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The crease in Carine’s brow deepened.
The room was chilly. Heidi had turned the thermostat down while she’d entered with her coffee.
“You can give them up, or I can take them away from you,” Heidi said. “Your choice. If you need more information, you can ask for it.”
“I just… It’s early.”
“Mm. That’s how I plan on being productive today. The grind starts when I rise. Make your choice.”
Grimacing, Carine pushed the covers aside and immediately folded her arms over her chest.
“No. I don’t think so.”
Carine laid them at her sides.
“Right there. Uncross your ankles for me, too. Good girl. Now, if you want to feel less like a corpse, you can fluff up that pillow. Grab the one next to it, too. That’ll be easier on your neck.” She preemptively leaned and put her finger against Carine’s mouth the second her lips parted. “There is nothing you need to say right now. I am a clear communicator. Nod if you agree.”
Carine’s nod was slow, but it was a nod all the same. Heidi wasn’t such a dictator that she cared about the compliance style as long as the acquiescence was evident.
“Go on, then.” Heidi pulled back her hand.
Carine fixed the pillows beneath her to elevate her head and neck and promptly settled her arms at her sides.
“Much better. You see, you have to give people a chance to be thoughtful. You have to give them a chance to look and plan.”
Heidi had seen Carine’s bare-naked form up close and personal numerous times, but Carine didn’t know. If Heidi had her way, Carine wouldneverknow. The relationship they had at Clay’s was a transactional venture in which Carine could experiment without self-consciousness and in which Heidi could satisfy the greedier parts of her primal consciousness. She could consume without being watched or needled. People sometimes got too comfortable around her because she spent a huge swath of her life being congenial. They assumed she’d be easygoing enough to cooperate with them.
Sometimes, she didn’t want to cooperate. Sometimes, she wanted to be an asshole.
She studied her nails. There was a chip on the polish on her left middle finger. She could probably get squeezed in for a manicure the same day if she felt like being sweet, but she’d have to find out first which techs were on the schedule. “Do you cook, Carine? You can answer.”
“I’m…all right with the basics?” There was enough inquiry in the tone of Carine’s statement that it eliminated the need for her to askWhy?“I don’t cook as well as Valerie, that’s for sure.”
“I suppose we have that in common. I’ve got a freezer full of casseroles she’s dropped off. That’s what she does with her maternity leave. Nurses that baby, washes diapers, and shuffles from fridge to stove to freezer to sink putting meals together. Some folks might think the relationship we have is strange.”
Carine’s eyebrows lifted slightly. Naturally, she had an opinion. Of all the things Carine was, a fence-rider wasn’t one of them.
“Do you think my relationship with Valerie is strange? You can answer.”
“Knowing Valerie the way I do, no. She’s an architect, and knows not to get bogged down by details that don’t matter.”
Heidi could agree with that. Valerie was exceedingly practical. She wouldn’t care who’d taught her husband to eat pussy as long as he used his talents exclusively on her for the rest of his life.
“I like her as a person,” Heidi said. “Adore her, even. Takes a special sort of person to roll into town and scare your child onto the straight and narrow path in a matter of months. I guess the outsider’s perspective has a certain power. You can talk.”
“She was the first person I could call a friend in years,” Carine confessed. “I always know she means what she says, and I guess I didn’t have that before.”
Heidi intended to forge on rather than let her thoughts linger on how very sad that was. She wasn’t the sort of dominatrix who enjoyed playing therapist. “People tend to look for things they think they should have instead of what they actually need. That’s where they get all tangled up. But that’s all right. We learn better with age.” Primed to begin in earnest, she set her foot onto the floor and leaned her forearms onto her knees. “Now. I don’t intend to leave this house today. That’s why I asked you if you cooked. Need to do something with all those groceries I keep putting into the refrigerator with the highest hopes. But that’s all right. We’ll figure it out, won’t we? You can talk.”
Carine’s jaw dangled for a couple of seconds before she wised up and said, “I can read recipes and follow instructions.”
“Well, we’ll see about the following instructions part, won’t we, now? I’ll have to teach you how I like things to be. I’m not as easygoing as some people still insist on thinking. I’m a Southern woman who knows how to shut her mouth when she has to. That’s all. Cup your breasts for me.”
Carine’s brow furrowed again, likely due to the rapid change of subject, but she caught on quickly and pushed her palms against the undersides of her breasts.
Heidi hummed contentedly. Even if she had seen it all before, every time was a delight.
Carine often wore her bras too tight to create a figure that wasn’t meant to be seen in nature. She was a woman whose assets were meant to dangle and spill, not be bound up and be remolded into fabricated shapes.
