Page 7 of Their Little Snow Angel
A purple bag catches my eye, half-hidden by the ottoman. It must be one of Violet’s.
I’ll take it to her. Yeah, it’s an excuse to see her, talk to her. She can’t hide from us forever, can she? I don’t think she wants to.
That view of her silhouette…it made me see her in a whole new light. She’s my friend’s kid, but she’s an adult. And she’s so fucking hot and sweet. She reminds me of those cinnamon jawbreakers I had as a teenager. Burning until you got past the hard coating, and then sugar all the way through.
I grab the bag’s handle.
The zipper comes undone and the whole fucking thing spills open with a massive clatter.
I couldn’t ignore the contents if I wanted to. Fuzzy handcuffs—the cheap kind from novelty stores. Six different vibrators—all in their original packaging. A red and green glass dildo, a jeweled butt plug shaped like a Christmas tree. Are those nipple clamps? With little jingle bells attached to them?
What is this girl up to? Is she opening up a holiday sex shop?
Hurried footsteps sound on the stairs. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” I can’t keep the laughter out of my voice. “I was just going to bring your bag up to you, but it…”
She runs to me, her fluffy socks skidding on the wood floor. “I?—”
I wait. Her face is so pink, it looks painful.
Finally she blurts, “Pretend you didn’t see it.”
“Sweetheart, I can’t pretend I—” My words dry up. She’s mortified. If I tease her, she’s going to run. I gather up the items. “Of course. This never happened. I’ll help put away your…uh…crafting supplies.”
“Thanks so much.” Her voice is a raspy whisper. She doesn’t meet my eyes.
As soon as the sex toys are all put away, she gathers the bag to her chest and runs back upstairs.
I watch her go, my dick twitching in interest.
Well, well, well. My best friend’s daughter is kinky as fuck.
Violet
I have to go. I have to leave.
But where?
I can’t go back to my apartment—Mikayla’s doing her own thing with her boyfriend.
A hotel. Those exist. I have enough in my checking account for a few nights.
I turn on my phone, ready to search for the nearest hotel. An alert flashes across the screen.
Severe storm warning. Hazardous driving conditions. Please remain in your homes and shelter in place.
This—no. It must be false. A prank? Who would pull such a prank?
I sink to the floor, cross-legged, gripping my phone.
Brody, one of my teen crushes, saw my bag of sex toys spill out in front of him. He touched my dildos and vibrators, shoving them back into the bag.
With his big, strong, capable hands, he helped pack up my humiliation.
He didn’t make jokes. I could tell he wanted to. He’s always been the funny one. But he bit back every zinger just now, as he put my “crafting supplies” away.
I rush to the window to see if he’s gone to tell Heath everything that happened. I imagine the two of them down there, laughing uproariously about what Brody saw fall out of my bag.
