EPILOGUE PT. 2HUGH
EPILOGUE PT. 2
HUGH
She’d spent a week working on the shelves. First, she’d ordered them alphabetically, but she hated the height differences. That’s when she decided to sort them by size. When that wasn’t good enough, they were aligned by color. That seemed to work better for her. The green paint went perfectly with the white shelving units I’d picked out. Once she had the books where she wanted them, she found some solar-powered LED lights and fake pink snowdrops that she wove into the light strings.
The shelves weren’t even half full, and she’d already started up a wish list of more books to fill it up. My records were neatly organized off to the side and she’d started sending me records she loved before making a wish list for those too.
The moment she was finally happy with the shelves and pressed the button that lit up her own little magical forest, I saw her eyes filled with tears as she looked over her masterpiece. Once she was ready, she grabbed a book off the shelf and sat in her new egg-shaped chair before cracking open a book.
A piece of paper slid out and she stared at it before cackling and pulling out her cell phone. I watched her type for a moment before she tossed her phone down.
“What does it say?” I asked, knowing she knew I was watching her. I couldn’t not watch her. The way she moved, the sighs she made when she was content, I was addicted to everything about this woman.
Denny held up the paper and shook her head as she read aloud, “Don’t get so lost in this that you forget there’s a hard dick across from you.”
We laughed. She placed the paper on one of the shelves and turned it back to me.
“Like I could forget,” she said, winking at me.
I felt my dick stir as my hooded gaze drifted down to that mouth. My carefully laid plans were getting ready to get thrown out the window, but I held firm. There would be time for worship later. Now, I needed to fulfill my promise.
“Can you hand me the Michael Jackson record?” I asked, suddenly feeling a little nervous.
“Oh, are we throwing on MJ? Which one?” Placing the book down, she got up and walked over to the vinyl.
“ Dangerous ,” I replied.
“Baby, I’m trying to read, and you want me to put on a whole show,” she grumbled, grabbing the black album off the shelf.
“I can throw it on, don’t worry about gett—” As she opened the sleeve a stack of paper fell out.
“What is she the fucking Zodiac killer? How did she sneak paper into everything,” she muttered, grabbing the paper from the ground.
She cleared her throat and started to read aloud, “‘I, Huey Calder, hereby certify under penalty of perjury that I am the Grantor of LittleM, a Trust established under the laws of the State of California….’ Hugh what is—”
“Keep reading,” I replied, standing and moving closer.
“‘Upon death or incapacitation of the Grantor, Denise Roberts, will act as the Successor Trustee.’”
She didn’t reply, she flipped the pages, her eyes getting bigger as she saw my itemized assets. She numbly moved from page to page, saying nothing. I couldn’t tell what she was thinking.
“I think a trust is better than a deed,” I said, moving a bit closer.
Her eyes were brimming with tears.
“It was just a joke,” she said, wiping at a tear that had fallen.
“Not to me. I meant every word. And before you start, that ring on your finger means all that’s mine is yours. And all that’s yours is mine.” I moved forward and pulled the papers and record out of her hand, tossing them onto her chair.
My fingers found the necklace that hadn’t left her neck since I’d given it to her: fairy wings. The chain was my mother’s and seeing it on her neck made me feel whole. I traced the wings just as much as she did. When my fingers moved from the wings to her chin she immediately started to protest.
“Don’t e—” She eeked as I lifted her up and pushed her back to the bookshelf. “Hugh!” She batted at my hands before grabbing at my shoulders and wrapping her thighs around my hips, bringing me closer.
Her bratty mouth always said that I was annoying her, but the way she moved her body against mine, it was proof that it would never be enough. “I just fixed these,” she moaned.
Denny didn’t realize that I’d bought the sturdiest shelves they had so when I fucked her against them, they’d hold up. But I knew how long she’d worked on these, and I didn’t want to undo all her meticulous organization. Not yet. I brought my hands to her ass and pulled her tight to me, heat radiated through her sweats. When I moved us to the empty shelves to the right, I erased the space between us, driving my hips in a circle right against her center as her eyes drifted shut and she bit her lip.
“All that’s yours is mine. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes.”
My fingers traced the edge of her pants and she moaned, shifting her hips against me, trying to get the friction that she was craving. I’d give her what she needed, once she gave me what I wanted.
“All that’s mine is yours,” she repeated, her fingers running through my beard as she pulled my head to the side and her fingers rested against my neck, giving me a light squeeze and making me groan.
“My pussy,” I said, moving fingers down into her pants and tracing the wetness collected on her panties.
“Kiss me,” she said, her pupils dilating as my fingers dipped, finding her clit.
My lips captured hers, matching the rhythm that my fingers had on her center. Her moans buzzed on my tongue. She brought her hand down and she grabbed me so hard that I hissed.
“Now, fuck me with my dick.”
Whatever my Little Menace wanted.