I get up early, workout to keep my mind occupied, and then I get my coffee and head into the office. I try to distract myself with work, but I can’t stop thinking about that package and about Sadie. She’s so fucking gorgeous and smart and funny, and she probably doesn’t even realize how much she has to offer. I bet her family keeps her locked up tight, ready to be traded off to some other rich family in exchange for some business ties or some shit.
A few hours trickle past. I keep looking at the clock and feeling more and more anxious. No one comes or goes, and soon I’m forced to have lunch. I eat at my desk, unable or unwilling to leave my office. I don’t know why. I keep looking at my phone, willing it to ring, but it doesn’t.
The day slowly slips past. I know she got it, or at least the couriers say it was delivered to her address. Maybe the family intercepted it and I’m fucked, or maybe she’s just so insulted that she won’t respond to me. I can’t imagine that’s the case, though, but the lunch hour comes and goes and I hear nothing.
All day passes. I’m practically sweating this goddamn thing, and I almost start to regret sending it.
But no, no, I don’t regret shit. I want this girl, and I need to find a way to get her. Maybe this package didn’t work, but something else will. I’m not giving up so easily.
I head home around seven that night, disappointed but accepting my situation. If she got the package and didn’t call, that means she’s probably beyond my reach. But if she didn’t get it, that meant the family knows what I’ve sent her, and I’m in deep shit.
I don’t care about the family. I’m more worried that I can’t even get a rise out of her. Which actually does interest me even more. If she’s so cool and calm and collected that a vibrator and some lingerie in the mail doesn’t provoke a reaction, she must be a really interesting girl, even more than I realized.
I have a glass of whisky and I read the news, and around eight o’clock, when I’ve finally began to think about a new plan for Sadie, my phone starts to ring.
My stomach lurches with excitement. It’s a number I don’t recognize. I let it ring one more time before answering.
“Hello,” I say.
There’s a pause. “Gavin?”
It’s Sadie’s voice. My grin threatens to tear my face apart. “Sadie,” I say. “I was wondering when I’d hear from you.”
She pauses again. “I got your, uh, presents.”
“Good,” I say. “I hope you liked them.”
“They were, uh, inappropriate.” Despite her words, she doesn’t sound angry.
“Inappropriate can be good sometimes.”
She pauses again. I can tell that she’s thinking seriously about what she’s going to say next. “You can’t keep sending me things,” she says.
“I can stop,” I say. “But I’m not sure you really want me to.”
“You’re going to get me in trouble.”
I smirk to myself, leaning back in my chair. “Maybe I want to get you in trouble. Maybe you need a little trouble in your life.”
“You don’t know that,” she says softly.
“Did you like my presents?” I ask. “Did you try them on?”
Anther pause, and my grin gets bigger. That means she did.
“Please, don’t send anything else. I’m afraid my family will catch it.” She changed the subject. She definitely tried that lingerie on, maybe even used the vibrator. My cock is hard as hell as I imagine her wearing nothing but the bra and panties, the panties shoved to one side to show off her perfect little pussy, the vibrator rolling along her skin, her moans filling the room.
“Agree to meet with me and I won’t send another thing,” I say, needing that image to become a reality. I want to make her wear that outfit and to get herself off with that vibrator while she sucks my cock. I want to get her begging for more before I’m done with her.
“Okay,” she says, barely a whisper.
“I’ll make the arrangements. I’ll text you when it’s ready.”
I can practically see her, dripping wet, biting her lip. “This is a bad idea,” she says. “I shouldn’t see you. I shouldn’t even be talking to you.”
“And yet you are talking to me and you’re going to see me. Even after I sent you two very inappropriate gifts. What does that say about you, Sadie?”
“I don’t know,” she admits.
“I know. It says that you’re a dirty fucking girl, and you want to see exactly how dirty you can get with me.”
I hear a slight intake of air and I know I’ve pushed her. I smirk to myself.