Tinkerbell gives a short yap when my cellphone buzzes from my pocket.
I must still be really needy and hungry from the closeness on the yacht because the vibration makes my sex tingle and dance. My clit has been an urgent, hot point of pleasure ever since the changing room, when his bare chest was pressed up against me, hot and compelling, commanding every vein in my body.
I take out my phone, and glance at it.
It’s Kris.
A pit swirled in my belly as I watched his car pull away, missing him before he’d even left the parking lot.
It should be impossible after knowing somebody for such short a time.
But I don’t care.
I know I feel it. I know it’s real.
That’s all that matters.
I walk into my bedroom and close the door, placing Tinkerbell down as I swipe answer on my cellphone. My hand is trembling as I bring it to my ear.
I need to calm down, but the tremors of the closeness in the yacht are still ricocheting through me. They light up parts of me that have never been touched before, let alone set ablaze in the way Kris does.
“Hello?” I murmur.
“I’m sending a car to pick you up,” he growls. “I can’t wait any longer.”
I let out a whimper, remembering when I told him I was ready on the yacht. But that was different. That was in the midst of our lust when I felt like any moment I could erupt and sink the whole freaking boat.
“Kristian,” I murmur, dropping onto my bed.
Tinkerbell sits at my feet, looking curiously up at me.
“Kimberly,” he says, voice rumbling. “I know you’ve spent your whole life never being told you’re beautiful. I hate that. I fucking despise it. It’s not fair—it’s not true. You’re beautiful, you’re sexy, you’re kind, you’re loyal. You’re everything I need for the mother of my children. But tonight, I need your body. Your curvy, round, full body. It’s driving me insane, thinking about how tight and hot you’re going to be when I thrust deep inside of you.”
“But what if I can’t?” I say, leaping to my feet.
I wander to the window and look out into the night.
The apartment building opposite is a tapestry of lit and unlit windows.
“You will,” he snaps. “Because I own you, and it’s what I’m telling you to do. If I have to spend twenty-four hours easing myself into your wet virgin cunt, I will. And I’ll enjoy every damn second of it. Now be a good girl – the good girl I know you want to be, for me – and tell me you’ll come.”
I turn, glancing at my full-length mirror. I’m wearing a hoodie and jeans, and I’m not wearing any makeup. The first word that comes to mind is frumpy.
I hate it just as much as Kris says he does, this instinct I have to put myself down.
I have to start believing what he tells me.
“I just need to check with Jackie,” I murmur.
“Of course,” Kris says. “Call me back.”
He hangs up and I scoop up Tinkerbell again, cradling her to my chest.
I return to the living room and then Jackie’s bedroom door. She’s standing back from her work, her paintbrush held like a pistol, her head tilted as she appraises the canvas. She’s added some stunningly detailed fireflies to the scene.
“I know, it doesn’t fit,” she says. “I can always change it.”
“Don’t,” I tell her. “It adds to the surrealism.”
She nods. “Awesome.”
“Um, Jacks?”
“Yeah?”
“I was thinking of maybe spending the night with Kris.”
“Okay, sure,” Jackie says, still staring at her painting.
She pauses, and then something clicks, and she wheels on me.
“Wait a sec,” she says, pacing over to me. “Do you mean spending the night, or do you mean spending the night?”
“Um, the second one?” I laugh.
She walks over to me but stops just short so that she doesn’t get paint any on me or Tinkerbell.
“You don’t seem very happy about it,” she murmurs.
“No, no, it’s not that,” I say. My voice rises and my cheeks bloom red, filled with a fierce fire. “I want to do it, Jacks. I really want to go to him, to be with him. I want to feel sexy and alive. But I can’t shake the feeling that I’m just that loser girl who called up the fast food joint expecting it to be her prom date.”
“Fucking Aaron Fitzgerald,” Jackie hisses. “If I ever see him, sis, I’m going to jam this paintbrush so far up his ass his eyeballs will be my canvas.”
“Jeez, Jacks,” I giggle. “Seems a little extreme.”
“Would you agree that Kris and Aaron are not the same person?”
I roll my eyes, but I can’t help but laugh.
“Yes, Jackie,” I say in a student-to-teacher way. “Kris and Aaron are two very different people.”
“So why on earth would you think that Kris sees you the same way as that dickhead did? As far as I can tell, Kris really likes you. He’s already made a commitment to you.”