My Anonymous Lover (Forbidden Fantasies 57)

Her bottom lip turns down in a pout.

“Ginny, I told you about it when I first asked you to go with me!” Vanessa says. “It’s a fundraiser for a mayoral candidate. Remember? I told you: this absolutely gorgeous guy is running for office. His name is Jeremiah Cooke, and I swear, this man is to die for—”

“Vanessa,” I cut in, hardly listening. “I don’t care about Jeremiah Cooke and the mayoral race. I’ve barely gotten any shut eye in weeks, and I really need to relax.”

But my friend won’t listen.

“You’re going. You have to.”

“But I can’t go!” I exclaim. “Listen, I didn’t want to tell you this and risk ruining your happy mood, but I’ll just be honest. My cat died, and I’m sooo sad, so—”

Vanessa stares at me on the screen.

“Don’t even try that with me. Pebbles died in 2019, and I remember attending her funeral, when we buried her ashes under that tree in your backyard. Plus, you haven’t owned a feline since then, so don’t even try the cat excuse.”

“Well…” I stumble over my words, trying to come up with something else to say. Dang, Vanessa knows me too well because we’ve been friends since high school. While a lot of our crowd drifted away after graduation, we still talk quite a bit actually. But still, I try again.

“Fine, I’ll be honest,” are my hesitant words. “I’m actually feeling a little sick, and I think it’s the Cup O’ Noodles from last night—”

“You’re going,” my friend states in a flat voice. “I already got the tickets. It’s done.”

“But Vanessa,” I huff. “I don’t have anything to wear! What are you even supposed to wear to an event like this?”

“Just throw on a little black dress. That’s always a safe choice.”

“But what kind of black dress?” I whine. “I only own three and none of them are exactly modest because you know how I dress when I go out at night. Like a stripper.”

“Any black dress will do,” my friend answers, clearly over me and my attempts to bail. “It isn’t like we’re attending New York Fashion Week, and I doubt anyone will really care what you show up wearing. They’re trying to raise money, so the more people the better. Besides, you always look good. People say you resemble Megan Fox, Gin, and you really do, with your raven locks and stunning blue eyes.”

I sigh.

“Thanks, but sweet-talking me is not going to make me want to attend some political fundraiser. I’m not even interested in politics!”

This is where my friend gets crafty.

“Yeah, but you are interested in men, and there will be lots of men tonight, so at least you’ll get to have some fun. Plus, I’m telling you, once you see Jeremiah Cooke, you’re going to lose your mind! That guy is H-O-T.”

“I don’t know, Vanessa—”

My friend frowns threateningly this time.

“Don’t make me come over there and slap you, Gins. I’ll do it if I must, but I really don’t want to. Besides, I need you to come. You know I don’t like going to events by myself, and I don’t have anyone else to go with. Plus, I hardly ever get out of the house because you know I’ve been taking care of my great-aunt, and attending this fundraiser is the most social that I’ve been in a long time! I promise it’ll be fun, okay? Just come with me! For twenty minutes, okay? Ten minutes, even.”

I heave a sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. I can’t turn my best friend down when she’s begging like this, and besides, Vanessa’s right. Taking care of her sick relative has been a struggle, so it would be nice for her to get out of the house just for a small dose of human interaction. I guess my movie night will have to wait, but maybe that isn’t such a bad thing. There wasn’t anything good on Netflix anyways.

“Fine,” I grumble. “I’ll go with you, but you owe me!”

Vanessa squeals loudly and we both giggle then.

“Okay, go get ready,” my friend directs. “Remember: little black dress, but nothing too sketchy."

I give her a pointed look.

"Every dress that I own is sketchy."

"Then pick the least sketchy one,” she says, and with that, we giggle again and hang up. Hell, maybe this could be fun. I always like getting dressed up and who knows? Maybe by the end of the evening, I’ll have met a man with a muscular build, powerful hips, and a cock that reminds me of my glory hole guy. A girl can fantasize, right? With that, I smile and saunter to my closet, dreaming of what-ifs.

4

GINNY

I look around the crowded lobby of the Linwood Hotel, heart thumping. Scattered about are suave, sophisticated people standing around in small clumps, chatting while drinking their wine. The crowd is elegantly dressed in suits and very appropriate cocktail dresses, whereas I’m not exactly clad in the same type of formal attire. Don’t get me wrong, my little black dress goes to my knee and covers my shoulders, but the fact is that when you have raven hair, creamy skin, and an hourglass figure, almost every item of clothing looks sexy. I’d have to wear a black garbage bag to tone it down.