Page 5 of Pin-up Girl

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brodie

I didn’t feel like it was an exaggeration to say today was the worst day of my professional career.

Hearing Peach’s voice over my speakers was the only way I could think of to lighten my mood. Everyone else in the office building I owned left hours ago, and listening to her say filthy things, her sighs and moans echoing through my office, would be the perfect way to say goodbye to working in this place.

“What are you wearing?” My question was half-teasing. When we started doing this—cybersex—I’d told her that was far too cliche an opener.

She’d argued I would miss out if I never asked.

That was one of the first things Peach said that made me think the woman I was talking to online had more in common with the girl I’d loved from afar in high school than I originally thought. The girl I never should’ve looked at because she was such good friends with the boy I loved.

“Nothing special.” Her response was playful. “Cotton cami. Panties.”

“Did your clothes fall off?”

“Something like that.”

I didn’t know for certain until tonight that I was talking to Aubrey—that girl from high school. Over the years she’d let little hints drop. I’d told myself it couldn’t be her, over and over. What were the odds? It wasn’t until she used her sister’s name that I knew.

I wasn’t Sebastian—I did feel like the dude had gotten the short end of the stick in his tech ventures—and I didn’t live in Haddarville. But once upon a time, I had.

“You have me at a disadvantage.” I leaned back in my office chair and relaxed into the conversation. “I’m still dressed.”

“Hmm…” Such a simple sound, but coming from her, it sent shivers of desire rolling through me. “Unlucky for you.”

“Unless I decide to even the odds.”

“Are you going to lose a little excess gear?” Her easy use of the gaming term made her as attractive as everything else about her.

I had something else in mind, though. The beginning of a fantasy begging for attention. “Not quite. I’m going to dress you up.”

“You’re going to dress me?” Her scoff was musical.

“Sort of. What are you wearing to your sister’s wedding?”

Silence.

A tired sigh.

“And there goes the mood.” Her voice went flat.

“Trust me. Play along for just a little longer.” It was more of a command than a request.

“Fine. If I get to pick? Bustier top with thin shoulder straps and a circle skirt, plus a contrasting shrug.”

“Thigh high stockings, no panties.”

Her amused huff said her curiosity was back. “Why would I do that?”

“Because I’m your date. I know that you’ve been running around all morning, helping her get ready, and you refuse to admit you need a break. So I’ve hunted you down to force you to take one.”

“Really.” Peach—Aubrey—was definitely intrigued.

Knowing her well enough to hear that in her voice was part of what made this so much fun. “Really. I track you down, wrap an arm around your waist, and pull you into the nearest supply closet.”

“I’ll squeal.”

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