Page 23 of Maksim
Wildflowers.
“You don’t need to clean the floor by hand. Or at all.”
Her breath shakes as she looks away uncomfortably. Her chest rises and falls with her heavy breaths, and I bet if I pressed my hand against it, I’d feel her heart racing.
I take a step back, ignoring my hardening cock.
She really cleans up well. Without the dirt or smell, she’s… Well, she’s beautiful.
“This is where I live now, yes?” she asks, her voice soft but strong.
I open my mouth, ready to tell her no, but I don’t know how long she’ll stay here, so I nod instead. “For now.”
“Then I don’t want to live in a home with a floor so dirty a mop won’t scrub off all the filth.”
I look around. It’s definitely a bachelor pad, but there’s a housekeeper who comes twice a week, and it isn’t ‘filthy’ by my definition. But okay.
“Besides, what else am I to do all day?” She doesn’t look at me when she asks it, and I don’t miss the tremble in her voice. “I am only your whore, correct? I don’t have other responsibilities?”
She runs her nails over her arms as her eyes meet mine. She’s asking me something serious, but it takes me staring at her for several seconds before I understand what it is.
She wants to know if they get to fuck her too.
No.
The answer occurs in my mind automatically, but I don’t voice it, choosing instead to let her sweat. If she was a true whore, broken in long before she came to me, I don’t think I would care. But she strikes me as innocent, naïve, young. She’s too pure to dirty.
“Can you cook?” I ask, pretending I didn’t fully understand her question.
She swallows and looks away for a moment before nodding.
I hand over the box of macaroni, and she hesitantly takes it. She tucks long, dark hair as smooth and straight as fine silk behind her ear while she reads the back of the box. Her full lips sag as she scans it.
“What about cheese?” she asks.
My eyes pinned to her lips cause her words to delay registering, and it isn’t until she looks up at me that I blink and snap back to the present.
“Hmm?”
She flips it over to look at the front. “It says it’s to make macaroni and cheese, but cheese isn’t one of the ingredients listed.”
“It’s in the box.”
She squints at me. “What?” Her eyes dart to the box as she tears it open and peeks inside. “I don’t understand.”
I take it from her and pull out the cheese packet, holding it up for her to see. “This. It’s powder. You pour it in with the milk and pasta.”
Bewildered, she snatches the packet from my hand and tears one corner before pouring a little out into her palm. Her face is the cutest I’ve seen it when it twists with disgust, making me grin.
“Have you really never had mac and cheese?”
She looks at me like I’ve just committed a crime and shakes her head. “This isn’t cheese. This is disgusting.”
My chest rumbles with a laugh.
“This is funny to you?” Her eyes are wide, and when her jaw drops, parting those plump, pink lips, I get the urge to kiss her. She looks between me and the orange powder. “You’re going to die of cancer at forty.”
“That’s dramatic and untrue… I have you to take care of me now. I’ll make it to at least fifty.”