Page 9
Story: Sexting the Boss
“Now, let’s see…” She hums, pretending to think.
I reach for my phone, but she dodges easily, grinning like she’s won the lottery.
“Don’t worry, I won’t go too crazy,” she fake reassures me, her thumb moving across the screen. Then, before I can stop her?—
She presses send.
My stomach drops.
I yank the phone back, scrambling to see what she wrote.
“I can’t stop thinking about you. About your hands on me. What would you do if you had me all to yourself?”
I almost drop the phone.
“Oh my GOD.” My voice comes out slightly strangled.
The group howls with laughter.
James claps. Tara wipes a fake tear. Someone mutters, “Iconic.”
Meanwhile, I am actively passing away.
Ryan, barely holding back a grin, leans in. “So, uh…who did she send that to?”
I stare at the number, my stomach twisting.
I have no idea.
3
DAMIEN
The momentI step out of the shower, my phone buzzes on the counter.
I ignore it at first, grabbing a towel and running it over my hair before wrapping it around my waist. Steam curls around the mirror, distorting my reflection, but my mind is already elsewhere—half on the deal I closed earlier, half on the lingering irritation from today’s meeting.
Too many people talking. Too many half-baked ideas thrown around like they meant something.
Useless.
I rub a hand over my face and pick up my phone.
A single unread message from an unknown number.
Unknown Number: I can’t stop thinking about you. About your hands on me. What would you do if you had me all to yourself?
I pause.
Huh.
My gaze flicks over the message again, slow and assessing, but my brain is already running through possibilities.
A mistake? A wrong number?
A trap?
I roll my shoulders as I step into my bedroom. The city lights flicker beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long shadows over the room.
I reach for my phone, but she dodges easily, grinning like she’s won the lottery.
“Don’t worry, I won’t go too crazy,” she fake reassures me, her thumb moving across the screen. Then, before I can stop her?—
She presses send.
My stomach drops.
I yank the phone back, scrambling to see what she wrote.
“I can’t stop thinking about you. About your hands on me. What would you do if you had me all to yourself?”
I almost drop the phone.
“Oh my GOD.” My voice comes out slightly strangled.
The group howls with laughter.
James claps. Tara wipes a fake tear. Someone mutters, “Iconic.”
Meanwhile, I am actively passing away.
Ryan, barely holding back a grin, leans in. “So, uh…who did she send that to?”
I stare at the number, my stomach twisting.
I have no idea.
3
DAMIEN
The momentI step out of the shower, my phone buzzes on the counter.
I ignore it at first, grabbing a towel and running it over my hair before wrapping it around my waist. Steam curls around the mirror, distorting my reflection, but my mind is already elsewhere—half on the deal I closed earlier, half on the lingering irritation from today’s meeting.
Too many people talking. Too many half-baked ideas thrown around like they meant something.
Useless.
I rub a hand over my face and pick up my phone.
A single unread message from an unknown number.
Unknown Number: I can’t stop thinking about you. About your hands on me. What would you do if you had me all to yourself?
I pause.
Huh.
My gaze flicks over the message again, slow and assessing, but my brain is already running through possibilities.
A mistake? A wrong number?
A trap?
I roll my shoulders as I step into my bedroom. The city lights flicker beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long shadows over the room.
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