:: previous – You Know I Still Love You
I give farewells to the pilots, thanking them for the safe ride as I descend black carpeted steps off the immaculate private plane.
Timothy is in the distance leaned against a bright blue sports car I’ve never seen before. He’s dressed in white slacks and a short-sleeve navy blue shirt as the wind whips his dirty blonde hair around like he’s in a photoshoot. He waves at me. His phone is in his other hand, pressed against his ear.
Suddenly, something sour moves inside my stomach, filling me with dread.
“Hi Timmy.” I smile big, hoping to hide my fear. My eyes are already puffy from crying. I don’t need to look worse.
“Hey Misa.” He pockets his phone and pecks my cheek, leading me away from the blue car. Weird. He’s usually all over me. “Thanks for coming.”
I look back at the plane again. “How do you make a living?” I’ve been dying to know.
The crew puts my bags inside a shiny black car and shuts the trunk.
“Ah. Don’t worry about that.” His big blue eyes gaze past me. “I have a quick matter I need to check on. I’ll meet up with you on the yacht after I wrap up here.”
“Yeah, you ever been on one?”
“No…” I look around. Angry looking quiet men in black suits hover around us with black circle frame sunglasses on, strange things attached to their ears and weapons at their sides. “H-how do I get there?”
“My people will take you.”
Timothy whistles and one of the five suited men approach.
“Misa, meet Pace. Pace, this is Misa Honey.”
He’s the biggest of the group with an emotionless demeanor, shiny beige bald head and large protruding belly.
“Miss Honey.” Pace says with a deep, gravelly voice as he holds the car door open for me.
“Oh.” He didn’t mention his last name. “When are you coming, Timothy?”
I feel my sunflower move closer to me, gripping my shoulder. I think it’s afraid… Because I am. “What? You said it would be quick.”
He laughs. “I’m joking. Don’t worry. Pace will take good care of you.” He squeezes my hand reassuringly. “I’ll be there soon.”
“Okay.” I whisper and get into the car.
Pace shuts the door behind me.
I turn around in my seat and look out the back window. Timothy is laughing with the pilot and the pretty red-haired stewardess from my flight.
With his hand at her waist…
. . .
Inside my bedroom on the yacht, Pace sets my bags inside a generous sized closet as I stand in the distance watching him. The entire ride here he never spoke a word. He has an odd vibe that makes me feel unsettled and unsafe.
“Miss Honey, can I help with anything else?”
“No, thank you.”
“I will be outside your room if you require assistance.”
Huh? Outside my room?
I tip toe to the door and open it softly. Pace is inches away, standing quietly in the center of the hallway.
Is he guarding this area? Or here to prevent me from leaving?
He turns around in my direction. I stumble back in and lock the door quick.
“Miss Honey?” Pace’s voice is muffled through the door. “Do you need anything?”
My stomach hurts again. “N-no! Thank you!”
If this is what I think it is, it’s best I remain kind to my captors. That way, I’ll stay in their good graces.
I get my phone to message Timothy.
Is Pace a guard or something? Are you almost here?
Timothy read your message.
Okay, good, he saw my message. Now answer!
I text him again.
Nothing, not even a read receipt.
“All right, just calm down. You’re okay, you’re safe.” I peek through the window. “We haven’t left the dock yet.”
My phone chimes. Emilian.
Did you know the Titanic received multiple warnings about icebergs before it struck one? Imagine traveling across the ocean with your life in the hands of people you cannot trust.
That’s a weird fact, considering I’m on a huge yacht right now.
I learned that in Earth Studies. Strange place.
Ugh, what will I text back though? I don’t want to sound stupid…
So, how are you?
Oh no. Three texts. He definitely wants to talk. Ugh, this is the worst timing. I can’t!
Wait. Is my read receipt on for his messages?
I scroll through the settings on my phone. No! It’s on. Ohmygosh, seriously? I swear I turned that off. Great. If I don’t respond now, Emilian will think I’m ignoring—
“Hey there.” Timothy grabs me by my waist from behind, scaring me to death. My phone falls on the spotless white carpeted floor.
“Wha—how’d you get in here?”
He walks over to the wall and knocks on it with a smile. From top to bottom, the wall cracks open, revealing a secret opening that leads to another space.
“This one connects to the master.”
“Where you and I will sleep tonight.” He grins sexily. “Come on, I’ll show you.”
Oh no no no. “I’m uh, kinda hungry, Timothy. Are we—”
He links his arm with mine, urging me inside.
An enormous bed sits in the center of the spacious suite dressed in cozy white linens and white fluffy pillows while large skylights fill the room with a satisfying dose of natural light. The bathroom is wall-to-wall white marble with a shower big enough for multiple people. There’s fancy cabinetry, custom built-ins and inviting furniture throughout. Even the white carpet feels like I’m walking on a cloud.
