Voices in the Dark Read Online Free PDF

dark, scary part in all of us just waiting to come out. We fear showing it to the world, because we’re terrified of being judged on that ugliness alone. But Adrian has seen my inner shadow, and he hasn’t run. Yet.
    Was calling his roommate truly an accident? Just a simple coincidence? Or was it something stronger, such as fate, which tugged at my hand and led me toward my Christmas miracle?
    I push that corny thought away as I rise and thump the book closed, trapping Adrian’s note between the pages. As I slide the novel onto the nearest bookshelf, I resolve not to look at it again that night.
    An hour later, I fail miserably.
    * * * * *
    Aside from having sexual needs that are abnormal to say the least, and being snarky and rude to my coworkers on occasion, I’m also a coward. Which probably explains a few things about the reason I choose to get off with strangers over the phone.
    The ultimate in safe sex, indeed.
    Anyway, I’m not proud of it. But it’s who I am.
    So that’s why the next morning, I call in sick to work. Just the thought of facing Adrian, of having him corner me in the kitchen again, sets my knees to knocking.
    I’m not sure what I think I’ll accomplish by postponing the inevitable. I convince myself that having more time to think about what I’ll say will help. And that a few more hours’ worth of distance between us will clear my head. I’m determined that when next we meet, I’ll be cool, collected and composed.
    But I don’t feel calm—not by a long shot.
    Every time I think about last night, a flush breaks out over my chest and creeps up the column of my throat. My nipples pebble, and my pussy creams as the memory of the most incredible orgasm of my life racks me, over and over again.
    30

    Voices in the Dark
    Adrian would see right through me. One look at my reddened face, one glimpse into my lust-glazed eyes and he’d know the effect he has on me.
    Which means I have to pull myself together today, because I don’t have the luxury of taking another sick day tomorrow. I’ve already booked some time off between Christmas and the New Year to see my family, so that means I only have to get through one day with Adrian. Christmas Eve.
    Suddenly, I’m more homesick than I’ve been since moving to New York six years ago. A wave of loneliness crashes into me, and I burrow under a blanket on the couch.
    That’s when I decide I need a good dose of girl therapy, so I do what I’ve always done when I need to unwind.
    I unplug the phone, pour myself a bowl of frosted cereal, and proceed to spend the morning and afternoon watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer reruns on TV.
    Night comes early this time of year. By five o’clock, twilight’s creeping into my apartment. The wind rises, rattles the fire escape, howls at the windows. I’ve gotten used to pigeons cooing at all hours of the day and night but even they’ve disappeared when confronted by this infernal tempest.
    I live on the second floor of an old brownstone. There are two other apartments besides mine, but I’ve never met my neighbors. I hear them every now and again, but for the most part, I pretend they don’t exist. I’m thankful they’re quiet, and like me, don’t get many visitors.
    So when a knock on the door echoes through my living room, followed by the chime of a doorbell—a sound I only hear when I order Chinese food from the takeout place across the street—I leap off the couch, hitting the mute button on the remote as I go.
    My heart knocks hard against my rib cage. This is New York. I might have been raised a Texas cowgirl, but I know better than to open the door when I’m not expecting company.
    31

    Lacey Savage
    I creep toward the entrance, trying to make as little noise as possible. Not that there’s any chance whoever’s out there will think I’m not at home. All the lights are on in my apartment, and until a second ago, the TV was blaring.
    I reach the door, plaster myself against it, and rise on the tips