He trails his fingers over me. The postsex haze is like floating on a cloud, a cloud made of sex.
“Glad to know the threats weren’t real.” I laugh, relieved.
“Creampuff.” He frowns down at me.
“So, tell me how you did it.” I slap at his chest.
“Did what?”
“Switched your clothes so fast last night when you were in my laundry-slash-bedroom.”
“I told you,” he says slowly. “I saved you from a stranger. I didn’t change clothes. You didn’t see me leave with a bag.”
“But the notes—you threatened to kill my dog.” The panic is back. “Please,” I beg him, “just tell me you’re lying.”
“I didn’t write those notes.” There’s something dark and scary on his face.
“What? Yeah, you did. You’re the stalker,” I shriek. “We just had stalker sex in your sex dungeon.”
“No.” He shakes his head, his sweaty hair falling on his forehead. “That wasn’t me.”
“Wait.” I try to drag myself off the bed, but he catches me before my legs can collapse and drags me back onto the bed. “I have another stalker? I have to go. Fidget’s in trouble!”
34
FITZ
Dammit, this was not how I wanted the evening to go.
“Let me out!” Winnie’s naked, banging on the door. “He’s after Fidget! Oh my god, Carolina was right! Wait, were you the stalker who left all the food?”
“Yeah, I’m the stalker doing your laundry, not the one threatening your dog, Winnie.”
“Let me out!” she screams.
“Winnie—”
She grabs one of the whips off the shelf.
“Ow!” I yelp as she slaps me in the face with it. I wrestle it from her. “I’m not letting you out.Fuck.”
She throws a big green dildo at me.
“For someone who proclaims she hates sports, you sure can throw.”
“I need to save my dog!”
“Let me handle it, Winnie,” I thunder.
It only stops her for a moment, then she’s back to screaming at me.
“Just because we had sex doesn’t mean I need you to fight my battles for me.”
“Can I at least give you some clothes?”
“Fine.” She crosses her arms, nose in the air.
“For god’s sake,” I swear, opening another secret door.
