In the dead of night, my phone buzzes with a call that sets my heart racing. His voice, low and husky, sends shivers down my spine as he whispers, "Did I wake you up?" I know she's right there next to him, but he can't resist the pull. "Yeah, I missed you a fucking lot," I confess, my voice dripping with desire. We're playing with fire, but the thrill of the forbidden makes every whispered word, every heated moan, worth the risk. He's mine, if only for these stolen moments, and I intend to make the most of them.