4. Warren
4
WARREN
A few days later, I lean against the railing of my balcony watching the pinks and purples of the evening sky swirl as an icy breeze from where the Pacific Ocean meets the bay cools my heated skin.
One hand in my empty pocket, I recall the way I’d spent the entire ride home from the wedding toying with the scrap of lace I’d stolen from her. Her pretty pink panties serve as both a trophy and a memory from a sexual experience I don’t think I’ll ever get over.
She insisted our tryst was a one-time thing. No numbers, no regrets. I knew the score when I went home alone on Saturday night. It would hurt, knowing I’d never have her again. Never get to know her or kiss her perfect lips again, but I was okay with it. I’d have my memories of her lemony scent, the image of my cum on her lips and the sweet taste of her cunt to keep me company on lonely nights .
But this morning, everything changed. One email. One meeting over lunch in Hayes Valley. A few hundred million dollars spent and one social media deep dive that came an hour too late, and Kira is no longer just the one-night stand I will surely still be fantasizing about on my deathbed. A deathbed that I will probably be laying on sooner rather than later because in a few months when the news breaks…
Kira McKenna is going to fucking kill me.