Page 70 of Sunshine & Sinful

I can let him touch me in public. It’s fine. If I wanted him to stop, he would.

Giddiness swirls in my gut as a certain thickness prods my backside.

I’ve never done this before with anyone, not like this, anyhow. The yacht doesn’t count. I was playing a part.

“Now tell me about this job,” Sunshine prompts, to focus my mind on something else instead of how acutely aware I am of his fingers when they graze my bare nipple. Or his equally mischievous hand that slips down to cup my pussy over my loose, cotton pants.

“The… th-the three hot doctors,” I stammer like an idiot, then close my eyes and focus on the conversation, not the predatory touches. Not the hardness of his body beneath my own. Not his hot breath on my neck. On the words. The words are key. “When Big’s woman quit her job, I filled her spot as a receptionist. I wasn’t there long. Maybe a week? It was one of the easiest jobs I’ve done.”

“Were they the ones you strapped naked to chairs in their office? Then poisoned them?” he whispers in my ear.

I nod dumbly, having a hard time concentrating. “Th-that’s them.”

“Right. Now I remember.”

“Andwhydo you remember?” I press my lips together to keep from laughing.

“The butt plugs.”

Smiling far too wide for my own good, a small chuckle slips free. “And?”

“Ball gags.” He snickers as if he remembers it fondly.

That makes two of us.

Butt plugs and ball gags. Man. It’s the most memorable of my jobs to date. Kinky doctors. Switches. Looking for a woman to submit to them but also dominate them. We hadn’t done more than flirt. My texts were inundated with innuendo and promises of fun. I reeled them in within days of starting my job. The weekend came, and I drove to the nearest sex shop to purchase three ball gags, three large butt plugs, a bottle of lube, a few whips, and a strappy dominatrix outfit—black and shiny, with knee-high boots and sharp heels. The fishnet stockings were my favorite.

I asked them to meet me at their office on Sunday, our day off. I had the time of my life, watching them eagerly fuck each other, plug each other, and help each other attach the ball gags before I tied them to their chairs with the promise of pleasure. When really, I’d already poisoned the lube they put into their asses and wine they drank to loosen up. Waiting for them to die in the most humiliating way didn’t bother me. It was just another job well done.

“I bet that was fun to clean up,” I tease, knowing untying dead, naked men with toys attached was not the highlight of his month.

“Anybody you off, Sweets, is fun for me. I fuckin’ love what you do.” He pecks the back of my head, and I melt.

Sola audibly awes. “That’s so sweet.”

It is.

Turning around to kiss Sunshine, I give in to temptation and make out with my man in front of my sisters and customers, not giving a single fuck if they care. I don’t pull away when the raucous catcalls ring in my ears or the rod in Sunshine’s jeans pokes my hip, desperate to be set free.

Threading his fingers through the side of my hair, my man, my home, my love devours me, and I bask in all that is him. Just us in our bubble.

Together.

For hours…We drink. We socialize. We dance.

When day bleeds into night, we leave hand-in-hand, laughing, floating on the high of happiness and a bit of alcohol. Well, me. He stopped drinking hours ago.

On the ride home, Sunshine’s manly paw rests on my thigh, heavy and sure, a quiet promise of his unwavering love and devotion. Resting mine on top of his, we don’t speak. There’s no need to. Not when we climb the stairs into our home, and he unlocks the door with his reclaimed key. Not when we strip naked and smudge the house to clear the final remnants of Penelope’s bad juju from our space. Not when we climb into bed together. Not when he kisses me goodnight, and we drift in a dream, wrapping in each other’s embrace, my back to his front, his cock nestled against my pussy.

Every moment is perfection.

Every moment is us.

SEVENTEEN

Sunshine

Pealingphoto after revolting photo from the dead motherfucker’s attic wall, I crush each one in my fist and chuck them into the open paper bag on the floor as my son sorts through the folder the sick fuck kept on my lady.

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