underneath her arm, and they’d move a little, too. I stared, breathing heavy, getting hard. She stopped once and looked back at me.
“What are you staring at?”
“What do you think?”
She rolled her eyes. “I didn’t know I was putting on a show.”
“You don’t have to do anything but what you’re doing. I’ll just watch.”
She turned to me with her fists on her hips. “You could help, you know. Instead of sitting there like some sort of sultan. It’s your house. Why don’t you take a little pride in it?”
“You know, I don’t let just everybody talk to me that way. You’re getting away with a lot right now.”
“I’m shaking in my boots.” We faced off for a minute. I had to give her credit, she stared me down. I looked away first.
“Do you want help?” I muttered.
“No. You’ll just make it take longer when I have to tell you what to do.” She opened the rest of the windows to air the place out.
I turned back to the TV. She left the room. I managed to wait until she was in the kitchen before I smiled. I knew she was good in bed, but I hadn’t known until that morning how tough she was. I liked her a little more all the time.
***
“Is there any actual food around here, or do you go to the corner store for everything?”
It was three hours since we got home from the store, and she was starting to wear on my nerves. I knew that was what she wanted, though, to see me lose my shit. So I smiled up at her from the couch. It was almost lunchtime—I knew she would ask sooner or later.
“Do you see food? I don’t have a hidden fridge anywhere, if that’s what you mean.”
“So, what? Can we order something? Or should I go out and get something?”
“Right. I’ll let you go out and get something from the store. That’s a great idea.” I rolled my eyes. “You think I was born yesterday.”
“Listen.” She crouched down in front of me. I could smell her perfume, still in her hair and on her skin from the night before. “I’m here of my own free will. I came because I need the money. You’re not holding a gun to my head and I haven’t gotten the money yet, so it’s not like I’m going to run away. I don’t intend to go home without it.”
She was so close I could have reached out and pulled her onto the couch with me. I kept my hands to myself.
“I’m not satisfied with you yet.”
“I know. Which is why I’m here. There are a million other things I could be doing.”
“Such as?”
“Such as taking care of my dying mother, jerk.”
That shut me up. I turned away, back to the TV. She stood and went back to her work. I picked up the phone to order lunch.
I knew it wasn’t right to keep her the way I was, knowing that the money was for her dying mother, but I wanted her for myself. As soon as I let her go, I’d never see her again. There I was, when I bought her, thinking one night would be enough. It would never be enough. Even when she pissed me off and threw her temper around, I wanted her. I only wanted her more and more, really.
When lunch came, she ate alone at the kitchen table. I left her there. If she wanted to sulk, she could sulk. I’d binge watch a little TV and leave her to her bitchy attitude. Even so, I couldn’t help taking a look in the kitchen every minute or two just to see what she was doing.
***
By the end of the day, the house was cleaner than it was when I first came home. I was impressed, and I told her so. There was no sarcasm or snark in my voice. I meant it. I didn’t think she’d finish, but she proved me wrong.
She was too exhausted to care.
“I need a shower,” she said, getting up from the sofa, where she collapsed after telling me the house was finally clean.
“I don’t know if I have any clean towels,” I said as she walked away.
“I washed them already.” Her voice was flat, low. Like she
“What are you staring at?”
“What do you think?”
She rolled her eyes. “I didn’t know I was putting on a show.”
“You don’t have to do anything but what you’re doing. I’ll just watch.”
She turned to me with her fists on her hips. “You could help, you know. Instead of sitting there like some sort of sultan. It’s your house. Why don’t you take a little pride in it?”
“You know, I don’t let just everybody talk to me that way. You’re getting away with a lot right now.”
“I’m shaking in my boots.” We faced off for a minute. I had to give her credit, she stared me down. I looked away first.
“Do you want help?” I muttered.
“No. You’ll just make it take longer when I have to tell you what to do.” She opened the rest of the windows to air the place out.
I turned back to the TV. She left the room. I managed to wait until she was in the kitchen before I smiled. I knew she was good in bed, but I hadn’t known until that morning how tough she was. I liked her a little more all the time.
***
“Is there any actual food around here, or do you go to the corner store for everything?”
It was three hours since we got home from the store, and she was starting to wear on my nerves. I knew that was what she wanted, though, to see me lose my shit. So I smiled up at her from the couch. It was almost lunchtime—I knew she would ask sooner or later.
“Do you see food? I don’t have a hidden fridge anywhere, if that’s what you mean.”
“So, what? Can we order something? Or should I go out and get something?”
“Right. I’ll let you go out and get something from the store. That’s a great idea.” I rolled my eyes. “You think I was born yesterday.”
“Listen.” She crouched down in front of me. I could smell her perfume, still in her hair and on her skin from the night before. “I’m here of my own free will. I came because I need the money. You’re not holding a gun to my head and I haven’t gotten the money yet, so it’s not like I’m going to run away. I don’t intend to go home without it.”
She was so close I could have reached out and pulled her onto the couch with me. I kept my hands to myself.
“I’m not satisfied with you yet.”
“I know. Which is why I’m here. There are a million other things I could be doing.”
“Such as?”
“Such as taking care of my dying mother, jerk.”
That shut me up. I turned away, back to the TV. She stood and went back to her work. I picked up the phone to order lunch.
I knew it wasn’t right to keep her the way I was, knowing that the money was for her dying mother, but I wanted her for myself. As soon as I let her go, I’d never see her again. There I was, when I bought her, thinking one night would be enough. It would never be enough. Even when she pissed me off and threw her temper around, I wanted her. I only wanted her more and more, really.
When lunch came, she ate alone at the kitchen table. I left her there. If she wanted to sulk, she could sulk. I’d binge watch a little TV and leave her to her bitchy attitude. Even so, I couldn’t help taking a look in the kitchen every minute or two just to see what she was doing.
***
By the end of the day, the house was cleaner than it was when I first came home. I was impressed, and I told her so. There was no sarcasm or snark in my voice. I meant it. I didn’t think she’d finish, but she proved me wrong.
She was too exhausted to care.
“I need a shower,” she said, getting up from the sofa, where she collapsed after telling me the house was finally clean.
“I don’t know if I have any clean towels,” I said as she walked away.
“I washed them already.” Her voice was flat, low. Like she
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