“You like it?” Timothy smiles, watching me as I gaze around the room. “I arranged dinner for us on the way here.” He checks the shiny silver watch on his wrist. “We got a solid half hour before it’s sent up. If you like, we can eat on the deck.”
Timothy presses something on his phone and another wall opens out to the deck, revealing an incredible panoramic view of the ocean.
“Wow…” I breathe in the rush of salty air swirling around us. “Timmy, what are you doing for a living?”
He steps closer and I bump into the nightstand behind me, causing a jade vase full of fresh white roses to wobble. I turn around to catch it just in time.
Timothy chuckles in between slow kisses down the side of my neck. “Let it break,” he whispers in my ear. His body presses against mine from behind and I feel his arousal growing by the second.
“Why? It’s… b-beautiful.” I stroke the side of the vase trying to distract myself. Smooth and cold. Agh, I’m so nervous!
“I can get another.”
I reach for the rose, but Timothy takes my hand away, scoops me up, and lays me down on the bed. It’s so soft, like I’m sinking into a marshmallow. Timothy’s hands are everywhere across my legs and on up…
“I need to know what you do and how I can apply.” I whisper. It’s not normal to let a vase break. Especially expensive looking ones on a yacht.
“I’m a busy man, Misa.”
He kisses me with urgency as his hand reaches under my dress and squeezes between my thighs, uncovering my wetness. He parts my legs further and I feel his fingers trickle down, slowly brushing against the outside of my panties… “Ahh…” I squirm, but he quickly puts me back in position.
With one hand, he cups my breast, squeezing my nipple as the other yanks my panties down. My mouth hangs open, surprised to feel his thick finger push inside of me. I shut my eyes, frozen in a rush of pleasure.
Emilian… I see his face in my mind with every pump, but I don’t let his name leave my lips.
Remember, Misa. You’re with Timothy right now. Don’t forget. Timothy.
“T-timmy…” His finger moves faster inside me. It feels so… I try to fight his kisses off to finish my question. “Why do you have… security?”
“Mm… huh?” Timothy mumbles against my lips. “So wet… tight…”
He pulls his finger out and shuffles with his slacks. His lips never leave mine. I hear the clink of his belt, then the leather strap slithering through the loops.
I break from his kiss.
“Pace was standing outside my door.” Timothy pulls down his slacks. “Is he still out there? His vibe is off, like he’s done some unforgivable things, you know? He scares me…”
“Jeez Misa, come on.” Timothy climbs off me with an annoyed look on his face.
I think I killed his vibe.
We sit up against the plush white headboard in shared silence.
“Look, there’s not much to say. Okay? It’s just work. And for work I have security, alright?” He frowns at the cut across my cheek. “Why don’t you tell me about your day?”
I can’t because I’ll start talking about Emilian and moaning his name.
“Uh, it’s okay. I’ll just start crying again.”
“But if you cry, I can make you feel better.” He rubs my thighs again, inching up slowly.
“Well…” How can I tell this story and leave Emilian out of it?
Timothy gets out of bed.
“I’m listening. Just taking this shirt off.” He flings it across the room and grabs my ankles, pulling me down to the edge of the bed. “Keep going.” He drops to the floor and vanishes between my legs.
I sit up on my elbows and freeze.
There’s a naked woman on the dresser.
“Is that the stewardess?”
Timothy doesn’t respond. I look again, harder. Red hair. She’s holding a white rose sitting on the hood of the same blue sports car I saw at the airfield.
“H-hey…” It’s hard trying to fight off his finger and speeding tongue. “Timmy…” I push myself backward on the bed to free myself from his grip. “Who’s that woman in the picture?”
I point ahead. He looks around, confused.
“Behind you. On the dresser. Isn’t that the stewardess from your plane?”
“Oh.” He looks at the photo, surprised. Then angry. “Looks like she’s playing games.”
“The redhead? What games?”
“Games of jealously.” Timothy takes the picture and stares at it longingly. “She put this here… probably. We’re not really… My, she’s, you know.”
“No, I don’t know.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
Carefully, he sets the photo inside a small wastebasket beside the desk. The remaining light of the day hits the frame’s silver edge as it peeks over the top of the wastebasket. A glaring reminder of his past, or whatever was between them that was present at the airfield.
I remember Timothy’s hand at the redhead’s waist. What were they laughing about? When I got off the plane, I got a peck on the cheek and rushed into a strange black car.
I stare at the frame again.
That isn’t meant for the trash. It’ll be back on the dresser once I’m gone because the redhead will still be around, flying with Timothy on his private planes while he lives his secret life, bouncing between his two homes. One life here in the district, another in Black Mountain.
One for her, one for me.
“Misa?” Timothy asks. He waves his hand in front of my face, interrupting my thoughts. “You good? Looked like you were in a trance.” He grins. “Are you thinking about me?”
He stares at me like he already knows something is wrong.
“I want to go home.”
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