how close I am to total ruin.
I eye Mr. Lennox skeptically.
"Go ahead and take a look," he says.
I slide my finger across the glass and open the app, hoping yet again that this isn’t actually some kind of sick prank.
But as I look at it, there's way more money in here than there was before. Like. Way more. And it's way more than the amount on that check.
I look up at the man who’s just swooped in to totally up-end my life, the answer before me becoming crystal clear.
The money is crazy. And for a man like this…I think I might actually want to do this. If I'm doing it for him, everything might come naturally.
This guy doesn't need me. He's a catch. He could get any woman he wants. He must be really lonely and really focused on something other than finding a girlfriend or wife. I think I might feel a little bad for him. He's clearly successful. Why is he so alone?
This is beyond anything I've ever done. The anonymity of this call center feels like a shield against intimacy, but with this guy, there's no shield.
There might not be any real feelings involved with Mr. Lennox, but this will be a very, very intimate relationship. I'llknow the person on the other side of the phone. I'll be able to picture him when we talk. I'll be able to imagine the sound of him snapping off his belt, pulling his zipper down, and taking out what I am quite sure is a huge dick.
And I'll be able to imagine what he'd do to me.
“Who would you want me to be?” I say, trying to sound confident. “A princess? Cocktail waitress? Anime character?”
He reaches out and puts his fingers under my chin, stroking my jawline softly.
“You,” he says. “I just want you to be you.”
When was the last time a man touched me like this? With so much tenderness and care? Never. I’ve never had a man touch me like this before. I’ve never wanted a man to get this close to me.
“Why me?”
His eyes harden into something more vivid. More intense.
“I heard your voice,” he says. “I liked it. And when I find something I like, I refuse to share.”
I clench my thighs together. His words aren’t even dirty, but they’re making me want to get dirty with him.
