Erika leads a quiet life—at least in the real world. But her alter-ego, Little Lottie, is a singer at a local club and engages in a wild online romance. For months she’s been communicating with a mysterious man, known only to her as the Phantom.
Her lover contacts her via texts, emails and instant messages. When he offers to fulfill her desires in real life, she can’t refuse. The only condition to meeting for their sizzling assignations—he wears a mask to hide his true identity. Despite his reluctance to reveal himself to Erika, he tears down her inhibitions and unleashes her suppressed passions, taking possession of her body and soul.
Erika may have finally found the one man who can sate her every longing…if only he would show her the man behind the mask.
An Excerpt From: PHANTOM TOUCH
Copyright © CINDY JACKS, 2011
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.
Seven p.m. on the dot, Erika logged in as Little Lottie. Immediately a chat window opened. It was the Phantom.
Good evening, love, so glad to have you all to myself. *Folding my arms around you*.
Hey you. *giving you a kiss*. I agree. It’s the best time of the day. So what melody have you been batting around?
Check it out.
He sent her a link to his online storage drive. The MP3 file took less than a minute to download. Queuing up the file, she chewed at her thumbnail.
Stop chewing your nails.
It’s spooky when you do that. How’d you know I’m biting my nail?
You always chew on yourself when you listen to music. Or when you’re nervous.
It’s really not fair that you’ve seen me, but I’ve never seen you.
That you know of ;)
LOL, right. That I know of.
Did you hear the track?
She queued up the sound file on her computer and pushed play. Strains of piano chords streamed from the speakers. Picking up her guitar, she worked out the chord progression.
Love the D minor sprinkled in.
A touch of Phantom, just for you.
Butterflies flitted around her stomach.
Can’t wait to touch my phantom.
*Caressing your face* We can take it slow on Saturday.
I don’t think I can. I’ve waited long enough.
Getting physical could be complicated.
Sorry. I don’t mean to press, but…what’s the big deal about getting physical?
After a few seconds, the Phantom answered.
Because it takes our relationship to another level.
I’m not sure I am.
Erika gritted her teeth. She wanted to type WHY!!!!!!!! over and over and over again. But she didn’t. Instead, she replied,
Think about it. Please. I want to make love with you. I’m sure.
When you put it that way, it’s hard not to think about it.
Pun intended? ;)
Yep. I’m really hard.
Mmm, I’m sure that’s a condition I can help you with.
I’m sure. Tell me more.
Tucking a lock of hair behind one ear, she glanced around her living room as if to be sure no one was watching her. She chuckled at her own idiocy. She was alone as usual—she lived alone, for crissakes.
I want you to kiss me passionately, pin me to the wall with your body.
Oh yeah? And then let my hand slide up your thigh.
I part my legs for you and you push a finger inside me.
Are you touching yourself now?
She slid her hand into her panties, stroking her clit.
Turn on your webcam.
Nope. Only if there’s quid pro quo.
Fine. Keep going.
She extracted the hand from between her thighs to write.
When I’m good and wet I want you to push your cock inside me.
And fuck me.
And come inside me as I come. I want to feel your juices dripping out of me.
OH YEAH. God, you are so hot.
She chewed at her thumbnail and cast a guilty look around her apartment. The curtains and shades were all drawn.
I’m not, but thank you.
Whatever. If you talk like that on Saturday, I won’t be able to control myself.
Her point exactly. If he could talk dirty like that here, what was his hang-up about Saturday night? Lacking the energy to beat a dead horse, she picked up her guitar. They spent the rest of the evening working on the music and lyrics to the new song the Phantom had begun composing. He understood music in a way she never had before. He spoke it like a language, composed full dialogues, telling her just how he felt in each chord progression. His talent awed her.
By midnight, Erika yawned and stretched.
Get some rest then, my Little Lottie.
You too. Good night, Phantom.
See you tonight in your dreams.
Maybe Saturday I’ll fall asleep in your arms, she thought but didn’t tell him. She’d pushed him enough tonight.
Closing the chat window, she rose from her desk chair and shuffled off to bed. Gaston Leroux’s Phantom of the Opera was already queued up on her e-reader. She read the scene where the phantom keeps Christine captive, training her voice—the implication that he was also training her body.
Erika’s thoughts turned to her phantom. The idea of being bound and fucked by a mysterious stranger appealed to her more than she dared admit to herself. She didn’t know what to expect Saturday night but she still had her fantasies. Would he be gentle or would he take her by the hair, pinning her to the wall as he shoved inside her? Her heartbeat sped up just thinking about it, a familiar ache manifesting between her legs.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, she looked at herself in the dresser mirror. One at a time, she undid the buttons of her pajama top. Teardrop-shaped breasts led to her soft abdomen and rounded hips. She wiggled out of her pants and knelt on the mattress, inspecting her naked form. As images of a dark figure stalking her spurred on her arousal, she stroked her skin.
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