Chapter 8

Sadie

H aving Brian sleep in my bed for two weeks made coming home to an empty house feel strangely unfamiliar. While it wasn’t a permanent living arrangement, I had gotten used to it. I liked it. Regardless of where we were in our relationship status, Brian made me feel … safe.

Since I had stayed longer than usual at the bookstore, I no longer had the energy to cook dinner, so I threw a frozen Buddha bowl in the microwave. After retrieving a bottle of mineral water from the fridge, condensation immediately formed on its surface before I poured it into a tall glass. I tossed the bottle into the overflowing kitchen trash can, but it bounced out and hit the floor with a loud clatter.

“Shit,” I cursed, standing up and heading to the trash. As I tightened up the strings to pull it out, I stilled.

Wait a minute… .

Slowly, I lowered the trash bag and opened the cinched plastic top, sifting through the contents. When I moved everything around until I reached the bottom, I blinked.

This was the trash can Brian threw the condom in. I saw him do it.

This was undoubtedly the most unusual rock bottom a woman could encounter—rummaging through her trash to find a discarded, used condom.

My mind replayed the images of everything that happened after we fucked in the kitchen, having memorized the encounter almost perfectly. The condom should have been right on top. I stood straight, and my eyes darted around the trash can, thinking maybe it fell out, too, but it wasn’t there.

Where the hell is this goddamn condom?

A chill ran down my spine as my eyes swept around the kitchen. Maybe someone robbed me. Perhaps I should call the police and— And what, the more rational part of my mind questioned, tell them that the only thing the robber took was a used condom? Stop freaking yourself out. It had to have been in another one.

With a quick step, I rushed into the bathroom, popping the trash can lid open and rummaging through the trash there, as well. Nothing.

Did he take it with him?

As bizarre as Brian, of all people, taking a cum-filled condom with him before his trip was, I allowed my body to relax, accepting that as the only explanation. I thought about texting him, but that would have made me seem like a freak, so I sighed and gave up on the idea. Rubbing the sore spots on my throat, I turned off the lights.

As I stepped out of the bathroom, I heard a squeal and turned around quickly, my heart thumping hard in my chest.

“Poe,” I yelped. “What are you doing? Sorry, sweetie. Did I step on your toe?” I leaned down and scooped him up, pressing his soft black fur against my chest as we walked to the couch. “Are you digging through my trash and pulling shit out again? If you took that condom …”

Poe let out a soft purr when I squeezed him tighter before setting him down so I could grab my dinner.

I really hope I don’t find it somewhere a month later. A shudder ran through me at the thought.

I propped my feet up on the coffee table while I dove into my meal, with Poe snuggling right by my side.

“It’s just you and me tonight, bud,” I told him. And the mystery of a missing condom.

After I finished dinner, I placed the plastic bowl in the trash bag, tied it off, and took it to the garage bin—out of sight, out of mind.

The wind howled, rattling the garage door and echoing loudly against the finished walls. I noticed the door hadn’t closed all the way, leaving a two-inch gap at the bottom. I walked over to the wall and hit the button, but nothing happened.

Great.

Mason had done his best to upgrade his second home before I moved in, but it seemed like the breaker tripped at least once a week. If it wasn’t the garage door, it was my bathroom, the kitchen, or the stove. He had been promising to have an electrician come out to repair it, but that was over a month ago.

I grabbed my phone from my back pocket and texted Mason to let him know I’d be flipping the breaker again. Maybe if I did this daily, he’d get sick of me texting, and it would force him to fix it. Or perhaps I would have to take matters into my own hands.

I went through the side door and over to the gray breaker box against the AC unit. After examining the switches, I found the culprit and flipped the garage breaker back on, along with the upstairs guest room lights that had also tripped. The wind suddenly picked up as I closed the door, tossing my long hair in my face. It was a cold, icy night, and I shivered in my thin tank top and shorts.

Maybe, someday, I’ll get used to this frigid weather.

The side door to the garage was about to slam shut, but I caught it with my hand, slipping inside and locking the door.

After closing the garage again, I returned to the house and noted the time on the microwave.

Eight-fifteen.

I stretched my arms over my head and yawned. Though I’d usually stayed up until at least ten, watching television or reading a book, I felt like I had been awake for days. It didn’t help that the wind rattled my windows at all hours of the night, preventing me from slipping into a deep sleep.

After splashing water on my face and changing into my silky black nightgown, I climbed into bed. I quickly adjusted my pillow before settling on the cool satin cover and glanced at my phone, intending to read for about ten minutes before falling asleep. Things rarely ever went according to my plans. I either fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow, or I would stay up reading for hours.

The book I was currently reading differed from the ones Mason sold in the store. Honestly, I felt a bit ashamed to recommend these types of books. They were a secret part of my interests that I was too shy to share with anyone. It was a thrill for the heroine to be sought out by a man who was morally ambiguous, possessive, and prone to violent behavior. But never to her. He’d treasure her even if she attempted to flee from him before he caught her, restraining her on a bed and fucking her raw while she screamed his name. I sighed. The memory of him popped into my mind, but I quickly did my best to chase it away. I couldn’t allow myself to think about Keelan. Not after everything that had happened. And most certainly not now that I was with someone else. A good man, too, who treasured and treated me right in every way.

Though my mind tried to convince me that I only liked these things in fiction, my body didn’t quite get the memo.

After flipping through a few chapters, I was already feeling myself growing wet between my legs. The heat inside me was unbearable, itching for a release. With a small sigh, I put my phone back on the nightstand, switched off the light, and allowed my hand to inch closer to my opening. I rubbed my wet clit in soft, slow circles, pushing my hips upward as pleasure tingled inside me.

“Oh, God,” I breathed out softly. My pace quickened, now moving rougher and more demanding, to where my fingers left a slight sting in their wake. But it wasn’t enough. Not even close. I reached over into my bedside drawer and grabbed my vibrator—pink silicone, almost eight inches. It was perfect for the blend of pleasure and pain I always craved. I flipped it on and pressed it against my opening. I was so wet already that it slipped inside me effortlessly. The little rubber rabbit-shaped nub stayed out to line perfectly with my clit, stimulating me in a way that had my entire body shaking. And my thoughts went into the darkest of my fantasies .

I slid down until I was flat on my back and looked up at my bedroom ceiling before closing my eyes, my breathing heavy as I spread my legs open wider. I pictured the face of the man from my book, the way I imagined him, anyway, straddling me and taking me as his. And I had no choice but to surrender to his mercy because I was his, whether I liked it or not.