by Abby Knox
Her smile is somewhere between evil and feral, and her voice drops low. “Don’t be sorry. You can go there. If you want.”
Oh. My. God.
“Really?”
She bites her lips and grinds her pelvis against aching cock. She squeezes her eyes shut as if she’s embarrassed to add, “I kind of want it in there while you fuck me.”
How is it possible for anyone to be this cute and this sexy? “Your wish is my command, sweetheart,” I say, slipping my fingers back over her ass cheeks, my index finger just barely penetrating the tiny opening.
Our gaze locked, every inch of her soft skin touching every inch of mine, she slowly takes in my cock.
She’s so ridiculously hot and tight, I never want to pull out. Stella begins to move her hips up and down to slide me in and out, but I hold her tight with my free arm and lock her tight to me. “Stay here with me. Go slow with me.”
I couldn’t say how long we move together like this, her arms and legs wrapped around me, my finger and my cock filling her up, the friction between us building up her already heightened arousal, our mouths devouring and worshipping each other’s well-loved flesh. The pleasure of her breaks me wide open and I’m shocked at the release I feel in her arms. I bury my face in her chest and roar curses and oaths to her as I come.
“Fuck… Holy shit… Stella… You're fucking amazing.”
She takes my simple offering into her body amidst an explosion of cries, convulsions and trembling. Her body milks every last drop out of me with her shuddering aftershocks. Not only did I nut like I’ve never nutted before, and I am sweating like a beast, but also my eyes are leaking.
We are wrapped so tightly together and neither of us wants to let go for the longest time.
When we finally do, both Stella and I are covered in sweat and tears.
The two of us share gentle kisses until we get control of whatever emotions are causing this outburst.
“Gonna be kind of hard to top that,” she says. “What now?”
I comb my fingertips through her hair and suggest the only thought left in my head, “Ice cream.”
Chapter Fourteen
Luke
The next morning I leave the house before Stella wakes up, to run a few errands for Lucille, shower at my apartment, pick up some coffee, and pack myself an overnight bag to keep at Stella’s house.
Stella surprises me at the door when I return to her.
She’s not dressed for work, nor is she dressed for bedroom shenanigans, though I’ll happily remove that zip hoodie and those skinny jeans if she gives me the green light to fuck her brains out right here in the foyer because, damn, does she look happy and sexy as all get out.
“What got into you?”
She blushes. “Besides a nine-inch wonder? I had an idea. You’re taking the day off.”
I rear back, setting down the cardboard drink carrier on the side table. “I am?”
“Yeah, me too. We’re both taking the day off. A little bird told me today’s your birthday, so…”
“How’d you find out it was my birthday?”
“Do you really want to know? Trust me, you don’t want to know all the things I could find out about you if I decided to.” She points to the coffee. “Is one of these for me?”
I shrug. “Yeah, I was hoping to catch you on your way to work, but this sounds like you have something else in mind,.”
Stella in stockinged feet isn’t quite tall enough to lean in for a kiss the way she can when she’s wearing her work heels. I sort of like this angle, looking down at the top of her loose, casual curls, her big eyes dancing as she looks up at me. “I do,” she says, a mischievous gleam in her eye as I lean down for a kiss, wrapping her up in my arms.
“Happy birthday, lover. Are you hungry? I made you breakfast.”
She pulls me into the kitchen and I don’t have the heart to remind her that my intermittent fasting precludes me from eating breakfast, but then I see what she’s done. A small cake with the words, “Happy bday, Lucky.”
When I remark on the misspelling, she pouts. “It’s not my fault, I told them…”
I cut her off with a deep kiss and remind her that I am the luckiest person in the world, so the cake is perfect.
Next to it is a candle, which she picks up and places on the cake. It feels like someone has squeezed my heart while I watch Stella light the candle and sing “Happy Birthday to You.”
When she’s finished, she tells me to make a wish and blow out the candle.
“Honestly, I can’t think of anything I would wish for.”
Stella offers, “Then think of a silly wish. Anything at all. But you have to tell me so I can make it come true.”
I shake my head. “That’s not how wishes work but OK.” Seriously, I’d do anything just to keep her smiling like that.
I blow out the candle and make my wish.
And then I tell Stella a bald-faced lie.
“What did you wish for, birthday boy?”
“It’s totally silly, but the only thing I could think of was to go back someday to Indiana for the local Amish flea market.”
“The what?”
“Seriously. The food is amazing, I always find a bargain, and nobody makes more beautiful furniture. Anywhere.”
She considers this. “I did not see that coming. OK. Let’s go then.”
I’m confused. “What, you can’t just…”
“Yes, I can just. I have a private jet. And it’s your birthday, and I want to see where you grew up. The plane ride will give us time to talk and get to know each other. So, close your mouth and let’s go.”
Chapter Fifteen
Stella
The pilot lands the plane at a small private airfield in the cornfields of Indiana where a car waits for us.
“Seems a bit like overkill to have a plane and a driver whisking us off to Amish country and not, say, Paris or Rome.”
