Page 52 of Cookie: Part One
“Yes, Pechenye?” My chest tightens. Every time he calls me that, I short-circuit a little. There’s no damn way that nickname should sound that tender… especially knowing its origins.
“Can you please let me up? I’ve had to pee for a while now.” I peek at him, craning my neck back and seeing his expression upside down, and he chuckles.
“Da…” He removes his hand. “But you have zhree minutes,” he grumbles.
“W-wait… three minutes?! What the hell am I supposed to do with that?!”
“Pee and come back to me,” he states, and my jaw hits the mother fucking floor as Pyper snorts next to me.
“Told you so.”Ugh, shut up.
“And what if I take longer?!” I throw him a smug smirk and he tilts his head, causing me to flinch.
“Don’t,” he states coolly and I groan.
“Told youuuuu soooo,” Pyper sings this time, and I narrow my eyes in a glare at her.
“Ugh, at least give me five!” I grit and he smirks, sitting back.
“Fine…” I turn, practically running to the bathroom, but shit… all the ones downstairs are taken! So I go upstairs in this mansion that overlooks the racetrack and pray that the first oneI come up on is empty, practically jumping for joy when it is!Yay me!
I go inside, locking the door, and the moment I release, Iexhale,like all the tension has flown from my body. Quickly, I wipe and flush, then wash my hands, wondering how much time I have left on the clock, then exit the door, nearly bumping into someone.
“My ba— Oh...” the words die on my lips as I see Veronica’s ass standing there with a scowl.
Oh lord… here we go.
“You vhore,” she hisses, stepping closer and I throw my head back, exhausted.
“Okay… go on.” I look at her blankly and apparently my unbotheredness makes her seethe harder.
“You are a poor, loud, desperate American slut vho doesn’t know vhen she’s being used.”
“Oop.” I blink. “That’s a lot of words for Elmo!” I smile and her eyes flash.
“Issssss zhisssss fun for you? Embarrasssssing yourssssself? Climbing all over someone vho doessssn’t evenvantyou? Befriending people vho do not like you? You are a vhore going after someone’sssss HUSBAND! You… you fuckingHOMEVRECKER!”why the fuck this bitch sound like Sylvester the cat?
“Husband?” I huff, low and syrupy. “Let me make three things clear to you. One, I want nothing from that man, but dick,NOTfeelings. Not his mansion, cars, or whatever the hell else comes attached to him or his monetary value. Two, thisisallfun and gamesto me.
I leave in a few days and get to look back at this as a blast from the past whileyouwill be seething at the next bitch your so-called husband chooses to pick up. And three, I might be a whore and a slut, but this week, I’mMisha’swhore to slut out, and every bitch in that box can see there was never a house to wreck. No warmth. No love. Nohim.
Truthfully, I feel bad for you. While I’m home taking my ass to work and minding my business, you will be sitting here day after day, week after week, year after year arguing with the new bitches your so-called husband brings in. It’s tragic, honestly. But if you’re still confused, maybe go check on your HUSBAND. You know, the one who put my ass through the mattress every fucking day since I got here and gently fucked me to sleep in his arms the other night? He might have a better idea of what house is really getting wrecked, because I have no earthly clue.”
“You zhink you’re special, but you’re not! I’ve been eating Nadya’s pussy and sucking Dimitri’s dick vell before you came into the picture. For Misha, you’re just a fling. Stop embarrassing yourself!” She stops and I throw my head back, laughing.
“Fucking finally… you hear what the fuck I’m saying. IknowI’m just a fling… and I don’t care. I’m an unbothered fling, I’m a well-fucked fling, I’m a get my pussy ate and throat fucked fling… I’m a fling who’s now taken your place. Now go cry about it, bitch, and leave me the fuck alone.”
I spin on my heel, going right back to where I’m supposed to be, right into Mikhail’s lap again, and look up to see her watching me over the banister. She only fumes more as he pulls me close and presses a kiss to my temple before he tucks his head into the curve of my neck.
And a bitch feels like Phaedra Parks when she read Kenya Moore for the filth on the Real Housewives of Atlanta Season Six Reunion. Now check that. I say internally as she groans loud as hell, but no one pays attention her as she stomps off and out of the mansion, slamming the door behind her.
“You good, Pechenye?” he whispers in my ear and I twist in his arms, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing his ear.
“Da, Misha,” I moan, and I immediately feel him get hard.
“You took five minutes and one second… I’ll have to punish you for zhat,” he growls, and I shudder with anticipation.
“Please.”
