Instead, I retreat to my bedroom and dig into my closet for a clean dress shirt she can wear for now. I pull my phone out of my pocket, calling Doris. She answers on the first ring.
“Hey, Boss. You alright? It’s late,” she says, sleepily. I look at my watch, it’s only nine in the evening, but Doris is older. I suppose nine is pretty late for the boss to be calling no matter how old a person is.
“Yes. I’m fine. I need you to pick some things up for me and bring them to my townhouse as soon as you can. You might have to wait until in the morning.”
“Sure. Go ahead and text me what you need.”
“Will do. Have a good night.”
“You too, boss.”
After hanging up, I send her Lorielle’s address. I am not a monster. I called her father and told him that Lorielle would be spending some time with me. I made him see the reason why she’d be doing such a thing after never even having mentioned that she knew me. It is good being the boss. He’s packing her a bag with clothes and the things she can’t live without. Then I offered him a job which he gladly accepted. It might be misconstrued as a payment for his daughter, but that’s not the case at all. Lorielle is free to go anytime, I just won’t tell her that.
As I near the bathroom, I can hear her singing Make Me by Britney Spears. I only know that song because my cousin, Danica, sang that song at the top of her lungs all the freaking time when it first came out. I set the shirt down on the counter and grab a brand-new toothbrush and some toothpaste from under the sink and set them on top of the shirt, so she’ll see it. One of many eccentricities is needing a new toothbrush all the time. I can typically get a week or so out of one before I get skeeved out and I toss it. Waiting three months is tantamount to torture for me. I leave, closing the door behind me. I don’t want to think about what she looks like right now with hot soapy water trailing down her body.
Armed with knowledge about her from her social media pages and her public Amazon wish list, I order dinner from her favorite Indian restaurant, The Samosa Master, and a few groceries from a store we provide protection to. Both orders will be delivered within thirty minutes. I even was able to find out what her ideal engagement ring looks like from her Pinterest. I shudder to think what would happen if all this information that is so readily available about her falls into the wrong hands.
I hear the bathroom door open, turning to face her yet again, I am stunned. Her hair is hanging in wet curls making the white shirt that is too small in the chest and too big everywhere else see-through.
“It doesn’t fit,” she pouts.
“It fits fine,” I assure her.
“My boobs are full display.” She tries to cover up but fails. Goddamn, I’m a bastard, but I was born this way, she just brings out a different side of me.
“Not as full as earlier, but just to be on the safe side, I’ll answer the door.”
“Who’s coming over?” she asks panicked.
“Dinner and some groceries. No one is staying. I want you all to myself.”
“Oh good,” she says. “Am I allowed to watch TV? We don’t have cable or internet at home, and you seem like the kind of guy that does.”
“Yes, of course. You can watch whatever you want.”
“What if I want to watch porn?” She’s testing me and I want to put her over my knee. My dick twitches in my pants at that thought.
“Whatever you want,” I say, not budging. She will have to beg me for my dick and I’m begging to realize that is going to happen sooner rather than later.
“Make yourself at home. I’ll be right back.” I tell her.
“You trust me to stay here?”
“You aren’t going anywhere.” I walk out of the room and into the bathroom in my bedroom. Besides, even if she tried, the alarm would go off and I’d catch her before she got very far.
After a hot shower, I pull on some sweats and head back down the hallway just as the alarm goes off with an ear-splitting whoop, whooooop sound.
Son of a bitch, she’s trying to escape, I think as I run down the rest of the hall. Instead of her trying to leave, I find her wrapped in the comforter from the spare bedroom, answering the door. Thank God, she put something over those tits. I don’t want anyone looking at her that way. Both delivery guys are here, and they are both staring at my woman like they have death wishes. I punch in the code for the alarm and the obnoxious sound stops.