Page 8 of Audiophile

I rummage through my desk for a new notebook. The blank pages dare me to write something different. To write the kind of scenes Daddy Knight comes up with. It’s easy to imagine the attractive stranger pressing his lips to my skin, or yanking my shirt over my head to take me hard and fast behind the register.

I shake off the notion. It’s embarrassing that I subscribe to erotic audio—no way I’d write it. Mortification mixes with arousal, and it all squirms in my stomach. I shove it into a mental box and write my first scribble:

Today was a mess. Feeling alive was great for about half a second. What followed is a great reminder as to why I’d rather be numb.I end it with a quick little drawing of a bird in flight. Something I wish I could be, just to get away from myself.

With my pity party out of the way, I open my laptop to dive into my fantasy world. As soon as I do, my pixie girl flutters down next to me. “Where is Nonna? Is she okay?” Natalia asks, tears welling in her eyes.

“Don’t worry,piccina,” I tell her, stroking her cheek. “She’s tougher than one little smush and will make a full recovery, but foraging a new mushroom umbrella for her might help her feel better.”

Chapter four

Petra

When I head toMulberry’s for my shift on Thursday, I worry my awkwardness will return. However, nothing in Swift River changes, and hardly any time passes before I escape into my fairy world. By the time I clock out I can pretend yesterday didn’t happen.

The small part of me that came alive wilts and dies just as quickly.

Mama and Papa both work at the restaurant tonight, so I don’t bother with dinner. I’m not worth the energy it would take to cook it. I lean against the kitchen island, checking my phone. The link from Daddy Knight Productions still sits at the top of my inbox, waiting for me. Anticipation pools hotly in my belly while I uncork a bottle of wine and carry my glass upstairs to run the water for the bath. A splash of oil into the water, a few candles, and the sweet wine flowing over my tongue allow me to relax before I turn off the lights.

The shadows smooth over the parts of me I’m less confident about. The stretch marks along the curve of my belly, the softness of my arms and my thighs. Most women in my family have the same sorts of curves.It’s your heritage,Nonna always said.In our family, with thick curves comes thick hair. And you, my bella, are blessed with both.I wrestled with it as a teenager, but now I don’t mind so much.

I sink into the blissfully hot water. It melts away the winter chill, and bubbles fizz all around me. I settle in with my wine and tap the link in my email:

Daddy Knight Productions—Rough Day

With my volume set to the lowest level, I place my phone on the shelf and slip beneath the foam.

“Hey, babe, how was your day?”Knight’s voice rumbles through the speakers like distant thunder. Powerful, but not intimidating.“It was rough? I’m sorry to hear that.”

I’ve always pictured Knight with blue eyes and dirty blond hair. Thor-ish, with enough muscles to carry me off to a happily ever after. But honey-brown eyes and barely-there scruff sneak into my imagination. The man at work wasn’t soft and caring, like this scene, but he was real.

I shake my head and refocus on Knight. His large hands glide over my skin.“Wow, you are tense. Can I work these knots out for you? Is that too hard?”

“It’s nice.” I tilt my head back to trail my hands over my collar, wishing they were larger.

His smooth voice is cashmere down my spine.“We’ll massage it better, hm? Have you had enough water?”

I sip my wine. “Not even close,” I admit. Knight’s gentle kiss brushes my ear as I cup my breast.

“I’m proud of you for doing what you can. Have I told you how much I love your neck?”His kisses pepper my skin, some quick and playful, others slow and purposeful. I slide further under the water and smooth my hands over my thighs. Four days without an orgasm was too long.“What do you want for dinner tonight? I’ll make whatever you’re craving.”

“What if I’m craving you?”

“Oh? That sounds delicious. Not as delicious as you, but you already knew that.”A smile sneaks out as I close my eyes and let the fantasy play over me. Knight kisses his way across my shoulders, and each crisp sound leaves me wanting more.“I brought you some water. Can you drink the whole thing for me?”I sip my wine at the reminder, and his subsequent moan has my hips rocking.“I love to watch you swallow.”

“I don’t need a long buildup today,” I admit. It’s embarrassing why I’m ready—I’ve been coiled tight since yesterday.

“Let me help you unwind. Lay back for me.”The soft suction of his mouth has my toes curling. His teeth scrape against my skin. In the candlelight, my fingers lengthen into his and slide between my legs. Even underwater, there is a slick arousal that’s synonymous with Knight. He moans, a quiet agony that pulls behind my navel, as if he can draw me close. There’s an unmistakable noise as his finger slides inside.“Fuck, babe. So wet for me.”

“Always,” I admit, curling my fingers, wishing they were his. The sounds of his tongue dipping in and swirling over my clit are obscene. His voice is exactly what I need. Each sound, groan, harsh breath, and slippery, smacking kiss takes me higher.

“I have endless favorites when it comes to you, but tasting you…I’ll never get enough. Are you getting close for me?”I nod, breathless. The bathwater laps against the sides of the tub as I yank one hand back up to my breast, tugging at my nipple the way I wish he could. He chuckles.“My good girl.”

I throw my head back, and my hips rock against my fingers. His moans vibrate through me as he sucks on my clit.

“You’re beautiful, just like that. So pretty with my mouth on you. Will you come for me?”

“Yes,” I sigh, my fingers moving faster.

---