Author Anonymous - E.K. Blair Page 0,115

like to explore?

Clicking on his profile, I quickly read through his fetishes again, and pick one without having to go for the obvious choice of voyeurism.

BOSTONXGIRL: Sensory deprivation intrigues me.

ALEC107: Anything else?

BOSTONXGIRL: A lot of things intrigue me, including you.

I need to go for blunt because I don’t have time to waste building this fake relationship to get answers to the questions I have right now.

ALEC107: You have a picture? I’d like to know what you look like.

Shit.

BOSTONXGIRL: Hold on.

Without wasting a minute, I hop onto Facebook and quickly scroll through my list of friends until I come across the most decent and attractive person I can find. It only takes me a minute or two before I’m saving the photo. Clicking back to our message thread, I upload the photo and send it to him.

Yeah, I’m that low that I would swipe one of my fan’s photos to send to Alec, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

ALEC107: Fucking beautiful.

“That’s what you say to me, dick face,” I seethe under my breath. I can’t believe that he’s doing this—that he has been doing this.

I try not to think about how many women he’s sought out since I’ve been with him, but even if it were only this once, which I know isn’t the truth, it’s enough to make me question every damn thing about him.

BOSTONXGIRL: You’re not so bad yourself. But if I’m being honest, I’d like to see more.

It doesn’t take but five seconds for him to send a file through. I click on it, waiting for it to download, and when it’s done, my stomach convulses in a putrid wave of nausea.

A picture of him lying in the bed I woke up in this morning appears. It’s a selfie of him holding his erection, but I know he didn’t just take that because he’s not even at his loft right now. This fucker has nudes stored on his phone, most likely for occasions just like this.

My body chills in horror when I contemplate the idea that I’ve been nothing but a game to him.

But why? Why me? Why a year?

Maybe this is his real fetish—seeking out inexperienced women, vanilla women, and getting them to fall for him while filling their naïve heads with lies.

Fucking lies!

And from a man who has given me so much shit about not trusting him.

BOSTONXGIRL: Nice cock.

ALEC107: Your turn.

I go balls to the wall because I need to know the truth about this man I’ve allowed myself to fall in love with, the man I’m about to divorce my husband for, the man who has pulled the rug out from my whole world.

BOSTONXGIRL: I don’t send nude photos of myself to anyone, but if you’d like to take a peek, why don’t you meet me for a drink.

ALEC107: When and where?

Through the storm of fury that’s raising my blood pressure to an all-time high, tears flood my eyes. The thorns I bear suddenly turn on me, puncturing my own heart, killing what I thought was so real. Because he made me believe in him. God, am I that fucking gullible?

BOSTONXGIRL: You free tonight? Eastern Standard?

ALEC107: I have I prior commitment, but I can manage a quick drink. 5:30?

That prior commitment is me. I can’t believe he plans on meeting a girl before coming home from work to have dinner with me.

BOSTONXGIRL: Looking forward to it.

I don’t even wait for his reply before I slam my laptop closed. I want to send it flying across the room. I want to fucking scream and cry. I want to throw my fist into his face that’s so beautiful it should be sculpted in marble.

Who the hell is this man?

I don’t want to believe this is true. I want to believe he is exactly who he claims to be. I want to trust him, because to not trust him is to not be with him, and I want to be with him because it’s too painful to imagine not being with him.

I have a couple hours before Alec will show up at Eastern Standard, and I can’t allow time to spiral my emotions out of control. I need to distract myself or otherwise I’ll do nothing but drive myself crazy in a panic of unthinkable outcomes to this situation.

Grabbing my car keys, I force my body to move, because I have no other choice. I make my way down to the parking garage, get in my car, and head to Cambridge. Music blasts through the speakers in

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