Page 39 of Run For Me
My stomach drops, and my grip tightens around the hard plastic case.
It’s an unknown number, and it has to be him.
I don’t know how I know, I just do. I know who is on the other end of this call. I know whose voice I’m going to hear when I answer it. So, I press the green button and bring the phone to my ear. “Hello?”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Him
My fingers tremble as I type and delete a response multiple times. I have no idea why. I’m not nervous, I’m just… fuck, I don’t even know.
What the hell am I supposed to say to that?
“A virgin?” I growl. “She’s a virgin?” I run my hand through my hair and drop my phone to the bed, ignoring how hard my dick is. I don’t think I’ve popped a boner this quick since I was twelve and saw the neighbor’s fake tits through her window while she was changing.
Glancing at my phone, I make a decision. May be rash, but fuck it.
I pick up my phone, close the app and pull up the dial pad, typing in her number that I’ve been reciting in my head for no reason other than I’m a sick fuck. I hit the call button.
It rings once, twice… and then I hear the sweetest voice in existence.
“Hello?”
“Little dove,” I rumble into the receiver, sure to keep my voice low and as controlled as possible, even though I feel like I’m going to lose it any second. “If I find out you’re lying to me…”
“I’m not,” she responds quickly, breathlessly.
I groan and run a hand down my face. She can’t be serious.
“You are a dream come true, you know that?” She doesn’t answer. “Answer me when I speak to you, Sailor.”
The smallest gasp sounds in my ear, and I grin.
“H-how do you know my name?” she asks softly.
“I told you. I know everything about you. Does that scare you?”
“No, it…” There’s a pause, and I let her get her thoughts together. “I like it.”
“Why?”
I enjoy toying with her, making her uncomfortable. I love it even more because she’ll do as I ask. She’ll answer the questions, even if she doesn’t want to, and then she’ll like it.
I want to be the only one who knows these things about her. I want all of her thoughts, all of her everything.
“Because I feel like you won’t let anything happen to me, that you won’t hurt me. I know that’s weird, but—”
“I won’t,” I add. “Ever.”
The way I feel so possessive and protective over this girl is strange.
“It’s weird,” she repeats. She’s looking for confirmation.
“It’s weird,” I assure her.
“I can’t explain any of this.”
“Neither can I, but not everything in life needs an explanation.”
