“Your bed or mine?”
She laughs. “It’s that easy for you, huh?”
I nod. “So easy.”
“Well, I guess since we’re here, it be your bed then.”
Her scream fills the room as I lift her off her feet, carrying her caveman style towards my bedroom before she can rethink it.
The second she hits the bed, I’m moving over the top of her, kissing those seductive lips like I own every inch of them.
“Just say the word, Mindy, and I’ll fulfill any wish you want.”
Her hooded gaze blinks up at me before her hand cups my cheek. “My only wish is that you stay by my side forever, Rich. I don’t know what I’d do if I were ever to lose you.”
She then drags off her top, her milky white breasts popping out to greet me the second she unsnaps her bra.
“Fuck, you’re so goddamn beautiful.”
She hikes up her skirt, tearing off her undies until that bare pussy is ready for my cock.
“Let’s not waste anymore time, Rich. I’m horny, ovulating, and ready to fuck.”
Damn, her dirty talk is fucking beautiful.
My hands fly to my cut, shucking it off and onto a chair before I quickly discard my shirt, pants, and boxers. I’m already hard as fuck, so the second I crawl over her, my cock’s already perched at her entrance, ready to dive in.
“Are you sure you don’t want to use a condom?”
She shakes her head. “No, I want to feel us to skin to skin. No protection. No barriers. Just us fucking and making babies.”
My cock teases her entrance, the tip stroking those soft folds as I tease and caress her. “Making babies, huh?”
Her eyes flutter ever so slightly as she sighs in content. “Yup, so let’s get going, our future babies aren’t going to make themselves.”
ChapterTwenty-Three
Mindy
(Three Weeks Later)
The grocery store smells like cinnamon and pine cleaner, and fresh bleach. I can barely get through the aisles without some nitwit bumping into me, glaring at me like it’s my fault.
Christmas is everywhere no matter where I go, and for some reason, it just doesn’t feel that happy and joyful to me. Maybe it’s because I’m not actually safe. I’m marked, my body sold to the highest bidder the second the ball drops.
A red bow sways as I open one of the freezers, grabbing the whipped cream inside. All these decorations should feel comforting. Normal. But even in a place where nothing bad is allowed to exist, I still feel the omen like it’s breathing down my neck, waiting for me to fall.
I grip the handle of the cart harder than necessary, mindlessly grabbing items for the upcoming celebration, not exactly knowing what to make. So, I buy everything. Eggs, flour, butter, chocolate chips… anything and everything I’d need to make the perfect Christmas cookies. It's the least I can do for thepeople who have taken me under their wing and welcomed me to their home.
I’m reaching for a bag of sugar when I feel it—the strange shift in the air, like someone’s watching me…following me. Even during the day, there’s no way to feel safe.
I straighten, heart ticking faster as I turn my head in the direction of a familiar voice coming down the aisle.
“Careful with that brand,” Moseley says mockingly. “It can be too grainy. It ruins the texture.”
My hand shakes, retreating from the bag of sugar as he comes to a stop next to me, and two of his men appear at the ends of the aisles on both sides. They pretend to be looking at food, but they’re really just blocking my escape.
My stomach drops.
