Page 162 of Breeding Her: The Red Flag Edition
No reply.
Then the bubbles started to dance.
Callie:Maybe.
I smiled and set my phone down on the desk.
?? ?? ??
My home had always been my sanctuary.
But tonight, as I sat in front of the television with my dinner, something felt off.
The quiet was usually a source of peace, but it settled around me differently tonight.
What once felt like freedom now felt like space.
Empty space.
I glanced at my phone.
No new messages.
As if by magic, her name lit up my screen.
I tapped the notification.
There were no words.
Just a picture of her violated toy—slick, glistening, streaked with her come. My dick stirred at the sight. I stared at it—at her essence—for a few long seconds before dragging my eyes back to my food.
She thought she was being clever.
She’d pay for every last infraction.
?? ?? ??
Day after day, she kept getting under my skin. Callie Shaw—quiet on the surface, chaos underneath—had tied me in knots I couldn’t loosen.
Her texts grew bolder. Sharper.
Half-teases, half-confessions, always landing at the exact moment my patience was worn thin and my restraint was paper-fragile.
She was nothing like the women I’d dated and promptly discarded.
They’d always hid something—motives, insecurities, demands.
Callie?
She was transparent in a way that was almost dangerous.
Smart. Funny. Disarmingly honest.
And she didn’t even realise how much that fed my obsession.
Did I hack into her Wi-Fi and monitor her location activity?
Maybe.
