Page 2 of Sinfully Mine

“Hey, Skull Reaper,” she greeted me as we connected.

I didn’t expect the sultry, subtle rasp to her voice. Fuck me. It was beyond sexy. “Hey, Grace. Thanks for the assist.”

“My pleasure. You just join the game today?”

“Sure did. Don’t know what the hell I’m doin’ yet.”

A light, husky laugh followed. “It won’t take long to get the hang of it.”

“Yeah, probably.” I never had any issues learning a new game or piece of tech. My brain sorted that shirt fast. I’d have this game conquered in a day or two.

“You play online much?”

“Just evenings. Need a way to unwind after work.”

“I hear you,” she agreed, using that laugh again that managed to tickle the inside of my ears through my headphones while also sending little jolts of arousal through my body. She had the kind of voice that could get a guy off over the phone because it was that fucking attractive. Not that I intended to do that. I just enjoyed hearing her speak.

“Maybe we could play together sometime,” I offered.

“I’ve got some time now. You do the intro missions yet with the Overseer?”

I laughed. “Nope.”

“Then we’re gonna do that right now.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Four hours later, I finally quit the game and ended the chat. Grace helped me through several challenging missions, and we spent the majority of the time chatting like we’d known one another for years. It was that easy. No awkward pauses, either.

For the next month, we played together nearly every night. I looked forward to her popping online, becoming addicted to that notification showing her name. I logged onto the game and intomy character, doing random shit until I saw her join my chat, and her sexy voice greeted me. It became the highlight of every fucking day. She brought light into the darkness and sweetness where my life had gone sour. Cliché? Probably. But I didn’t care.

I liked Grace.

Even if I didn’t have a clue what she looked like, I enjoyed speaking to her and playing the game together. Would it ever go any further than this? I doubted it.

We never flirted. Well, maybe a little. But we spent that time as friends, doing something we both enjoyed without the pressure of having to define what it had become. One night, I decided to ask a question about her personal life. We’d avoided it until now, discussing safe topics like work, the weather, games we played, and foods we liked to eat. But I wanted to know more.

“So, Grace, I’ve got a question.”

“Go for it.”

“Even if it’s personal? And maybe too intimate?”

I heard her clear her throat. “Is it sexual?”

“No,” I replied firmly.

“Then go ahead.”

“Are you seeing anyone?”

She laughed. “Dating, you mean?”

“Sure.”

“No.”

“No boyfriend or husband?” I persisted.

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