This book was totally inspired by a magnet…really.
There was another letter, sitting there on her desk. She felt her heart skip a beat as heat pooled low in her belly. Glancing around, she made sure nobody else had seen it. More instinctive than anything, since she was usually one of the first ones in the office.
Slowly, her hands shaking, she reached out. A poem this time?Another short story that would have her quivering and ready to beg for climax?
Not this time.
This time it just read, Soon.
Holy shit, he had meant it.
Whoever it was that called her late at night—whoever it was that left these dirty little stories, or romantic poems—was going to finally come out and meet her. Face to face.
The first letter had come nearly four months earlier, on Valentine’s Day, with a basket that held some interesting little items. A pair of cloth restraints— like handcuffs—but made of soft material that wouldn’t cause pain. A feather. A bottle of massage oil.
A can of whipped cream.
And a magnet.
The magnet had read