“Just enjoying the talents of your script writers. Boy, those guys are good.”
I hear voices in the background. Male voices. Male voices that aren’t speaking English…but they’re not speaking German, either. I don’t speak German, but it’s very distinct, and that definitely isn’t it.
In fact, it sounds much like the exotic language I heard—or imagined I heard—James murmur into my ear as I thrashed through an epic orgasm.
I listen to the sound of footsteps until the voices fade into the background and disappear. Either the men moved away from James, or he moved away from them.
His voice husky, he says, “I left something else for you in the apartment. Go check the left drawer of the dresser in the bedroom.”
My curiosity piqued, I rise and go to the bedroom. In the dresser drawer I find a square black box tied with a red ribbon. “You bought me another gift?” I ask, touched. “When did you find time to hide all this stuff?”
“Open it.”
“Let me put the phone down for a sec so I can use both hands.” I set the phone on the dresser and eagerly untie the ribbon, then lift off the top of the box. When I see the beautiful gold and diamond earrings with a matching necklace sparkling on a bed of white silk, I gasp.
Holy shit. These must’ve cost a fortune.
I blow out a breath and pick up the phone again. “James, this necklace is incredible. And those butterflies…I’ve never seen such pretty earrings in my life.”
He laughs, delighted by the awe in my voice. “That isn’t a necklace and earrings, sweetheart. Take it out.”
Not a necklace and earrings?
Confused, I pick up one of the diamond butterflies and discover that they’re attached to the chain by delicate chains of their own. Small gold clamps decorate the backs. When I lift the butterfly higher, more of the delicate chain unwinds from the bed of silk, which is when I realize the end of the chain also has a butterfly with a small gold clamp.
The whole thing makes the shape of a Y, with a gold circle the size of a quarter in the center where the three chains are attached.
I hold it up and stare at it, trying to figure it out. “I don’t get it.”
“Think, love. Where might I like to use three small clamps on your body?”
My eyes go wide and my voice gets high. “I’m guessing…not on my toes?”
“Somewhere a little more sensitive,” he murmurs, his voice warm.
Probably not my earlobes or fingertips, either. I gulp, starting to sweat.
“Put it on and send me pictures.”
“I have no idea how to put this thing on. I might permanently damage something. Besides, I’m technology challenged. I don’t even know how to use this phone.”
If I thought that would get me off the hook, I was wrong. James has everything covered.
“The phone is voice activated, and my number’s already programmed into it. Just point it at yourself and say, ‘Take a picture and send to James.’ Go ahead and try it.”
I hold the phone a foot away from my face and repeat his direction. There’s the smallest electronic ding, and that’s it. The screen stays pitch black. I put the phone back to my ear. “How do I know it worked? I can’t see anything on my end!”
“Because I have a picture of you scrunching up your nose at me, that’s how. By the way, your hair looks great.” He switches back into bossy mode, his voice going dark. “Now take off all your clothes, put on the butterflies, and send me my pictures.”
“Um…yeah, I’m gonna have to take a pass on that, Romeo. If nudes of me ever leaked online, my publisher would drop me like a hot potato.”
“You know I’d never share pictures of you with anyone else.”
The hot possessiveness in his tone makes me smile. “Yes, I do. But phones have a nasty habit of getting hacked.”
“That phone is unhackable. Anything you send to me is encrypted with ciphers that can’t be broken.”
When I pause for too long, wondering why he’d own an unhackable phone, he says lightly, “I’ve got a buddy who manufactures them for the government.”
“Oh. Cool. Wait—does that mean the government can spy on me with this thing?”
He chuckles. “They don’t need a phone to spy on you.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better.”
“Don’t worry about it too much. If you’re not a bad guy, they’re not interested in you. Back to my pictures. Send me some.”
I scrunch up my face. “I mean, I want to? In theory? Because I know you’d like it? But honestly, it’s not really my thing. I wasn’t exaggerating when I said I’m technology challenged. I’d accidentally send a close up of my armpit. Which, in case you haven’t noticed, is not the armpit of a supermodel. There’s some serious random stuff going on in there. If armpit cellulite is a thing, I’ve got it. I’d rather rig myself up with this beautiful sex jewelry when you’re here in person to help me.”
His laugh is long, throaty, and beautiful. “Fuck. You’re criminally adorable.”
For some strange reason, that comment makes me think of Chris. Crying-in-the-men’s-room Chris, who suddenly thinks he’s in love with me.
“Yeah. I’m a real prize, all right.”
Whatever James hears in my answer makes his voice turn sharp and demanding. “What does that mean?”
His acute perception is getting to be so commonplace, I’m hardly surprised by it anymore. But still, I don’t want to dig into this particular dirt. “I was only being sarcastic. It doesn’t mean anything.”
“Are you aware, Olivia, that you’re a terrible liar?”
My sigh is deep and resigned. “Okay, fine. But don’t be mad when I tell you, because you asked.” I wait until he growls his assent to continue. “Chris was acting really strange at lunch today. He said a lot of weird things.”
James’s voice turns deadly soft. “What things?”
Oh dear.“Really, it’s nothing.”
He insists, “Tell me.”