Page 45 of The Devil’s Feather

“You will see.” He had that smug tone again. “I must entice you to stay with me, yes? Since my scintillating personality is not convincing enough.”

“Scintillating! Such a good word. I’m writing it down so I remember to use it.” I grabbed my ‘Chewy Vocab’ notebook and searched for a pen in the whirlwind disaster of my room.

A breathy laugh, then, “Cruel, Elaine. You are meant to be hanging on my every word, not filtering them for later use in your books.”

“Too bad my housemates are home, or I’d put that ego to work. You could sing into the phone so I can put it between my legs.” Was that where all my creativity had gone? Straight out of my writing into my libido? I’d never been this sexually assertive with a man.

“Degenerate.” But his tone was intrigued.

I folded my boring t-shirts and jeans. “Says the man with a whole ass secret dungeon! I don’t even know what you use some of the shit in there for.”

Rafael’s voice curled around me in a sensual caress. “I will happily demonstrate.”

“The fuck you mean, a secret dungeon?” came a voice from the hall.

I slammed my bag on the floor and threw the door open. “Dee, what the fuck? You’re eavesdropping now?”

Already in her bathrobe and bonnet, Deandra planted one fist on her hip and jabbed a finger at the phone. “With that deep ass voice, do you really think I had to?”

Rafael laughed. “Feeling left out?”

Her nostrils flared. “Ok, you’re definitely an axe murderer.”

I stepped between Deandra and the phone like that would somehow protect Rafael. “Uh, Dee, aren’t you the one who gets onto me for kinkshaming?”

The composer chuckled. “Relax, Deandra. I am the only one chained up and beaten in my secret dungeon. It will stay that way unless Elaine asks to switch. Give me your phone number for an emergency contact if it worries you.”

Deandra uncoiled, swayed by practicality. I put Rafael’s number in her phone. She changed his name to Axe Murderer and sent him a middle finger emoji. Her phone immediately lit up with incoming messages.

“Holy fuck,” she whispered, turning the phone around. “You did this, Laney?” In an aside, she whispered, “Also, holy fucking body. No wonder you’re down so bad.”

Rafael had sent selfies. Waist-up angles of his bare, bruised, magnificent torso, with his face and arms cropped out.

Flushed, I stifled the urge to lick the screen. “I sure did.”

He laughed like the demon he was. “Now, take your shirt off and show her your perfect, unmarked breasts, Elaine.”

What even were words? My brain refused to function. “You…I …goddammit!”

“Bro.” Deandra was similarly at a loss.

“No need to be embarrassed.” He was loving this. “I am sure Deandra has seen them before.”

“Nope. You are on timeout for bad behavior. Goodnight, Rafael.” I hung up to the sound of his rumbling laugh.

Dee turned slowly to me, eyebrows flirting with her hairline. “Your Music Man is one unique motherfucker.”

“He is that.” I sat heavily on the bed. “And he hasn’t done a single thing to me I haven’t asked for or enthusiastically consented to, but damn, does he love to mess with me. What am I gonna do with this man? I want to move in right now.”

She clapped me hard on the back. “You’re going to ride out this oxytocin flood until you can make some logical fucking decisions, that’s what.”

“Maybe he’ll just kidnap me, and I won’t have to decide.” I puffed out a breath, fluttering my grown-out bangs.

“‘Opeless’!” Dee left me to my disorganized packing.

My phone buzzed.

Rafael: I left a surprise in your car⁠1. Go get it.