“Bye, Olivia,” he said.
“Bye,” she replied, running her finger across the screen to hang up.
The darkness of her bedroom seemed very empty. It was after three in the morning, and she knew she should be getting some sleep, but she felt restless.
If only there was some way to show him how I feel. That I’m thinking about him.
Her mind ran over the details of his face, lingering on his beautiful lips and deep, glittering eyes. The hard edges of his cheekbones and the sharp cut of his jaw all gave him a noble, regal look. This was offset by the tumble of dark hair that looked like it was begging her to run her fingers through it.
He’s so fucking sexy.
Then, Olivia had a moment of inspiration. She was so excited that a man like Henry could be interested in her that she was cruising on a high of pure exuberance.
She flipped open her phone and opened the camera. One hand flashed out and flicked on the lamp, bathing her in a hazy glow.
Olivia wriggled in bed, propping herself just slightly on a pillow. She pulled her nightgown down a little, so her breasts swelled up into the V-neck, framing them with lace. She tilted her phone up over her head and pulled a sultry face as she snapped the shot.
Without even thinking, she hit send immediately. She couldn’t wait for him to see her all curled up in bed, looking sweet and sexy for him.
Once her phone made the little swoosh sound indicating that the message had been sent, regret suddenly sliced through her chest.
What the hell have I done? What is he going to think of me?
Instead of thinking she was sending him a sweet pic and giving him a special gift no one else would ever see, he might think this was something she did all the time. Maybe he would think she flashed her breasts to anyone and everyone she chatted to over the phone. The idea made her sick with horror.
I’ve never done anything like that before … should I try to convince him?
A dozen or so messages flew through her mind. She tried to organize them into coherent words. Olivia even opened up Henry’s thread and hovered her thumb over the keyboard. When she realized she was right on the verge of sending a hundred poorly composed messages, she almost threw the phone across the room.
She didn’t, though. She stared at the screen. Everything would be fine if she could just see his reaction.
Maybe … he loved it. Maybe he’s drooling over it and touching himself right now. Maybe it made him feel incredibly special.
To Olivia’s half panicked state, it was just as plausible that he was embarrassed, thinking she was a slut, or just plain offended.
She stared at the screen, praying, begging for some response, any response.
The screen remained blank. Her heart twisted in her chest as if she were going into cardiac arrest. There was no way to take back the message now.
Why doesn’t he say something, anything?
But her phone remained silent and dark.
Henry did not reply.