Page 150 of Breeding Her: The Red Flag Edition
I lifted it again and gave it a shake. Not heavy. No strange sounds.
I told myself it was probably colour-coordinated stationery. Maybe pastel highlighters or novelty paper clips.
Something harmless. Something nerdy.
But it had me curious.
Too curious.
I stared at the packaging a second longer before opening my drawer and pulling out the box cutter.
Just a little peek.
From the bottom.
She’d never know.
No one would ever know.
I sliced the tape clean through.
Just a look to satisfy my curiosity. Or enough to confirm it was stationery—something harmless.
But as I lifted the flap, the contents stared back at me like a secret I was never meant to know.
Black, sleek with a hint of silver.
Shaped like the gear stick of a sports car.
Not a notebook.
Not pens.
Nothing innocent.
It was unmistakable.
A vibrator.
Expensive, judging by the finish. Then again, what did I know about women’s toys?
The box sat heavy in my hands, humming with implication. I didn’t move. Couldn’t. Something twisted low in my gut, heat curling like smoke. The kind of heat I hadn’t felt in a long time. The kind I didn’t trust myself with.
We took in one another’s parcels from time to time, but I’d never opened one before.
I should’ve sealed it back up. I should’ve marched it to her door and handed it over like it meant nothing.
But I didn’t.
Instead, I sat there, staring at the thing she’d ordered to get herself off.
And every thought I’d buried since she first moved in—the stolen glances, the what-if fantasies, the scent of her shampoo lingering in the hallway—surged to the surface like they’d been waiting for an excuse.
And here it was.
Wrapped in matte black.
Her name on the label.
