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Somewhere inside her beautiful body is a beautiful heart. A heart capable of loving and meant to be loved.
I don’t give a fuck about her heart.
I want her cunt. I want her tits. I want her mouth. I want her ass.
She can fall in love with me just like she did before.
As long as I get what I want from her.
Chapter 31
Kate
I havethree orders to work on.
I’m surprisingly focused.
Getting pounded in bed and thrown around like a toy does wonders for a woman.
The first pick up is a birthday cake for asweet sixteen.
A happy-go-lucky man with a slightly bald head and a big smile picks up the cake and tells me quite a bit of his life story. How the last year his wife has battled and beat breast cancer and how much it’s taken a toll on their daughter. Now they are all eager to move on with their lives and live freely and happily. The man quit his job and bought an ice cream and pizza place in town because that’s what his wife wanted.
Not even two minutes after he leaves Mary Beth shows up.
Fuck.
She’s almost prancing into the bakery and I’m not in the mood to see her.
“Hey there,” she calls out. “Where were you last night?”
My heart sinks. “What?”
“I figured you’d be blowing up my phone wanting to go out or something. Just took the night to yourself?”
“Yup,” I say really quick. “Just me and some wine. A hot bath.”
Mary Beth holds up her right hand and wiggles her pointer and middle fingers. “A little personal relaxation?”
“Why use your hands when the faucet is running?”
“Naughty,” Mary Beth says. “Hey, what the… what happened to yours wrists, Kate?”
Oh… fuck…
Without thinking I must have pushed the sleeves on my long-sleeve shirt up.
My wrists are still raw red. It’s not something I can exactly hide.
Kind of like what Corbin did to your boob, right? Might as well just lift your shirt and bra and show Mary Beth now.
“I was carrying a couple big bags of flour,” I lie. “They kind of wrapped around my wrists. It hurt like hell too. But I had to get them from the back and I didn’t want to be away from the front for too long.”
Mary Beth stares me down.
After a few seconds she says, “Maybe you should get some help here. Maybe I can work here with you.”
“You stay away from the kitchen,” I say. “Remember the time you tried to make banana bread?”