Page 39 of Mine for 24 Hella-Hours
Especially for the first time. It’s not as easy as people make it appear.
“As much as I want to and I really want to. It needs to happen gradually with trust, practice, and care. And some toys. And I would provide that.”
“But it can’t be done today.” She finishes in a weak voice knowing where this is going.
“No. I don’t want to hurt you.” The twitch in the corner of her mouth lasts for seconds before she nods in understanding.
“What do you want to do next?” I ask, diverting the conversation and entwining our hands. “Sex in public? I always wanted public indecency on my record. You will be my first.” I give her my humorous face.
She laughs and the sound coming from her lips is the perfect melody I’ve ever heard. Except her moans. They’re fucking sexy.
“You’re gonna help me do grocery shopping.” Is that a devilish smirk on her lips?
Who’s the devil now?
Her mouth moves again, “Whatever I want, remember?” wiggling her brows once.
“How can I forget?”
The grand supermarket has endless aisles of brands and choices. Every shape, color, and taste crosses my unfocused lens. Everything blurs but her.
“My groceries are in the aisle to the right.” She turns to walk in that direction.
“I want to check something, so go ahead, I’ll come find you in a bit.” I want to cook her dinner which is why I need to come up with an idea.
“Great.” She waltzes away with a bright grin. The calmness suits her, it wraps her with serendipity that’s hard to miss. I think she needed that break. Routine could be a bitch sometimes.
My boots squeak on the white-gray polished floor as I pass rows and rows of fresh goods.
Enormous stacks of pasta brands fill every shelf around me. It can leave any person disoriented. Sometimes I get lost in all the endless possibilities but not today.
Yesterday, while we played twenty-questions Dylan said her favorite meal is Fettuccine Alfredo.
I like the package that comes in three colors.Catches the eye like her.
I don’t know what flavors ignite her taste buds. Yet.I know whatshetastes like. Getting the chance to indulge in her likes and dislikes would be a privilege if she’ll let me.
I fetch a few options. Grab a box of heavy cream, cheese, and some other fresh ingredients.
Where is my girl?
Stepping at the entrance of the aisle, my eyes land on her discomforted form as she listens to some guy. Plastering a fake smile which I recognize in a second due to the fact I track her every move since the first time I laid my eyes on her.
My molars grit.
Oh hell no!
Who’s that fucker talking to my wildflower? Or why? Is the right question.
He goes to touch her shoulder and all bets are off. He could be her best friend, her brother for all I care and it still won’t change the fact she withered around him.
I interrupt without a care in the world because he doesn’t exist. “Hey, wildflower.” I focus my attention on Dylan. All that matters is her. And I can’t shake the glimpse of panic in her eyes.
She wantsmegone orhimgone?
I’ll go for the latter.
I gently place my arm around her shoulder and whisper in her ear. “If you want him gone, squeeze my hand.” I remove my arm swiftly to hold hers.
