Page 25 of The Price of My Sins

He didn’t respond, choosing to keep driving, and that hurt my feelings, but I tried not to show it. The silence stretched between us, thick and humming with things unsaid. I pulled my hand back slowly, fingers tingling where they’d touched him, and turned to stare out the window. The streetlights blurred past, golden smears against the glass, and I swallowed hard, willing the tears not to come.

I could feel him glance at me out of the corner of his eye like he wanted to say something but didn’t. Maybe he didn’t feel the same anymore, or maybe time had done what I feared most: made us strangers. I folded my arms over my chest, trying to hold myself together. The music on the radio changed to a slow, familiar tune, and I almost laughed at the cruel timing.

As “Superpowers” by Muni Long played, I felt her words. It was as if she was speaking for me through her words. I could’ve sung them with as much conviction as I had sung the previous song, but my mind was asking me, “What’s the use?” Bo was showing me that things had changed even though it felt like old times for the brief three minutes. Looking from the window to the front windshield, I noticed Bo had made a pit stop at this twenty-four-hour wing joint. It was the kind of place that smelled like heaven at midnight, and my mouth watered slightly. He came back to the truck with a paper bag soaked in oil stains and the scent of buffalo and lemon pepper trailing into the truck with him.

We drove for a while after that, out of the city and into the quiet stretch of Long Island. The roads got darker, wider, and quieter. Then we pulled up to the driveway of this beautiful house. It sat back from the road behind a wrought-iron gate. The place looked like it was from a movie about some rich white people who made a fortune off the labor of the less fortunate. Stone driveway, tall windows glowing warm in the night, the bay just beyond, whispering with the wind—this was indeed a palace in its own right from just the surrounding area.

I blinked, then leaned forward in my seat, staring at the driver. “Bo… whose house is this?”

He looked at me like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Mine.” Before I could process his response, he was already out of the truck, coming around to open my door. “Come on,” he said like it was nothing.

His easy tone had me stuck. We were in front of a whole estate sitting on the edge of the Peconic Bay. I knew this shit was not cheap! I also knew Bo had some money, but the type of money it cost to buy and own this type of house did not come easily. This house looked expensive and custom-made. For him to nonchalantly state that it was his with no boast or brag wasBo-coded, but it also showed he was oblivious to the effect his newly revealed wealth had on me.

He helped me down, hand warm and steady, and led me up the steps like I belonged there. The door opened with a soft chime, and we stepped inside. The first thing I noticed was the vaulted ceilings and the valuable art on the walls. As I looked around, all I could say was, “Damn.”

“You hungry? I got extra, and them nasty lemon pepper wings you like. I’m going to shower. You are welcome to look around.”

“Some hostess you are…” I laughed as I took in the home.

It smelled like fresh linen and sandalwood, warm and lived-in. It was clean but not the sterile kind of clean—the kind that made you want to take your shoes off. His couch was dark brown leather, cozy-looking, and expensive. I wandered toward the bookshelf that was lined with paperbacks from all genres.

“Ain’t shit change with me, O… but you are someone I trust, so you already know to make yourself at home.” With that, he led me through the living room to the kitchen. After putting the food in the microwave, he led us upstairs, and it was just as beautiful.

“Your ride is parked in the garage. I figured you’d worry me all night if I let Marcus take it to your mom’s house.” We chuckled in tone at his truthful words before he pointed around the massive hallway. “There are four bedrooms, including mine. Your pick on which one you’ll occupy while here. I have some brand-new tee shirts, too, if you want something to put on to get comfortable.”

“Yes, please. I need to shower too.”

“Fresh towels are in the bathroom cabinet of each room, and there’s shampoo and stuff in the shower already. I’ll leave a shirt on the bed for you.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem. My room is right here.” He pointed behind him.

I nodded and watched as he walked through the same door he had just pointed to and shut it behind him.

Deciding on the room across from Bo’s, and I was blown away by how beautiful it was when I flicked on the lights. Dropping my duffle bag by the door, I put my purse on the bed and looked over the room. Soft lighting pooled in the corners, casting a golden glow over the crisp white sheets. A vintage-looking dresser sat near the window, and everything looked so new, from the furniture to the decor. The room smelled of cedar, and something sweet lingered in the air, making me feel welcomed and safe.

The bathroom inside this room was huge and picturesque. I turned on the shower and stripped out my clothes, excited to try the triple shower heads, one mounted on each side of the shower walls. My excitement was not met with disappointment either. The three shower heads felt like heaven against my body. Although I wanted to, I didn’t stay in long, because I still was curious about why Bo had picked me up since my advancement on the ride here was basically shut down. I quickly moisturized my body with the honey butter lotion I found in the bathroom before slipping on the tee shirt Bo left on the bed. I noticed the clothes I had taken off weren't on the floor where I left them, so I was sure he’d taken them to be washed.

I grabbed my phone from my purse and plugged it up to charge before following the scent of food to the kitchen. Before I could make it fully inside the gigantic space for cooking, I was stopped in my tracks by the view. Bo was shirtless, wearing nothing but ball shorts and slides, and the scene hit me like a wave. His back was all smooth muscle and ink—tattoos that curved with every flex and movement, drawing my eyes like a magnet. The low waistband of his shorts teased just enough tomake my breath catch, and for a second, I forgot all about the food. All I could think about was how badly I wanted to trace every line on his skin with my fingers and maybe my mouth.

“It smells good in here,” I said, walking further into the kitchen. I climbed up on the stool at the island and continued to watch him. He placed the food on a long tray, along with a pitcher of what looked like lemonade, some napkins, and two pre-rolled blunts.

“If you don’t mind, can we eat on the back porch? I want to smoke.”

I hopped down and followed him out back. His back yard was just as scenic as his front. With it closed in, he had his own private views of the Peconic Bay. A table, along with two big lounge chairs, sat awaiting someone to utilize them. From the lack of wear and tear, I could tell this area did not get enough company.

“This house is beautiful, Bo.” I sat on the pillow-top lounge chair and tucked my legs, looking out at the moonlit sky. It was dark, but the house was close to the beach, so you could hear the waves crashing.

“Thank you. I drove out here a few months ago to clear my head. When I saw how cozy and dope the neighborhood was, I decided to purchase a house. This is my first time staying out here.”

While Bo smoked, I dug into my wings. At first, we didn’t talk; we just enjoyed the ambiance of the view. Even though it was around three in the morning, I wasn’t tired.

“Come here, Olivia.”

I didn’t hesitate. The way he said my name sent a slow ripple down my spine and ended at my pussy. I walked over, still licking sauce from my fingers. He reached for me, pulling me gently down onto his lap. His body was warm, solid, and relaxed beneath me as he leaned back deeper into his lounge chair, onearm wrapped around my waist while the other still held the joint between his fingers.

“Mm,” he murmured, burying his face into my neck. “You smell like lemon pepper and honey.” He laughed, taking a big pull from his blunt.

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