Page 15 of Hotline
Her cheeks blush and she looks away.
“I think I have altitude sickness,” she says. “This doesn’t seem real.”
“It is real, Opal. I assure you that this is real.”
But it doesn’t seem real to me, either.
The atmosphere up here is different from down on the street. It’s clear and inviting instead of dirty and stifling. It’s what she deserves.
I clear my throat.
“Allow me to show you around.”
“I will gladly allow that.”
She trails behind me as I start the tour of the apartment. Every inch of this place was custom-designed by me. She seems impressed with each room I show her.
“You can take whichever bedroom you want,” I say as we get to the primary, “but I think I have a feeling of which one you’ll want.”
I open a pair of double doors to reveal the best bedroom of the four in this apartment.
“Wait right here,” I backtrack into the hallway to grab her freshly washed towels, a bathrobe, a few pairs of silk pajamas, and her new phone.
This is right. The most right and just and meaningful thing I’ve ever done.
I don’t know why the heavens are shining down on me by bringing me this incredible woman, but now I have someone to worship. To take care of. To give my name to.
No one has stayed in this apartment aside from me. I’ve been saving it for something special. Forsomeonespecial. And now I’ve found her.
When I come back to her bedroom, she is fast asleep, curled up on top of the bedspread.
I can’t wake her up. She looks too happy. Her clothes are in a neat stack at the foot of the bed. It’s apparent that she has pride in herself. The simple act of folding her clothing, even though it’s in bad condition, is a tiny hint into who she is.
The sun hasn’t set yet, so I close the blinds and block out the sun so she can have a peaceful sleep. I hope she dreams of me. I will certainly be dreaming of her.
Behind me, she shifts and mutters something. I turn to see her still lying peacefully in the massive bed. I walk over, not wanting to disturb her, but wanting to make sure she’s real. To make sure that I haven’t dreamt her up.
I take off my jacket and lay it over her. She shifts toward me, a slice of sunlight accentuating her peaceful eyes and perfect lips.
“Boss?” she says.
“Yes, Opal.” I sit on the edge of the bed, a safe distance from her, even though I’d want nothing more than to feel her curvy little body beneath mine. “What is it?”
“Thanks for the job.” She pulls the lapels of my jacket up to her chin. “I hope I can make you proud.”
“I have no doubt that I’ll love you.”
My heart clenches inside my chest.
Maybe I already do.
I write a note for her and fold it, setting it down on her nightstand along with her new phone. Mine is the only contact in it, and no one else will know her number aside from me.
Now there’s one last thing.
I go to her stack of clothes and unfold her jean shorts. Her panties are inside, a simple black pair, and it takes everything inside me to not yank them out of the scratchy denim and inhale them. I want to. I so fucking want to. I breathe in deeply and get the faintest hint of her wetness on them. I can’t fucking wait to find out how soft and sweet she’ll taste.
I dig my hand into the back pocket of her shorts and pull out her cell phone. The screen is broken and has little shards of glass stuck between the cracks. My jaw hardens as I slip it into my pocket.
