Page 7 of Wrong Number

“Send me a picture, Vivi.”

“Right now?” I squeaked.

“Right. Fucking. Now,” he growled. My skin broke out into goose bumps.

“But I’m naked, Nix,” I whispered. Before I could get completely flustered about his request, he moaned, and I felt a zip of electricity race up my spine.

“Show me, beautiful.” His hoarse whisper tempted me. It was stupid. How many times had I thought that when Lana mentioned sending nudes to a guy she was talking to?

“Will you… will you send me one, too?” I asked and heard the distinct sound of him swallowing. I had no idea why my eyes shut, and I could almost picture him. My imagination ran wild. Thick muscle-corded neck, a very pronounced Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. One I would want to lean in and lick. Bury my face in and breathe in his scent as deeply as my lungs let me.

“Vivi.” His voice sounded strangled, and I knew he was going to say no before he actually did. “My cam's busted.”

“Oh,” I whispered without trying to conceal the disappointment I felt. Of course, it is.

I had no idea what I was doing.

Talking to a stranger like this. He was probably some kind of pervert who texted random numbers to see if he could get his jollies. You know that’s not true, a voice whispered in my head. Either way, I wasn’t stupid enough to send him a nude. But I couldn’t get myself to deny him completely.

“Hold on.” I muted the call and brought up the camera in my phone, then snapped a pic of my hand against the pillow and sent it to him before I could overthink it.

“Fuck,” he growled the moment I unmuted it. “Looks like every part of you is pretty. Even your fingernails.”

“Shut up.” I laughed.

“Thank you.”

“Thank— I just sent you a picture of my hand.” I laughed, not sure if he was being ridiculous or sweet or both.

“Yeah, and that’s enough. For now.” I could have sworn he said those last two words, but it’d been so low I wasn’t sure it was just hopeful wishing on my end.

“They’re a little dry right now. I forget to moisturize after cleaning, and the stuff we use is a little harsh.”

“I hate that you work so much.”

“It’s okay. I’m close to what I’ve been saving for.”

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

“Hmm, maybe I’m not ready to tell you all about me?”

“Fair enough, kitten. Shit. It’s late. You have enough time to sleep?” he asked.

“Oh, umm…” I glanced at my alarm clock and grimaced. “Probably not,” I whispered. “But it's okay. Talking to you is worth it.” The words slipped past my lips before I could stop them.

“Do you know where you’re working tonight?” he asked.

“The fire house, the one off Main.” I sighed. “I should go and shower. It'll wake me up a little more.”

“Okay, baby.” His okay, baby in that soft tone made my heart yearn for something more. Which was seriously stupid because I had no business wanting more. With Nix or anyone. “Text me later?”

“Yeah, sure,” I answered with a tight smile.

Three weeks of talking, and he hadn’t asked about meeting. By the way he talked about the city, it made me think he lived there or once upon a time had. Either way, the fact he couldn’t send a picture or ask about meeting was a red flag that was getting harder and harder to ignore.

Maybe he is married?

Maybe he is under house arrest?

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