AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I knock on the door and after a moment it swings open. I'm greeted with her back as she's already turned and gone back the way she came. And what a back it is. Dressed in little cream high-waisted shorts that hug her perfect ass almost obscenely and a tiny blue gingham top that's more of a bra than a top, showing off the simple butterflies on her shoulder and the line work tiger in the gap between her top and shorts. Fuck, I want to run my tongue over her. All of her. “Come in.” She calls and I step over the threshold following her into the doorway she just disappeared into.
I take stock of her room, It’s small. Big mirror propped against the wall, polaroids covering the edges and a towel laid down with different makeup laying haphazardly across it. Small bed pushed up in the corner by the window with clothes carelessly strewn across the dusty pink comforter. This feels like a piece of her, a piece of Casimira, not Silver, not that elaborate alter ego she uses. “How long has the door been like that?”
She purses her lips in thought whilst she slides small gold hoops into her ears. “Six months maybe?” Jesus Christ. If this was Francesca I'd ring her neck.
Not Your Responsibility.
I try to keep my thoughts on the door but it’s hard when she looks this fucking incredible. Different from the last two times we’ve met; minimal makeup rather than the full face she had at Euphoria and Diamonds. Not that she needs it. She's stunning anyway.
She grabs a bag from the multiple on display on the shelves. Her walls are lined with shelves of sneakers, heels and bags and then opposite her bed is one shelf with just one handbag on it. It's almost angled as if she falls asleep staring at it. Like a shrine.
“Is that a Birkin?” I ask.
She pauses what she's doing and faces the shrine, letting out a sigh. “Yes. Isn't she beautiful?” She looks at me expectantly but doesn't wait for my reply. “My pride and joy, 25cm gold togo leather with palladium hardware.”
I toss her a blank look. She sighs again and pulls a pair of sandals from her shelves. Sitting on her bed to slip them on her very pretty feet. Little toe ring with freshly manicured white nail polish. Jesus Christ, this girl is just ten out of ten everywhere. “She was a gift.” She shrugs.
I glance back at the pristine handbag. Those things don't go cheap, I know that. “From who?” Why I'm asking? I don't know. I don't care.
She finishes strapping her sandals on and jumps up. “One of my regulars.” She waves a hand. “She doesn't leave this room though.”
Cheap fuck got her the most basic bag possible. “Isn't that pointless?”
She pouts a bit whilst she admires the bag. “I just like to look at her.”
“It's not that nice.” I point out. Pretty basic. There are much nicer ones available. I know because I bought one for Fran for her last birthday.
She looks as if I just insulted her mother. “It's not about the bag but what it represents.”
I snort a laugh. “What? You can get rich men to buy you whatever you want?”
She shrugs nonchalantly as she examines the contents of her purse. “Yep.”
“Sure of yourself aren't you?” I flick my eyes over her and the hint of a smile plays on her mouth. “Always.” She replies not missing a beat and turning to head out of her room.
She pulls her front door shut behind her, doesn’t lock it. A big part of me wants to stage a break in so she has a bit of caution about her. Is she not aware of the crime rate in her area? Or is she just completely ignorant?
Oh, fuck it.
I pull out my phone and shoot my property manager an email telling him to have the door fixed by the end of the day.
She walks down the stairs ahead of me. “Where are we going? You didn’t give me much information and I like to plan my outfit accordingly.”
“It's a surprise.”
She glances at me over her shoulder. “You couldn’t even give me a hint?”
I pocket my phone and motion to my outfit. “Does it look like I’m going to take you hiking or some shit?”
She glances over my sneakers, black shorts and T-shirt. Her eyes linger on my arms for much longer than needed. I wiggle my eyebrows suggestively at her and she scoffs, turning to face forward as we get to the bottom floor.
We get down to my car and I open the door for her. She gives me a suspicious look as she climbs in. “You’re quite the gentleman.” Her tone lacks conviction but at least she’s under no false pretences. I’m the farthest from a gentleman as you could get.
“I think we both know that's not true.”
Her lips twitch as she tries to suppress a smile.
I pull off from the curb, resting an elbow on the centre console. “How'd you get a name like Casimira? It's, different.”
