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I’m answered only by the slamming of the door.
Twenty minutes later, and after I’ve washed the cum off me with a wet washcloth like a cheap trick, Stella arrives. She waltzes in looking both casual and elegant in joggers and a Nike crop. Gold waist beads pop and sparkle against the rich brown of her stomach. Alfie trails behind her, carrying half a dozen shopping bags.
“Hey, babe.” She smiles warmly, then frowns slightly as she assesses me from head to toe. “When was the last time you showered?”
“Uh…” I think back and realize I haven’t showered since the morning of my shift the day of the shooting. “A few days.”
“Go do that, then let’s talk.” She laughs and makes her way to the fridge. “In the meantime, I’m going to raid the fridge. The boy always keeps the fanciest cheeses, even though he’s painfully lactose intolerant. I’m starting to think he only buys it for me.” She moves about his kitchen like she’s been here a thousand times. It doesn’t take her five tries to open the right drawer or cabinet like me.
There’s an unusual pinching in my chest that I assume at first is jealousy. She obviously knows Cash better than me and spends enough time here that he keeps her favorite foods stocked.
But as I watch her make herself a cheese plate and open a bottle of wine, I realize it’s not jealousy. It’s relief, safety, comfort. Cash is violent, intense, and unpredictable, yet Stella feels comfortable and relaxed in his apartment, treating it as her own.
In the shower, I continue thinking about Cash and his confusing words.
When he said he loved me, my first thought wasyou don’t know what love is. He’s too detached from the real world, too tied up in being a king, to understand something as simple and human as love. But then a moment like this, or when he’s stealing fries from his brother’s plate while laughing, makes me think that maybe I’m wrong.
There’s a flutter in the pit of my stomach when I imagine Cash beingthisversion with me. The version that made breakfast for an army because he didn’t know what I liked. Not just the version that slams me against walls, thrusts his fingers into my pussy, makes me gag on his dick, and flies into a rage when I say something he doesn’t like.
Though I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t attracted to that version of Cash Fox too.
I stand in front of the mirror as I towel and twist my wet hair up. I catch a glimpse of a small, purplish mark near the back of my neck. My core instantly pools with heat, and my stomach drops in a giddy way remembering how I got it.
My hand ghosts across my chest.“I’m gonna paint your tits, baby. I’m gonna mark you up so you’ll never doubt again who you belong to.”
Next, it slides down the pillowy curve of my stomach, still hot and dewy from the shower, as I recall his lust-filled growl:
“Do you know what a fucking vision you would be with your hair wrapped around my fist while I force you to take every. Fucking. Inch?”
My mouth waters as I remember those inches sinking past my lips and over my tongue. I rest one hand on the bathroom counter while the other continues to slide lower.
Spread ’em wide for me…
My good fucking girl…
Choke on it…
Knock, knock!
I jump back and rip the towel from my hair, wrapping it around my body. My heart is pumping like I just got caught watching porn. “Do you want to do hair or clothes first?” Stella calls through the bathroom door.
“Either,” I yell back, hoping she can’t hear the dirty thoughts running through my voice in my head. I throw back on the sweatpants and shirt I was wearing before and open the door.
Stella is sitting on my bed, surrounded by dresses laid out and stacks of folded clothes. She hops off when she sees me. “Alrighty, let’s do this.”
“Stella, what exactly are we doing?”
She rolls her eyes in mock annoyance. “Of course, he wouldn’t tell you. He said he was taking you out, and you don’t have anything appropriate here. He also asked me to pick up some more things that aren’t just house clothes.” She nods to the stack of clothes, and I spot a bikini in the mix.
“I have plenty of clothes at my place.” I shake my head, feeling weird that Stella has been sent on personal shopping missions for me. She’s a restaurant manager, not Cash’s errand girl.
“Don’t get all awkward now. Having free rein with Cash’s credit card wasn’t exactly a chore, and you are not the only person I went shopping for.” She winks and looks down at her shoes, which I now realize are new, pristine, white sneakers.
“Listen, I don’t know much about what’s really going on between you two, but I do know that Cash is absolutely wild about you. I have never, notoncein the decade I’ve known him, seen him place anything—oranyone—above his family.” My chest expands as I take in her words.
“That boy is certifiable, Lord knows it. But I’ve never seen him more clearheaded about anything than when he is talking about you.”
My jaw tightens as emotion chokes me. “I guess this is where you tell me to never break his heart, or else.” I force out a chuckle, desperate to change the tone of this unexpected conversation.
