Page 47 of Ravage

See you Friday.

I stared at my phone, and for a minute, there was nothing. I thought that was the end of our back-and-forth when my phone buzzed once again. I smiled as I looked down at the screen and read:

Emery:

One more thing.

I laughed under my breath, then replied:

Me:

You’re killing me, Em.

Emery:

Are you sure you’re up for this?

Because I seriously have no clue what I’m doing.

I stared at the screen and groaned, “Yeah, Em. Neither do I.”

8

EMERY

It was finally Friday.

And I was less than an hour away from my first lesson with Ravage, and I was suddenly second-guessing all of my life choices. I should’ve never agreed to this madness, but I did, and there was no going back now.

I was about to have my first lesson about sex with a man who had more experience than I even wanted to think about, and I was determined not to embarrass myself, which is why I asked so many questions.

Some of them were legit, but others, like what I should wear, were just me playing along. I wasn’t completely clueless. I knew how to dress sexy. I didn’t do it often, but I knew when I turned heads or was noticed for what I was wearing. It was what happened after a man actually looked at me that made me stumble.

I blame that on the lack of experience.

And I blame that on the Fury men scaring off any and all of my potential male prospects.

It was one of the reasons I’d spent far too long trying to decide what to wear. Eventually, I decided to go with the dark green nightie and matching lace undergarments. It was soft and silky, and it hit high on my thighs, making my long legs look even longer. I’d curled my hair and pulled part of it in a clip, letting some of the curls fall loose around my shoulders. I put on more makeup than usual, but it completed the look.

I checked my fit in the mirror, and it didn’t look half bad. In fact, I looked good. Damn good. I glanced over at the clock, and when I saw that it was already eight-forty-five, my heart started to race. The closer it crept to nine, the harder it was to pretend that this was all some game I knew how to play.

I wanted him to look at me and forget every reason he shouldn’t. At the same time, I was worried he would look at me and remember all of them. “Yeah, I’m definitely going to need that glass of wine.”

I left my room and hurried into the kitchen. I grabbed the bottle from the fridge, and just as I popped the cork, I spotted something move across the floor.

I froze.

I thought it was just my imagination until I spotted the little gray blur again, this time darting under my sofa. For a second, I wasn’t sure what I’d seen, and then it hit me.

Panic washed over me as I gasped, “No!”

I took a step back as I stared at the sofa, waiting anxiously to see if I saw it again. At first, there was nothing. I hoped that it had magically disappeared through whatever hole or crevice he’d come through, but then I saw his little nose poke from beneath the sofa. And that’s when I screamed, and I screamed loud.

“Oh, my God! No!”

I hopped up on the coffee table so fast I nearly took out the TV and the lamp. I inched up on my tiptoes as I yelped, “Get! Go!”

I stared down at the floor, but there was no sign of him.