Page 72 of Dash

“Scream for me, baby.”

And then I ride him shamelessly, the memory of my mother fading like an old picture left out in the sun too long, before he has me screaming.

SEVENTEEN

DAYNA

It’s two days later.On the way to work, I buy a disgustingly sweet coffee that has too much syrup and far too much cream.

It’s an expense I can’t really afford, but I need something to get me through my shift at the office and then my second shift later at the coffee shop.

My feet are dragging as I walk the rest of the way to work, moving with the flow of people all suffering the same corporate fate.

Working two jobs and spending all my free time getting my insides rearranged by Dash is taking its toll. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so happy and yet so tired in my entire life. It’s as if my bones are weighted down, and my brain has become soup.

So, I’m excited about my coffee. I’m hoping it’s going to perk my tired ass up.

The first sip curdles in my stomach like rotten milk. What the fuck?

I swallow down bile, my body staging some kind of internal séance.

I blow breaths out through pursed lips, trying not to puke.

Okay, clearly my body does not want sugar or caffeine today.

I wish it had told me that before I spent five fucking pounds on it.

I hold the cup like a trophy the entire way to work, and by the time I reached my desk, I know there’s no way I’m drinking it.

I want to cry.

I need more sleep.

I need a new stomach.

Janet from accounts walks past my desk as I shrug out of my coat, eyeing me like I personally sacrificed her firstborn on top of her filing cabinet.

I give her an over-enthusiastic smile until she’s out of my eyesight, and then I glare.

As I power up my computer, all I can think about is crawling back into bed tonight. Though if I fall asleep on Dash one more time, he’s going to stop coming over after work.

I miss him already.

I pull out my phone.

Play your cards right and I might dig out that tool belt tonight.

I’m grinning as I load up my emails, clicking through the first three and sending replies.

I’m just about to open my project folder when my phone vibrates.

Dash:

No point putting it on just for me to take it off.

My breath stutters. This man…

I’m about to reply something flirty when another message comes through. I open it, the smile still on my lips.

---