Master of the Opera, Act 3: Phantom Serenade

Cover Master of the Opera, Act 3: Phantom Serenade
Though the night was cool, she put the top down and let the wind chill her ears and toss her short hair around her eyes with stinging bites. They reminded her of the way the whip had fallen on her vulnerable, upturned bottom, and how she’d been restrained, unable to defend herself. Totally at the Master’s mercy and every desire.
The one orgasm hadn’t been nearly enough. She wanted more. Much more. In this erotic haze, even the seam of her jeans pressing on her clit could be nearly enough to mak
...e her come again. She wriggled, pushing herself closer.
Her cell rang—a jangling new ringtone that nearly sent her swerving off the road.
She grabbed the phone, if only to make it stop, and saw Roman’s name on the screen. He must have programmed the ring himself when he had her phone at his house. One of those techno beats that all sounded the same.
She didn’t want to answer, but she did.
“Hey there, sweet girl. Are you back yet?”
What had she said she was doing? That was the problem with lies—it took work to remember and consolidate your stories.
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