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“Outside,” she echoes softly. “Outside where?”
“On the porch.”
“What the fuck?”
“It’s probably a prank.”
She looks up at me, mouth gaping and eyes blazing. “A prank? That’s not a prank, Noah. Those are our things!”
“I know.”
“Youknow? Well, by all means, continue to look like you couldn’t care less while I freak out about what kind of weirdo searched through this house and stole our stuff only to what? Gift it back?” She throws a hand in the air and begins to pace the floor, each step making the wood creak. Jerkily, she twists her body to face me, looking fear-stricken for a brief moment. “What if they’re still here?”
“They’re not,” I tell her. Truthfully, I don’t know if they are. Most likely not if they were just able to be outside.
“You don’t know that.”
“Would you like me to check?”
She thinks about it, chewing on that still-fat bottom lip. I want to be the one chewing on that plump skin, making it throb the longer and harder I dig my teeth into it. Her reactions from earlier tell me that maybe she’d like that too.
“No. I don’t want my potentially last memory of this house to be of a creep hiding in the bathroom. I want it to be of you. Of us just being here together,” Tinsley admits. It sounds almost shy, so unlike her. “We can figure all of this out later.”
She doesn’t know this won’t be the last time we’re here together. It might be a shit hole, but it’s mine now. Hers, if she’ll take it.
With a slight cock of my head, I narrow my eyes on her, desperate to figure out what thoughts she’s keeping from me. The darkness betrays me, casting too many shadows over her that hide the little things I want to know. Like is her face warm and pink? Is her chest still moving too quickly?
The rapid fluttering of her eyelashes as she stares back at me, one palm flat against her belly, has me wondering if I already know the answer to both of those questions.
Would she look away if I told her that I could still taste her cunt on my tongue? Or would that force her closer to me, desperate to offer me another taste?
“Tell me what you’re thinking about.” It’s a harsh demand. I’m unable to give anything warmer. What’s left of my control is pitiful.
“You’re going to pretend you don’t already know?”
I chuckle roughly, the beginning of a smirk tugging at my lips. “Have you ever wondered what it would feel like to wear a pair of tight jeans with a flaming red, sore ass?”
A trembled exhale. “Are you threatening to spank me, Noah?”
“It’s not a threat.”
I’d have to be blind to miss the hint of excitement that caresses the soft lines of her face. She wets her lips and starts to retreat further into the room, keeping her eyes fixed on mine.
“A promise, then?” Her voice is so soft.
My palm tingles. “Yeah, Golden Girl. A promise.”
The window behind her has a view of the fenced-in backyard. It’s barren, grass overgrown, boring. But the clouds part in the sky behind it, revealing bright stars that begin to flood the room with light, illuminating her figure.
She’s an angel; even the stars believe it to be true.
It’s too bad the Devil is about to paint her red.
“Where are you going?” I ask, eying her movements. She’s almost at the wall with nowhere else to run.
“Nowhere.”
“No? You’re not scared?”
