Page 69 of Take Her from You

“God.” I eyed her phone. “Going to need to see those pictures.”

She rolled her eyes but paged through until she located a gallery of photos. An older, nude woman posed provocativelywith various cleaning items, stickers and emojis hiding the really racy stuff, along with a small, frilly apron.

“Damn,” I breathed. “We’d make so much more money if we did this.”

Daisy choked. “You’re not wrong, but can you imagine our clients? We’d give them heart attacks.”

“True. Eh, that’s a bad business model. We want the return custom.”

She grinned. “Then it’s decided—we’ll keep our clothes on.” Daisy hopped off the seat. “I came to bring the tabard but also an offer. You remember Cait who you met at drinks? Her mom is Scarlet, and she’s a hugely successful businesswoman. A total boss babe but the kindest lady, too. Cait mentioned you to her, and Scarlet offered to help decipher the contracts you’ve been sent.”

I blinked. “God, is it bad I barely remember talking about that?”

“It was a wild night, that’s for sure.” She tapped the counter, turning to leave. “I need to get to my next job, but the offer is there if you’re interested.”

“Thank you, and I’ll message Cait to thank her, too,” I called.

Several hours later, I settled Tobi into bed, her eyes shuttering almost instantly. The full-time hours and the new school were taking it out of her, so early nights were now the new way.

Which left me time to myself.

From under my bed, I retrieved a box with all the things I didn’t have homes for yet. One was an envelope I’d snagged to hold the paperwork from the Winchesters. I reached for it, fighting the urge to ignore it for longer. I didn’t care about the failing company. I even had the vague fear that Tobi might inherit debt as one third heir to his estate. Not understanding the paperwork felt like the safest solution.

My fingers grazed over the other item in the box. A long, metal container, clipped firmly closed in case of exploring children.

It was the homemade project Valentine had created for me.

He’d asked for a product review, and I’d faked my answer. Truth was, I hadn’t been brave enough to use it.

Maybe the paperwork could wait a bit longer.

I tossed the container on my bed and tucked the box away, creeping back out to check the room next door. My daughter was out cold, and if she woke in the night, it was normally during the early hours, not right after going to sleep.

Just in case, back in my cosy, lamp-lit room, I locked the door.

Then I returned to my gift. Valentine had packaged it up securely, leaving it outside my door before he left. I’d peeked, and even touched the rubber, but that was as far as I’d got.

One short conversation with him yesterday had me feeling all kinds of things that only he seemed to generate. I was overheated, over-sensitised. My blood running hot and my breasts heavy, my skin begging to be touched.

I needed an orgasm.

My Valentine stand-in was the obvious choice to give it to me.

The box had two clips on the end, and I undid them and opened it, the rude phallus inside ready and waiting for me like a cheerful stress reliever. I tipped it onto my lap, my breath hitching at the weight. It was a sizeable device, a perfect, smooth replica, even of Valentine’s thick vein, and with buttons on the end to control the vibrations.

I flicked the switch, and it buzzed against my thighs.

God, yes.

The thought of pushing it inside me spiked a fever.

I was dressed for sleep in pyjama bottoms and a strappy top, so I brought the vibrator to my chest, nudging the blunt end over one nipple, then repeating at the other side, tipping my head back at how good it felt. My heartbeat sped up, and I wriggled on the bed, my nipples hardening to bullets and my pussy getting wetter by the second. Valentine had no idea what he was missing.

Then I had an idea.

Almost shaking with nerves, I stripped my top and flicked the button to turn off the vibrations, then put the toy between my breasts. Grabbing my phone, I arranged myself and took a shot. Then I sent a quick message first.

Mia: Are you alone? I have a picture for you.

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