“Vigilante justice?” I chuckle. “No. I've never thought about that.”
Her fingers slide down my neck to my shoulders, making me shiver as they trace along my sides, landing on my hips.
When she lifts her own hips, my cock jumps at the sudden contact of her heat, still wet with our combined release. There's a hunger in her eyes that has nothing to do with food, a craving for something more substantial. Her eyes don't leave mine as she leans toward me enough so I can hear the words she whispers.
They're choked by seduction, but they're there all the same.
“Maybe you should start.”
28
Amber
I’ve been searching for a hobby, something other than wracking my brain about what could possibly come to pass between us. Worrying about the future has never stopped it, so I know better than to spend too much time trying to figure out what our dynamic is.
Shopping has been fun and therapeutic, but I think I met my quota of useless things when I bought a glass teapot with gorgeous flower enamels. Cal said he hadn’t realized I liked tea, and I told him I hate it. But the teapot was pretty. I’ve filled every corner of his house with things that make me happy… flowers and figurines, cozy blankets, and ambient lighting.
Not having to work to live and live to work has been transformative. I’ve also expanded my wardrobe significantly… though it’s mostly a variety of costumes that fill my side of the closet.
I considered scrapbooking, but I have no mementos to preserve.
He banned me from cooking when I burnt my wrist on the oven, and he played nurse to me, cleaning and wrapping the shiny red welt.
I found coloring to offer my brain too much time to think freely, which is the exact opposite of why I need a hobby.
I started yoga and bought all the workout clothes to prove it, but sixty minutes a day is such a small space of time when Cal is busy trying to work.
No matter what hobby I try, nothing ever trumps sex. It’s like there’s an override switch buried inside of me, and when Cal fucks me just right, everything resets. I can be in the throes of panic, in the abyss of my mind, and he pulls me out every time…
I’ve woken from nightmares more than a few times to find him kissing my lips, soothing me while his cock makes itself at home inside of me. And it works every time, because even though it may be the most dangerous position to be in with a murderer, I also never feel as safe as I do when I’m in his arms and he’s in me.
And sometimes, it’s just in good fun. I’ve played the part of his little doll, and it’s my favorite role to go back to.
But sometimes, I like to pretend other things.
Today, I’m pretending to be a cop. The blue dress is like a second skin, and I left it unzipped between my breasts to expose a decent amount of cleavage. As much as we’ve fucked, I’ve never gotten dressed up on my own to seduce him. It’s fucking terrifying. My heart beats out of my chest as if he’ll judge me for this. I don’t know why he would judge me for this when he hasn’t judged me for changing his washer and dryer tune toHappy Birthday, but it doesn’t calm my nerves.
I wait until I hear the door shut and am sure that Dex has gone before I call for him.
“Cal?”
“Everything okay?” He calls. “Tell me you’re not steam cleaning the flooragain? I have the hardest time getting the bed out the door.”
He opens the door and looks around, surprised when he doesn’t see me.
I attack while his guard is down, springing toward him and pressing my mouth to his. I don't wait for the surprise to fade before I seek his tongue out with my own, commanding it to move for me, to kiss me.
And there's no hesitation when I do. The minute our tongues touch, whatever resistance he was clinging to shatters. His hand fists against my scalp, pulling strands of hair through his fingers so that it's clear I'm not getting away from him. He groans, a needy sound that makes me feel strangely powerful and spurs me to push him further, to see how far he will bend for me.
I spin him round and walk him backward to the bed until he stops, the backs of his knees against the mattress. One hard shove of my hand is enough to pushhim back, where he lies on the mattress and looks up at me, bewildered but also clearly fucking turned on.
“I never thought I’d find an officer sexy, but fuck…” Cal’s voice is full of wonder as I laugh. “Power looks good on you, little doll.”
I straddle his lap, unable to get close enough to him as I hold his chin in my hands, keeping him hostage to my domineering kiss.
Judging from the bulge in his pants, I'm certain he doesn't mind.
I let go of his face but don't stop kissing him.
