Page 36 of Plum

“I—You could—” The maid’s casting around the apartment, looking for some solution to my problem. For some reason, the maid’s averse to waking up her boss.

“I’m just gonna take some cash from his wallet.” I fish it out of the bowl on the hall table. “Just tell him that Plum took—” I take out three bills. Shit. “Sixty bucks.”

How does this guy live here with a maid and he’s only got three twenties to his name? My day just got way more difficult.

The maid’s really giving me the stink eye now. I can’t be bothered to care. My stomach has started to hurt. This does feel like a hangover, except the thought of bacon and eggs makes me want to puke.

“Right. You have a good one.” I kind of raise the $18,000 bottle to her, and then I tuck it in my purse on my way out the door. She ain’t gonna say nothing about the champagne now. She’s worrying over the sixty bucks in her head.

This is a real coup, but I don’t feel right.

Maybe I’m getting sick? I wrap my arms around my middle while I wait for the elevator. I wish I’d brought a jacket. This dress feels too tight which is weird ‘cause usually Lycra stretches.

My eyes prickle.

There’s a noise behind me, and I whirl around, my heart leaping and then crashing. It’s only the maid turning the deadbolt. The elevator beeps, and the doors slide open. I step on. Check my phone. I’m at six percent ‘cause my dumb ass didn’t plug it in.

When I get to the lobby, I walk real slow. There’s a woman behind the desk now in a red jacket. She glances up, and then she looks through me. The doorman smirks at me too wide and way too long.

There’s no ding of the elevator. No running footsteps.

Of course. This ain’t a movie. I’m being stupid. This is real life. I am what I am, and what I am now is in need of coffee, wifi, and a ride home, in that order.

I walk a few blocks until I find a coffee shop, and I treat myself to a mocha while I charge my phone. Sixty bucks ain’t gettin’ me all the way back to Petty’s Mill, so I may as well dip into my funds for caffeine.

The farther I get from that penthouse, the clearer I can think. I call Cue, and after he bitches me out on principle, he says hold tight, and he’ll call me back in ten. He rings back in five. A prospect from Smoke and Steel, the MC’s support club up in Shady Gap, is gonna come get me and drop me at their clubhouse. Grinder’s there helpin’ to plan a poker run, so he’ll ride me home once he’s done. There goes the whole day, and I don’t see me getting a shower before work, but part of me don’t mind.

I can still smell Adam on my skin. The spices in his cologne. His sweat. It’s faint. Almost gone. But as I gingerly perch my ass on the wooden chair of the coffee shop, muscles aching, chilled despite picking a seat by a vent, the scent’s the only thing that doesn’t suck.

And the $18,000 bottle of champagne zipped in my purse.

This prospect better not ride like no maniac. He breaks my bottle, I’m gonna break his fucking nose.

CHAPTER 5

ADAM

She robbed me.

I wake up from the deepest sleep I’ve had in months—maybe years—and Plum’s gone, along with the money from my wallet and the bottle of Louis Dupuis. At least my maid had the good manners to leave a note.

Mr. Wade—

Your guest took money from your wallet for cab fare. She said it was okay.

I should have been at work hours ago. I need to take a shower, wash the sex off, get my head on straight, but I can’t stop pacing from room to room. I’m so fucking pissed, I want to put my fist through a wall.

I want to go after her, drag her back here and fuck her again until she won’t even think about sneaking off. Lock her up. Redden her ass until she cries, until she’s sorry she walked away like that was nothing.

Even I realize these urges are insane. Last night was nothing. A lapse in judgement.

Except for the missing money and champagne, there’s hardly evidence she was here. The dishes are washed and put away. There’s only the rumpled bedding that smells like her, musky with a faint trace of fruity bodywash. The smell reminds me of her skin, how she felt against me, soft at first and then sticky later, her plump tits and her firm, jiggly ass.

My dick throbs, and that pisses me off, that she’s not here to ride me, take my cock as she screams and mewls until her eyes roll back in her head. I wasn’t imagining that. You can’t fake that kind of response.

I collapse on the bed, raise the sheets to my nose and take my cock in hand. I’m hard, so hard thinking about how her tight pussy pulsed, gripping me, how her blue eyes blurred after she came, how she clung to me, molded to me so perfectly.

She loved it. I know she did. I felt her walls squeezing my cock, and afterwards, she tucked her chin in the crook of my neck and pasted herself to me. She must have loved it.

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