“Oh,” I respond, brightening up with another idea. “If you’d rather go to Rome, baby, I can get you to Rome.”
Luke laughs and pulls me to him for a heart-pounding kiss in the back seat of the town car. “I don’t care where we are, as long as I’m with you.”
The truth is, I jet off to parts unknown every other day of the week to check on the company’s many branches and servers. Small towns in the middle of Kansas. New York City. Middle of nowhere Canada. If someone is doing something innovative in internet security, it doesn’t matter where they are. If it looks good, I either invest or offer to buy. It may seem foolish to invest in the competition, but better security is good for everyone.
Luke holds my hand as we glide through the countryside. He was not exaggerating when he told me about this place. Every half a mile or so we pass a horse-drawn buggy with passengers dressed like characters right out of the movie Witness—my only frame of reference for the Amish.
We pass tidy white farmhouses with long lines of plain clothes drying out in the sun. Workhorses in the fields. Some homes have solar panels on the roofs.
“What the—,” I blurt out when I see this.
Luke explains that for some Amish, their faith allows them to have solar and wind-powered electricity in their homes.
“Especially if they run a business like a grocery store, cheese shop, or a bed and breakfast that serves the English. It’s impractical, then, not to have electricity.”
This is blowing my mind. “That is not at all what I pictured in my head when you said Amish country.”
The car glides to a stop at the entrance of a huge gated area in the middle of a field.
We spend the day buying up Amish furniture that will be shipped across the country to outfit Luke’s new office in my—our—house. I am unable to resist all the arts and crafts.
Luke finally has to pull me away from the flea market to eat lunch, and we gorge ourselves on Amish cheese, bread, and jam while sprawled out on a blanket in the afternoon sun.
By the time we’re completely stuffed, we
consider whether to fly home tonight or try to find a local inn or B&B.
He jokes about the fact that we might have to pretend to be a married couple if we’re going to want to stay in the same room in any of the places nearby.
But then, strangely, my best friend Laney decides for us.
Panic rises in my stomach when her text arrives, reminding me we were supposed to meet up today for a swim after work.
“Make yourself at home,” I type with my apology. “I’ll be home in a few hours, and I’ll make it up to you with a girls’ night in. But prepare yourself. I ran off with a new guy for a little getaway for the day and I want you to meet him when I get back.”
She texts back, “Be careful. Could be a gold digger.”
I gasp when I see the word and I plop the phone, screen down, against my chest. I look up and see that it’s too late. He saw it.
“I swear I wasn’t trying to read over your shoulder,” Luke says apologetically, picking grass out of my hair.
I sit up. “ I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t think she was going to go there.” I place my hand on his chest. “I want you to know that I know that’s not who you are. I would never think that about you. I’ve been through some drama with other people who only wanted to be close to me for my money. And I can read that on people now. And most importantly, I’m crazy about you. I’ll have a talk with Laney when we get home.”
Luke pulls me up to my feet and we pack up the remains of our picnic. “It’s all right, sweetheart. People will need time to get used to us together. Which reminds me,” he says while folding up the blanket, “I need to introduce you to Lucille, my neighbor, when we get back. She’ll need to approve you.”
I snort. “Is she gonna be mad I stole her man?”
“Probably.” He laughs and wraps me up in a bear hug. God, I love it when he does that.
Less than an hour later, we’re on the plane at full altitude, on our way back to California.
“You need one of those private jets with the bed in the back,” Luke says, stifling a yawn, then planting little pecks on my forehead. I’m draped across him on the sofa on the plane, snuggled between his legs and my head on his chest. I feel like drifting off to sleep.
“I’ll get up if you want me to get up,” I say with a yawn.
“Don’t you dare move,” he says.
As I drift off, I hear another notification but I can tell it’s coming from Luke’s phone. I let it go and fall asleep in his arms.
Chapter Sixteen
Luke
I glance down at my phone and see it’s that no-name text from an unknown number. “Our agents will be in touch with you shortly to collect.”
What should have been a relaxing flight back to beautiful Southern California has turned into an anxiety-riddled ride back to whatever awaits me with my responsibilities.
Surely, they can’t take my car without me there, can they?
I really meant it yesterday morning when I told Stella that I have everything I need. I don’t require much.
I may have been misdirected in my ambitions and dreams. I thought I was supposed to be an actor, but after clearing out Stella's house and my neighbor’s apartment, I’ve come to realize something else. I realize who I am. I’m not an actor or even a housekeeper. I want to do for people what I did for Stella and Lucille: make their lives easier and more relaxed by simplifying. It’s a no-brainer.
It makes me happy to do this for people.
And I’m so happy that Stella decided to give me this treat of visiting Amish country for my birthday, but now I wonder if I should have just told her the truth.
What I wished for was not this visit.
What I wished for when I blew out the candles was for Stella to be my wife.
Am I letting my feelings run away with me? Maybe. But Stella inspires it in me. She makes me think anything is possible.
