Page 88 of Sexting the Boss

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Instead, my fingers are flying over my keyboard.

Me: What if I don’t want the dress?

Unknown Number: You do.

I let out a frustrated noise, tossing my phone onto my bed.

He’s so damn smug.

I glare at the dress like it personally offended me.

Of course I want it.

It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever touched.

And he knows it.

My phone buzzes again.

Unknown Number: Have you saved my number yet?

I purse my lips, gripping my phone again.

Me: Why would I do that?

Unknown Number: So you don’t have to keep calling me unknown number.

I smirk.

Me: I think it suits you.

His response is immediate.

Unknown Number: Cold, printsessa. Very cold.

I bite my lip, trying not to smile.

Then—

Unknown Number: Be ready by seven on Saturday.

I blink.

Me: For what?

Unknown Number: The charity ball. I’m taking you.

My heart stumbles.

My fingers tighten around my phone as I read the words again.

Me: Like…a date?

Unknown Number: If you want to call it that.

I sputter.

Oh, no.

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