Voyeur - Lacey Alexander [22]
And so what if she’d found her muse over the last couple of days? Surely that had just happened naturally, and Braden Stone’s bizarre entry into her life had, if anything, been more of a distraction than a help.
Well, okay, maybe he had inspired her to create a whole new character. A character who had driven the story up to this point and would probably continue to drive it.
But that didn’t mean she needed Braden’s presence to continue. If he’d inspired her to inject a little romantic excitement into Riley’s life, then his job was done and she could move on without him.
Despite that fine lecture, however, she soon found herself exiting the bedroom, still in the corset and panties, still carrying the purple vibrator. She didn’t know why and didn’t ponder it. She walked downstairs, turned off the sound system—ready for some quiet time—and headed for the kitchen. She set the vibrator on the counter in order to pour herself a glass of wine. When she took a sip, her throat felt thick, as did her crotch. Every key part of her body had grown swollen and heavy. With desire, definitely. But also with temptation?
And why the hell was she carrying the damn penis around with her?
With a forlorn sigh, she transported the vibrator to the living room and tucked it between the couch cushions. An idea struck her—that maybe she’d just leave it there. And maybe sometime during a family gathering or some other inopportune moment, someone would find it, and wouldn’t Mr. Stone feel silly then?
Ah hell, probably not. He’d probably laugh it off—he was likely so confident and charming that he could even find a graceful way out of having a purple penis turn up in his living room.
She returned to the kitchen for the bottle of wine and her glass, then settled on the couch. She peered out into the snow, although darkness now made it so that she could discern only a vague line between ground and sky. Given what she wore, she found herself envisioning a romantic evening here with a lover. A normal romantic evening. With a normal lover. The kind who was actually in the room with her. The attire was right. As was the low lighting and the fire. The wine, too. The only thing missing was the man.
She glanced at the crack between the couch cushions. Could she? And did she want to? She must, at least a little—or what was she doing dressed and in position like this?
Predictably nervous now, she drank more wine—two glasses. She listened to the silence. She lay back and closed her eyes and imagined the man in the fishing picture there with her, using strong hands to part her legs, then entering her with his thick, hard erection. Mmm, yes. Fuck me, Braden. Fuck me now. She was glad she’d found out his name.
Some time later, she opened her eyes to darkness. She’d fallen asleep. Her eyes focused immediately on the mantel clock in the still dimly lit room. Five ’til ten. She sighed. Sat up. Poured another glass of wine.
She could have slept right through the “appointment.” She imagined Braden’s reaction if he’d “tuned in” to see her asleep in her new corset and panties. He’d have thought she’d had every intention of performing for him but had just conked out from the alcohol. As it was, she still didn’t have a plan—but she knew she needed more wine, so she swiftly drank the glass she’d just poured. And noticed that she wasn’t racing away from the webcam.
At ten on the dot, she found herself looking over at the computer, the closest she could come to looking at him. As usual since getting here, the wine had her feeling drunker than it should have. Like a woman who knew how to go with the flow—even if her mind still fought against the extremes of what he’d asked her to do.
“Are you there?” she asked. But she somehow knew he was, could almost feel his presence, his eyes, from hundreds of miles away.
“I’m not