Page 7 of Turkey Trouble

He selected a crass rubber dildo and hundred dollars’ worth of lingerie forusto enjoy, though the materials used would have cost the manufacturer all of about thirty cents—considering how little there is of it.

But I understood the mission. I showered. Shampooed and blow dried my hair. Shaved my legs. Brushed my teeth and swiped on a little mascara, since I want the man to feel like his gift was well received.

And since I’ve been looking forward to tonight, I selected a pair of heels and slid those on, too. So now I stand in front of a mirror in… not very much.

“Jesus.” I press a hand to my stomach and attempt to quell the nerves slinging through my blood. The panties are… well, they won’t hold up in a high-stress situation. They show off entirely too much, and in the back, they show offeverything.The bra is not a bra at all. Rather, floss, holding my tits up and forcing the swells free in places a regular, proper bra would not.

Garter. Pantyhose. And a shawl, because I guess the man wants his gift wrapped in silk.

I grab the too-thin, see-through material at my shoulder and bring it to my nose to sniff. Is it edible? Is that why it’s so structurally unsound? Or am I overthinking how utterly vulnerable I am in this getup?

But I wear it anyway, because there’s nothing on this planet I won’t do for Archer Malone.

He gives me so much, so selflessly, so wonderfully. And I give him… a hard time, mostly.

I turn from the mirror and pick up my phone to check my messages. But of course, immediately, I’m met with a rock. His gift to me. And then his warning.

I’m coming for you, Mayet. Legs open. Eyes closed. I’m gonna make it hurt and then you’re gonna thank me for it.

I draw a shuddering breath anddon’tdrop my hands between my legs to relieve the ache that’s been building all day long. The anticipation.

Iwantto touch. Maybe get started. But I want to save all of me for the man who gives me all of him. So I swallow the saliva pooling in my mouth and type a shaky,

I’m ready.

Then I turn on quick feet and collect the discarded packaging. The tissue paper. The golden box that glitters despite the dull storm clouds outside. I plop the lid on top and slide the whole box beneath our bed. Finally, I crawl onto our mattress and find my comfortable spot.

On his side of the bed.Because until he’s on it with me, this is where I choose to lie. I check the time on my phone and note that it’s still early. He said he’d leave work at five-thirty, and technically, it’s only clicking over to five-thirty-one now, so I cross my legs and brush hair off my neck. And then I wait…

And wait.

And wait.

Five minutes pass, and then ten. What was a throbbing need in my core transfers to an anxious curiosity in my stomach. I check my phone again, tap on his name, and send him a rock. Then I chew on my bottom lip and scowl as Chloe the slutty cat strolls into the room.

She was giving us space. And now she’s likeha! Lame bitch. He stood you up.

“Zip it.” I sit up and fold my legs, crisscross style. Not nearly the seductive, sexy pose I was aiming for ten minutes ago. But I unlock my phone again and stare at our chat history. The rocks he sends me every single day now after my last trek to New York. HisI love yous. His filthyI wanna fuck yous,when I know for a fact he’s at work and really should concentrate in that moment.

I bring a hand up and scratch my neck as five-forty turns to five-fifty—not late by anyone’s standards. But he said he was on his way twenty minutes ago, and it takes all of ten minutes to walk home. And that’s if we’re slow and chatty and distracted.

Swallowing, I move to our call log and tap his name, setting our call on speaker and tossing the phone down while it rings. And rings…

And rings.

“Hi. You’ve got Archer Malone. Leave a message at the beep.”

“What the hell is going on?” Scowling, I find Fletch’s name instead. Hitting dial, I turn on the mattress and set my feet on the floor, but then relief envelopes my body when the lineconnects and Fletch’s laughing tone echoes through my room. “I know you aren’t bored with him yet, Delicious. Why are you calling me?”

“He… I…” Nervous, I snatch up the phone and take him off speaker. I press the device to my ear and frown. “He’s not with you?”

“Archer?” He chuckles and says something to Mia about sprinkles. Oven.Hot-hot. “He’s with you.”

“No, he’s not. He said he was on the way, but now he’s not here.”

“We parted ways like…” I see in my mind the way he searches for a clock. “I don’t know. Twenty-five minutes ago. Dude had ants in his pants and was walking your way when I turned and came home.”

“He could have stopped in the bar, I suppose.” I bring my hand up and nibble on my thumbnail. “Maybe Tim grabbed him on the way past for a sec.”

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