So, maybe I’ll never make it as an actor. And I don’t need to.
We trundle into the town car when we arrive back at the airfield where Stella’s private jet lives in a huge hangar. She insists on going to my apartment first.
“That way we can pick up some of your things and start moving you into my place,” she says.
“Babe, I’m so tired, can we just go to your place to sleep?”
“Honey, I don’t think we’re going to get much sleep if you’re at my house. Besides we’ve gained three hours, so it’s not even close to bedtime.”
“Fine,” I say, gritting my teeth a little more than intended. “But let’s just drop you off at your house first; there are some things I gotta take care of at my apartment. I want to check in with my neighbor lady and some other things.”
“Well, I’d love to meet her.”
“Babe, it’s not that I don’t want you to.”
“Luke, what is going on? Why are you acting so weird?”
Staring down at my jeans, I grind my knuckles into the muscle of my left thigh. “Because I don’t…want you to see where I live. It’s not a safe neighborhood.”
Why did I just say that? Where did that even come from?
“Luke, Oh, honey. You know I don’t care what your house looks like, right? You know I’m totally into this thing we have, no matter what, and I don’t care where you live.”
“Go home and talk to your friend, alone, and then I’ll come over and introduce myself. I think it’s best if we handle it that way.”
Finally, she listens to reason. Even if it’s a misdirection.
“All right, well, if you insist, I can respect that.”
I kiss Stella goodbye. I don’t want to be away from her, even for a second. I hate this, but I have to face this shit on my own.
When I get to my apartment, there’s nobody waiting for me, as I had expected. Weird. Maybe they gave up and went home. Or maybe they’ll be back later.
“Lucas?”
I turn when I hear Lucille’s frail voice echoing off the damp cement breezeway. Spinning around I see her peeking at me through her partially open door, her chain still attached.
“Lucille, hi. Are you OK?”
“Oh, Lucas, I’m so sorry.”
I take a step toward her and see her red-rimmed eyes. A knot of panic twists in my stomach.
“Lucille, what’s wrong? What happened to you?”
“Some men came by and were looking for you. They were knocking on your door when I was coming home from my doctor’s appointment and they started asking me questions. They were looking for you. They were really nice at first and said they were agents. They showed me badges and it looked official, so I thought I was supposed to answer their questions. I don’t know. So I told them where I thought you worked and they left.”
I nod. “It’s fine. I just want to make sure you’re OK. They won’t find me at Maid For You anyway.”
“I’m fine, honey. But that’s the problem. I didn’t send them to Maid for You. I may have let it slip that you’d gotten a job at Stella’s house and then they just got up and left.
And then when they left I suddenly realized I think they tricked me.”
The knot of panic has now multiplied into full-blown rage, but not at Lucille.
“Lucille, I have to go.”
“Oh, Lucas. I’m so sorry. I am so scared, and I don’t want to be alone.”
“Of course,” I say. “Lucille, you didn’t do anything wrong. Those men deceived you. And you’re coming with me.”
Chapter Seventeen
Stella
The man on my front porch in the cheap black dress pants and polyester golf shirt with “Golden State Finance” printed on it is trying his best to look intimidating while sounding polite.
“Ma’am, my associates and I have been trying to reach a Mr. Luke Jeffries, and we’ve been told he lives here.”
I squint up at him, blocking the sun with my hand. The sun is just behind his head, and I think he might have positioned himself this way on purpose to make me feel visually disoriented.
“There’s no resident here by that name.”
He crosses his arms in front of himself. “So you’re claiming not to know where he lives?”
“I’m not sure what you mean. Who are you looking for again?”
I play dumb because I’m buying time to think of how to make this joker leave my boyfriend alone. And also because it’s fun to fuck with people I instantly don’t like.
“Luke Jeffries. I believe you know him.”
I nod my head. “You believe I know him but you don’t know for sure?”
“Ma’am,” he starts.
“Ma’am was my mother’s title. Sorry, I can’t help you.”
I see his nostrils flare in the brief moment the sun isn’t in my eyes while I step to the left slightly. “Ma’am, you might like to know the truth about your friend Luke.”
My mood has changed from being happily high on love to boredom with this man. And now I’m also extremely irritated.
“You can call me Ms. Monroe. And then you can apologize for bothering me at my home.”
“Ms. Monroe, your boyfriend entered into an agreement with us.”
I square my shoulders. “That’s none of my business.”
A smirk forms on his wormy lips. “It’s going to become your business because if he doesn’t pay, then we have to collect the debt somehow. And since this is his part-time residence…”
“Oh,” I say, shifting my weight from one foot to the other impatiently. “So it’s not even a question anymore. Got it.”
“We can, under certain laws, collect the debt from you.”
This makes me laugh. “Under certain statutes such as organized crime, maybe.”
His voice lowers. “Organized crime isn’t real,” he says.
All the years I’ve spent writing code to protect people from malware, exploring the dark web to help protect people, and he’s trying to tell me that crime isn’t organized.