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I grab another glass and pour myself three fingers, but I only take a sip this time. I need to get control.
My phone dings and I pull it out of my pocket. I hate how my heart skips a beat at the sight of Emily’s name.
Unable to stop myself, I open the message, and the out-of-control sensation seeps away with her words.
Emily: Hi, Alden. I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch. I needed some space after the arrest, and work has been crazy. I’d love to have dinner with you as long as you don’t mind me being a jailbird.
I should say no.
Alden: That’s completely understandable.
Liar. I don’t want her needing space.
Alden: And no, I don’t mind. It’s kind of sexy that you’ve spent time in jail. When are you free?
Emily: LOL. Can you do tomorrow?
Alden: Yes, and this time I’ll pick you up to make sure no one else has kidnapped you before dinner.
Emily: Lmao. Does that mean you’re kidnapping me?
Don’t fucking tempt me.
Alden: I guess you’ll have to wait and see.
Emily: I look forward to it. See you tomorrow, Alden.
Alden: See you tomorrow.
As soon as I lock my phone, my body sags with relief.
“What the fuck?”
I’m completely out of my mind. This isn’t normal. But I can’t deny that the heavy weight on my chest has eased. I down the rest of my drink, letting the liquid burn and warm me.
Taking a deep breath, I head for the bedroom. But as I get closer to the door, I have to grab my head. Dizzy…everything is spinning. I crash into the doorframe and stumble sideways into my room.
What the hell is going on?
Halfway to my bed, I trip over my feet and hit the ground hard. I try to shake the fog clouding the edges of my vision, but it’s no use. Crawling the rest of the way, I haul myself up onto my bed, then flop back and stare at the ceiling.
Every noise is…so loud.
“Alden, sweetie, are you okay?”
I turn my head. Emily is standing there in a black negligée. I blink as she walks closer, and my cock hardens with each step.
“Em…Emily?”
She smiles as bright as the summer sun. A rainbow of colors sparkles around her like a halo. I reach for the mirage, and she grips my hand, then places a kiss on my knuckles.
“Who else would it be?”
That’s a good question. Did I invite her here? Did I invite someone else? No…I don’t want anyone else.
“Were you dreaming about me?”
I lick my lips. Am I?