Page 23 of Marked With Love

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The second time I woke to his mouth between my legs. He brought me to orgasm twice. I tried to return the favor, but he wouldn’t let me, saying my pussy needed rest. I tried to protest, but he started rubbing my back, and it had been lights out again for me.

Now I’m doing the walk of shame, I suppose, but I don’t feel shame over it. I enjoyed every second of it, but I know that I’ve got to let this man go. I pull on one of his shirts then find my pants and shoes. My bag sits on the floor completely forgotten about. I’m sure my phone is filled with messages.

“I’ll miss you.” I pick up Gremlin and give him a kiss on top of his head. I wish I could add water and get one for myself. I should think about going to the shelter and adopting one of my own. It might be fun to have a cat to drive Grams’ fancy Welsh corgis crazy. I place him back on the counter before heading out the door.

I pause when I see a pretty, dark-haired woman coming out from her place next door. She gives me a glare. I’m sure she has a crush on Eros, so I can’t blame her, but still jealousy unlike I’ve ever felt before bubbles up inside of me. It’s worse than when the other kids' parents would show up to visit at school and mine never would. Grams always did, but my parents’ visits were few and far between, and I think the times they did come were only because Grams put some pressure on my father.

When I make it to my car, I freeze when I see a flash followed by another. I turn, trying to see who the hell is taking pictures of me. Fucking great. I look around but don’t see anyone. They must have taken off, and I didn’t get a good look. The hell? It’s either some creep or I’m going to be on page five of one of the local blogs. I have no clue how they still pull me into the social world when I never go out and play, but they do at times.

I’m not shocked when I walk into the house as the sun is finally coming up and Grams is sitting in the kitchen drinking her morning tea. Both she and Alfred give me knowing looks.

“It’s not a walk of shame,” I blurt out.

“We didn’t say it was,” Grams responds gently before taking a sip of her tea. “I think it was more a walk of fear.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re a runner,” Alfred supplies.

“I am not! What do I run from? I don’t even work out.” I smirk, trying to distract them with my joke. I don’t know why I do it. These two see right through me.

“From people, sweetheart.”

“I don’t run from people. I once punched someone in the face,” I remind them.

“Your best friend lives in forced proximity. Then you have Alfred and me. You like your little bubble you’ve created.” I stand there as Grams drops that reality bomb on my head.

“It’s too early for this.” I walk out of the kitchen. “I’m getting a cat!” I shout over my shoulder as I go, knowing it’s a lie. Gremlin holds my heart. I think his owner might too.



“Maybe the sex was bad,”Matty unhelpfully suggests.

“It’s not that.” She came—multiple times. She cried once because she came so hard. She wanted to have sex again even though her poor pussy had taken a beating before. Maybe she was mad I said no. She fell asleep almost immediately afterward, so I thought she was satisfied. But then she left—without a word.

“Men don’t know. We’re dumb fucks, okay? Women can fake orgasms and make you think you’re the greatest lover in the world, but in reality, they’re reliving the chocolate episode of theGreat British Bake-off. If you’ve ever watched that show with a woman, you’d know. So, what do you think about this?” He holds up a red purse.

“I think if you can’t tell if a woman enjoys you in bed, you shouldn’t be buying her a purse.”

“I’m not one of those boring assholes that buys flowers. Any schmuck can do that. She likes purses and has had a new one every time we’ve gone out. This is a knock-it-out-of-the-park kind of gift. A deal closer.”

I have not bought one thing for Morgan. Maybe Matty has the right idea. I start scanning the racks. What color purse would she like? Does she even like purses? I think back to the times I’ve been with her. She had a black one with an embroidered flower on the front when we ate at Louis’ the first time. When she came over the first time, she had the same purse. The second visit, she had no purse. Do I buy her the same kind of purse with embroidery?

“Earth to Eros. Come in, Eros.” Matty’s hand appears in front of my face. “What about this one?” This one is a different bag but in brown.

“Ugly. What happened to the red one?”

“That was three suggestions ago. Why? Wait, are you buying that? That was my idea.” Matty tries to grab the bag out of my hand, but I push him away.

“And now it’s mine. It has a flower here, see?” I point to the hand-painted decoration. “It matches her other bag.”

“I don’t care. I saw it first.” He lunges for me. I side-step, and he crashes into the table and sends several bags to the floor. An attendant comes racing over.

“Sir! What are you doing? You can’t fight here.”

Matty ignores her and attacks me. I duck his fist and shove the bag into the saleswoman’s hands. “I’ll take this one.”