His last message had me practically squirming at my desk. I typed a response about four times, and deleted it every time. It was basically just variations of ‘hell yes’, but every time I thought I had the right words, that voice returned.
Only a complete whore would be sending messages like this to a man. You were raised better than this.
Eventually, I forced myself to focus on work, but that only lasted so long, before I picked up my phone again.
Me: Sorry, work distractions. I shouldn’t be sending such slutty messages. I’m sorry.
There was no response for maybe twenty minutes, and then my phone started to ring. The name which flashed up was MyBiker. Oh hell. I swallowed hard, noting then that I was receiving a few sharp looks from others in the office. I quickly swiped the reject call button.
“Sorry.” I murmured, feeling my cheeks heating up.
I turned back to my computer, and checked the list of figures I was inputting, trying to find my place again.
My phone started to ring again. Again, I swiped to reject the call, my cheeks flaming while I avoided the looks of my colleagues. Damn him.
MyBiker: Answer your phone, little angel, or I’m coming in.
What? My head lifted, and I glanced at the windows across from me. Could he really be out there?
MyBiker: Counting to ten.
Shit! I grabbed the phone, and hurried out of the main office area, and into the hallway.
Me: I’m working!
My phone rang again, and I answered it quickly, before it would disturb anyone else.
“What was that crap?” He practically barked at me as soon as I answered. I felt a little shiver just from hearing his voice again.
“Adam, I’m at work! I can’t take personal calls.”
He chuckled suddenly. “It’s nearly your lunchtime.”
I frowned. How the hell did he know that?
“Well, I’m guessing that part, but it’s approaching noon.”
I sighed suddenly. “You’re not really outside my work, are you?”
He laughed, sending a delightful chill along my spine. “Well, I would be, if you’d told me where you work, little angel.”
I glanced around, making sure nobody was listening, because I shouldn’t have sneaked away to take the call.
“I thought you were a private investigator. Isn’t finding people what you do?”
Another chuckle. “Challenge accepted, Julie. What time is your lunch break?”
I sighed, wishing I could take the afternoon off and go somewhere with him. “Twelve thirty. I get forty five minutes.”
He fell silent for a moment. “Don’t underestimate me… I’ll be outside your office at twelve thirty.”
He rang off, and I frowned. He had very little time to find me, and I wasn’t convinced he could do it.