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She sounds so brittle with concern that I race to assure her. “No! Not at all.”
Holy shit!
My dream girl just told me she loves me, and I should be screaming how much I love her back, but all I can do is sink into myself as I’m tied up in knots. This has gone too far. I need to tell her like yesterday.
But goddamn, the way she’s looking at me like I hung the moon. How can I possibly break her heart after she’s offered it to me on a silver platter?
I grasp her worried face fiercely. “I love you, too, baby.”
She shakes her head, trying to pull away but I hold on tighter. “You didn’t have to say it back just because I said it.”
“No, Estrella! Do you have any idea what you do to me? My world didn’t begin until I met you.” Inch by sluggish inch, she relaxes. I lean in and kiss her with every ounce of passion I feel for her until we’re drowning in each other. “My God, Essie.” I manage to eke out when I reluctantly pull away. “How could you possibly doubt how much I want, respect, and love you?”
I watch as a single tear slides down her precious face. “I thought it was too soon. I didn’t want to scare you away.”
I wipe away her tears. “Silly dominatrix. Everyone in this firehouse and their brother knows how obsessed I am with you. They think I’m a stalker, thanks to the necessity of keeping this on the down low.”
“Not anymore,” she insists. “I’m gonna tell everyone as soon as I see them. Sakura Takahasi is mine, and I’m most certainly hers.”
Her bold statement does the opposite of her intentions. I’m sure she meant to assure me, but all it did was make the bowling ball in my gut feel heavier as dread builds and builds until it encompasses every molecule of my being. While she’ll be busy telling the world how much she loves me, I’ll be preparing my wedding to someone else. It’s too late to take it back now. There’s no way I could ask her to keep it quiet without an important reason why. I should just tell her the truth and pray to every god in existence that she’ll somehow forgive me.
But the way she’s looking at me with hearts in her eyes, I can’t find the strength to do it. I can’t break her like that. Even though it’s only a matter of time. I just wish I had more.
???
I spend so little time at my parents house. I only go there once or twice a week to pick up clothes. At this point, almost my entire wardrobe has been moved into Essie’s closet.
I remember a few weeks ago when she presented her huge walk-in closet that had been half cleared out to make room for my stuff.
“Are your eyes closed?”
I giggle. “Well, duh, your hands are covering them.”
A hard smack to my ass makes me yelp. “Watch it, smart ass or I’ll make it a black and blue ass.”
“Yeah, right,” I sass. “We both know that’s not your style.”
She harrumphs. “I don’t know, I suddenly have a taste to see how red I can turn your nether cheeks before my hand goes numb.”
I think for both of us it’s a threat combined with a desirable promise. My sudden need for punishment has upped my brat game, and I’m fairly certain we’re both enjoying it.
“Promises, promises,” I quip.
Another, harder smack sends lush warmth straight to my cunt. “After my surprise, I’m gonna make you eat your words.”
I snort. “Right after you eat my pussy.”
“Oooh, little girl, you’re in rare form tonight, but I refuse to let you ruin my surprise.” She nudges me, and I walk forward until her hands on my shoulders bring me to a stop. “Surprise!” She whips her hands away, and I take in her ridiculously big closet that’s now half empty.
I glance at her confused. “What happened? Did you sell a bunch of stuff?”
She glowers. “No, silly. I moved stuff around to make room for you.”
My throat suddenly feels like the Gobi desert as all the ramifications of what this means slaps me in the face. It’s a declaration of sorts, and about two tiny steps away from asking me to live here. I practically do anyways, but she’s never formally asked me to move in… until now.
No matter how much I want to say yes, there’s no possible way. In less than a month, I’m getting married and moving in with my future husband.
I gulp, and she sees it. I fucking hate the disquiet that travels over her features. I’m pretty sure Estrella Ortiz has been nothing but self assured her entire life, and here I am making her anxious about me. She shouldn’t have to worry about me. I’m the one who should be unsure. I’m the one who’s lucky to even have a sliver of her attention.
