Page 3 of Sexting the Silverfox

Audrey

At home that evening, I reflect on my apartment, which has given me one minor headache after another until becoming a giant migraine that I simply could not get away from.

I’m wearing my warmest jammies and woolen socks, a hoodie, and a plush bathrobe on top. My nose is red and cold, but I’ve managed to warm up a little with a bowl of chicken ramen noodles, extra spicy.

The flimsy plug-in radiator does the trick if I sit close enough to it. Not too close, though, because then I’ll get calf burns. I can’t leave it on for more than a few hours, either. It’ll overheat, and that will become another problem. I can’t get a second one because the electrical wiring can’t handle it. The apartment is fully electric, so I don’t even have a gas stove to turn on. There is just no better way to warm up than the current setup.

Cursing under my breath, I gather the nerve to boil some water to add to my lukewarm bath. I have to be quick about it because as soon as I start taking my clothes off, the cold rushes up my spine, making my teeth chatter.

I could’ve stayed in New York, I tell myself as I sink into the hot water.

The water temperature will be perfect for a few minutes, tops, so I make the most of it.

But no, I wanted freedom.

It was a hard choice to make, but two years later, I still don’t regret it. I am free. I chose my own path, and I built my own life. I only wish I’d done more research on this building before putting most of my money into it. My brothers would laugh their asses off if they saw me now.

So that’s what you ran away for? To freeze your ass off in a fancy-schmancy apartment in Chicago? the eldest would say.

Shut up; it’s better than what Dad had planned for me, I think.

And it is true. This is better. Yeah, it’s cold, and I’m living off a teacher’s salary. I’ve got a few friends, but none that I trust enough to allow them deeper into my life. I’ve got loads of books but practically no social life.

I’m still a virgin, and I have a hard time trusting most men. But I am the master of my destiny, and I am doing fine without them. “Frickin’ hell, it’s cold!” I cry out as I jump out of the tub and hurriedly pat myself dry.

It only takes me five minutes to warm up because I’m wrapped in three layers again—socks and all. I pull the radiator closer to my bed and turn on the TV, while my thoughts race. It’s been a hellish week, probably the worst one since this whole heat debacle began.

My mind wanders back to Jason Winchester.

He’s a complete stranger, Audrey, I think, berating myself, and I proceed to open the bottle of red wine I’d brought with me to my bedroom. There’s no other way for me to truly get warm and stay warm until I fall asleep.

I need to forget Jason. He’s rich and powerful, and he was trying to use that to silence me.

“Keep this whiny sucker in my uppity penthouse until we fix her heat so she won’t bother me again,” I mumble, downing the first glass of wine too fast, but hell, I deserve the distraction

By the third glass, I’ve completely loosened up and am warming up nicely under my blanket while the TV plays a rerun of one of my favorite sitcoms. I’m not paying much attention to what’s happening on the screen, though. I’m too busy pondering the choices that brought me to this point. Again, no regrets, but dammit, the universe could show a bit more kindness from now on. I’ve been good; I’ve been patient and hard-working, devoted, and always looking to better myself.

By the fourth glass, I’m back to mentally analyzing each of Jason Winchester’s features. The way he sat behind his desk like a king surveying his kingdom, pride gleaming in his hazel eyes. That half-smile, the way his lips slowly parted whenever I got angry or started talking too fast. The way his gaze bounced from my mouth to my eyes enough times for me to identify a pattern of curiosity that I couldn’t quite understand.

Soon, my thoughts become blurry. I imagine him getting up from behind his desk and coming so close to me that I can smell his sharp cologne. It seduces me and makes my skin tingle all over. I imagine his fingers running through my hair, his lips tracing an invisible line along the side of my jaw until he finds my lips.

Liquid heat gathers between my legs as a scene unfolds in my mind’s eye. Jason taking off his jacket and shirt. I can almost imagine the ropes of muscle stretching across his torso, those broad shoulders and strong arms taking hold of me. I melt in his embrace.

He takes me from behind, bending me over his desk.

“Oh, wow,” I mumble, my eyes popping open as I realize how far down the rabbit hole I’ve actually gone. I grab my phone and stare at his number for a while. I saved it, just in case.

I replay images of how Jason might claim me in my head. In his office. On his desk. In his chair. I imagine him pulling my hair as he slides deep inside me. I can almost feel him, my body responding to his touch. The jolt of electricity as he bites my shoulder then pulls back and has me straddling him on the sofa. I ride him hard …

I need to get thoughts of him out of my head, so I decide to type them in my phone. I’ll delete them later, but for now, I need these thoughts out of my brain.

You are the most infuriating and most attractive man I’ve ever met,” I type. “You make me want things … terrible things … dirty things …. You’d grab my hair and fuck me like a savage, hard, from behind. Bend me over the table and slap my ass. Spread my cheeks and lick me first. Eat me out. Make me cry out your name. Pinch my nipples until they sting, then fuck me hard again, over and over. I want to ride you until the morning, then do it all again the next day.

There’s plenty more where that came from, and I’m already feeling better, but my wine glass is empty, so I reach over for the bottle on the nightstand. My phone slips out of my hand. “Shit!” I hiss as I almost drop the glass, too.

I set the glass next to the bottle instead, deciding I’ve had enough wine for the night. I need something else. Something I dabble with when it’s dark and lonely. I find my phone and leave it face-down on the nightstand.

Closing my eyes, I imagine Jason again. He’s a clear image before me. My idea of him is precise. I replay the moment we met but I change the outcome. I say something to piss him off, and next thing I know, he’s stripped me bare in his office. There are people outside waiting, and I voice my concern.

---