Page 14 of Heat Stroked


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“This is for you.” He strides toward me, extending the flat, black box that’s wrapped with a pretty pink bow. It’s strangely close to the color of nail polish I chose. It has to be from Roarke and Bennett, or one of them, but what would they send me?

“Wet nails,” I say and grab the box with my fingers extended outward. “Do I need to sign or anything?”

“Nope.” He’s already on his way back to his car.

I carry the package inside, set it on my counter, and grip one end of the bow with two very carefully placed fingers and the other end with my teeth, hoping to minimize the repairs I have to do to my manicure.

It’s no use. I can’t get it open, so I sit next to it, waving my hands back and forth, while I try to simultaneously dry my nails and manifest x-ray vision.

My phone dings. At least that can distract me for a second.

Wrong. It’s Roarke:We need you to stop by the hospital so we can make sure they fit.

Clothes? But they must not have paid too much attention since they forgot my car is totaled. I’ll hold my response until I get the box open.

Another ding. Roarke:What time can you be ready? We’ll send a car.

Never mind, they paid attention. I breathe in slowly. What would it be like to have the resources to send gifts to people and send cars for them? I notice a small smudge on one of my nails. If I lived in their world, I wouldn’t sit on my front porch and do my nails, I’d be at the salon.

Testing the spot I already messed up, I determine my nails are finally dry. If they weren’t, I would have torn into the box anyway. I’m buzzing with excitement.

There are a bunch of little bundles wrapped in tissue paper. Pulling one out, I unwrap a pair of neatly folded panties. Which store sells these? I’ve never heard of the brand, but it was a local delivery guy.

I’m brought to tears as I unwrap one pair after another. What a world to have more pairs of panties than days of the week, and the only holes in them are the two leg holes and the top. Some are lacey, some are silky, and they’re every color imaginable.

People talk about the importance of self-care. When you’re broke like me, self-care gets repetitive. That’s why I’m considering my answer to Roarke’s offer. It’s a little selfish, but I just don’t get opportunities like this.

I text back a time.

I’m waiting outside for the rideshare a few minutes before our agreed-upon time when I get another text from Roarke:Only get in the car if you’re ready to be ours.

Ready to get fucked in my new pretty panties? Hell yeah. I’m one hundred percent fine with being their toy. I close my eyes and shake off the little omission that could make Roarke furious.

Why ruin some naughty fun, when it can’t possibly turn into anything real? I’m pretty sure my thoughts are twisting to give myself permission.

With my crappy life, I don’t have much to lose. My best friend walked away years ago. My parents don’t exist. My work schedule leaves me exhausted. I just want to live in the fantasy a little longer.

The car pulls up, and the driver rolls down the window. “Are you Caroline?”

Am I ready to be theirs?

A Toyota Camry isn’t exactly a white horse in a fairy tale, but it will get me to Roarke and Bennett. Leaving my reservations behind, I step into the car and get whisked away.

Six

Roarke

Myheartnearlyexplodeswhen Caroline rounds the corner. She’s ours.

My hand is on her arm, which is tame compared to where I want to put it, as I lead her into my office.

It’s only a couple of seconds that our contact is visible but Nurse Aria rounds the corner. Her eyes go wide and she stutter steps. Caroline and Aria are close to the same age…young enough to be my daughters. Aria’s surprise serves as a reminder that not everyone will be okay with this type of relationship.

That doesn’t even touch the surface of adding Bennett into the mix, yet, he deepens our connection. I have something to offer both of them, and something to gain from us as a threesome. There’s a security that Caroline will be cared for even when I have demands at the hospital, and vice versa with Bennett.

I’m swinging my door shut to indicate I don’t want to be disturbed when Aria calls out, “Doctor Shepherd.”

Why didn’t she just turn around? Then it occurs to me that maybe she didn’t think anything of it. Am I being paranoid? A lot is riding on Caroline showing up, but Aria sees me talk to people in my office all the time.

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