Page 31 of Run For Me
Part of me wants to text Sam again, or maybe call to make sure he’s okay since I haven’t heard back. I don’t know if he made it home safely. The other part of me knows I should give him space… or am I just telling myself that to let him go?
The mind is a tricky thing, doing everything it can to protect you—only sometimes what it does isn’t the right thing.
I know what I want to do. I want to text JT. I want to talk to him and get to know him better, but that has me feeling guilty… even though I don’t want to be.
I remember what I told myself, though.
I need to be me. Stop pretending. Give in to who I am.
Accept me for me.
So, I close out of my texts. Sam will respond when he wants to respond. I open the chat with JT and send him a message; the question that’s been on my mind all day.
DarkRaven: Why didn’t you ask me to send you a photo in return?
His response is immediate, and I wonder if he sits around waiting for me to message him.
That’s crazy. Why the hell would he do that?
JournalThief: Because I don’t need one.
DarkRaven: What does that mean?
JournalThief: I’ve already built an image of you in my mind.
DarkRaven: But if it isn’t accurate, does it matter?
JournalThief: I’ll bet it’s pretty accurate.
I stare at the chat, tapping my finger on the side of my phone as I think of what to say. He sends another message before I come up with something.
JournalThief: I have another question.
DarkRaven: Okay.
JournalThief: Would it turn you on if I told you I knew who you were?
My heart skips a beat—out of fear. Okay, maybe excitement. There’s a thrill that shoots up my spine at the thought of him watching me… Of him knowing who I am without me knowing. Has he seen me? He knows what I look like, and he still wants me? That’s impossible. There is no way someone like him could want me…
JournalThief: Would it make you wet knowing I’ve seen you? That I’ve watched you walk to your classes?
Impossible. That’s impossible. There is no way he knows who I am. No way! But my heart beats faster.
How could he figure something like that out? But I won’t lie… the thought has me excited. Too excited. And in a way I shouldn’t be—a way that feeds those dark parts of me.
JournalThief: How would you feel knowing that I’m watching you when you don’t know about it? That I’m fantasizing about you? Getting off on following you without you having the slightest idea?
This is what I was worried about, wasn’t it? I’ve been going through school, thinking everyone is him. Worried that he’d know exactly who I am, what my dark thoughts are, but I still do not know who he is. But if he’s telling the truth, if he knows who I am, why isn’t it evoking the feelings I thought it would?
Why am I not afraid of this? Why am I not embarrassed? Why is my skin growing warm and my mouth going dry? Why are my palms sweaty? And most of all, why is there a tingle between my legs?
JournalThief: Tell me, little dove, are you wet for me now?
I swallow hard and do something I haven’t done in a long time.
I slide my hand into my pants, underneath my panties, and slip a finger along my slit, the silky-smooth glide telling me yes, I am wet for him. After removing my hand, I wipe the sticky fluid on my pants, and I respond to his question.
DarkRaven: I am.
