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“Stupid asshole,” she mutters, running her fingers through her faded red strands. “I’m more qualified to run that place than you are.” She walks over to her dresser and begins to undress.
I watch her, unable to tear my eyes off her as she strips down to just her panties and bra. I grow hard, uncomfortably so. She prepares for bed, humming to herself as she brushes her teeth in the bathroom. Once she returns, she slips under the covers and buries her head in the pillow. I contemplate revealing myself, but I decide to hold off for now and wait until she’s asleep to leave. I expect her to doze off, but it never happens.
Instead, she swings her legs off the bed and opens the drawer of the nightstand, retrieving a sizeable toy. She kicks off her panties and lays back down, spreading her thighs as she turns it on. I can’t look away from her glistening pussy as she presses the head against her clit. She whimpers, tweaking her nipples through her bra—a bra I wish I could rip off her myself. She clicks a button, raising the intensity, her back arching as she slides the thick length between her folds.
I stroke myself, biting my lip as I watch her insert the toy into her dripping cunt. Her breathing becomes ragged, her pussy gripping the shaft for dear life as she moves it in and out. God, I wish that were me right now. She quickens her pace, her sounds becoming higher pitched and desperate.
“Fuck, feels so good,” she whines, the sound divine.
My breath catches when she moans my name.
“Blake, oh God … Fuck me …”
I want to come so badly, but I want—need—her to saymyname. Not that dork, Blake.Mine.
She cries out, her orgasm coming on strong, her knees shaking. She tosses the toy back into the drawer and snuggles back under the blanket. I know I’ll be stuck here with this raging boner unless she passes out soon, so I hope for her speedy surrender to the darkness.
Once I hear her softly snoring, I silently leave the closet and jump out the window. I’m riled up, unable to concentrate on anything but the sight of Gwen pleasuring herself. Fuck, I need a distraction. After returning to my apartment, I grab my keys and go for a drive.
I decide to investigate Gwen’s new co-workers.
Chapter
Six
HER
Red dye was the first thing I bought with my very first paycheck at fifteen years old. I was so proud of that paycheck, and I knew exactly what I was going to spend it on. I have always loved the color red. It’s so vibrant and exciting. I used to dream of having hair the color of cherries. Black ones.
I had worked all summer at the local ice cream shop in Lakestone to afford that dye. It was a small, family-owned business, and I loved working there. Despite my lineage, they didn’t treat me with pity or fear like so many others did. The free ice cream was a plus, too. I experimented extensively with different flavor combinations that ended up on the menu. Vaguely, I wonder if the place is still even open.
Now, the same box of red peeks out from the bag nestled in the passenger seat of my car.
I turn off the engine and sit in the grocery store parking lot. It’s across town from my apartment, but it’s one of the few semi-affordable options in Fallbank. I adjust my baseball cap, pulling my limp ponytail through the back, and make a mental note to hurry. I’m desperate for a shower.
Normally, I prefer putting together some semblance of a meal plan. To at least not head into the store blind. But not today. I figure I could always pick up some staples like eggs, bread, and milk. And then just wing it from there. I get out of my car and head for the store. I shiver and wrap my arms around myself, unsure if it’s the unusually crisp air. Or something else.
I refuse to entertain that line of thought right now.
My jangling nerves subside as I enter the building. The smells of fresh produce and baked goods waft into my nose, making my stomach rumble. After grabbing a cart, I wander around the aisles, familiarizing myself with the layout. I pick up ingredients that catch my eye and remain open to anything remotely nutritious that will last me until my next check.
I glance down an aisle, seeing that there are some chicken breasts on sale. Deciding to pick up a couple of packs of those to portion out and freeze, I push the cart—but another cuts me off. The wheels squeal as I force mine to a stop. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.” I pause, realizing who the person I barely avoided a collision with is. “Blake?”
He looks up from his notepad and blinks, recognition lighting up behind his eyes. “Hey, Mia.” He straightens up, his mouth setting into an easy but friendly smirk. “What brings you out shopping at such an hour?”
I shrug, knowing I’m cutting it close to closing time. “Trying not to starve.”
He steals a glimpse of the contents of my cart. “Looks like you’re well on your way to a feast.”
“I made a spur-of-the-moment decision to cook chili this week.” I want to duck out of here, so he doesn’t see my greasy hair. But I don’t want attention drawn to it, so I force my tone to remain neutral. Unbothered—but it’s difficult when it feels like he has an uncanny ability to see right through me. “It’s my favorite comfort food.”
“Chili, huh? That sounds delicious.” He pauses for a moment, then asks, “Do you want any help carrying your groceries to your car?”
I hesitate for a moment; I’m still not used to accepting help from strangers. But he seems like such a nice guy. And cute.Stop rushing into things, I chastise myself. “No, I’m fine,” I blurt out. We stand there for a moment, awkwardly. I don’t know what to say, and he doesn’t seem to either. “Can I take a raincheck on that offer?”
“I guess so,” he replies, nodding over his shoulder. “But at this rate, that ‘rainy day’ will be tonight.”
I chuckle at his cheesy attempt at a joke. “Then I should probably get going. It was nice meeting you in these parts.”
