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Kissing Booth by River Laurent (59)

Mimi

I looked at his cock. It looked like something that had been made from smooth plaster. It was so…mammoth. Every inch was blemish free and flawless. Like a beautiful golden horizontal pillar. I wonder how he will fit inside me. I couldn’t wait to impale myself on it. He rolled a condom on it and rubbed the tip of it on my wetness. I closed my eyes with anticipation.

Suddenly my ring tone jerked me out of my frenzy. For a second, it didn’t register properly and I froze.

“Leave it,”’ he snarled.

I wanted to leave it, but nobody called me at this time of the night. Megan knew I was with Max so she would never call. Unless it was an emergency. It could be my mother. My mother and I have drifted apart since Grandma died, but I was all she had. My phone continued to ring.

‘I can’t,” I whispered. “It could be an emergency. My mother.”

He pulled away from me with an oath of frustration and I scrambled away. Suddenly I was aware of how naked I was. I grabbed the phone and looked at the screen. For a second I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.

Tracee!

What the hell? Why would be she be calling me now? She had never called me anytime after eight. Never. Something must be very wrong with her. I looked at Max. He was staring at me with a disbelieving expression. “I’m sorry I have to take this,” I said.

He groaned and lay back down. I took the call.

“Oh, thank God,” Tracee cried urgently. She sounded frightened and shaky.

“What’s wrong Tracee?” I asked, my blood running cold.

“I’m so sorry to call you, but I, I didn’t have anybody else to call.”

“It’s okay. What is it?”

“It’s my brother. I think he’s dead.”

“What?” I gasped.

“The police just called me. He was in a car accident,” she said, her voice trembling uncontrollably. “I have to go and identify the body. They want me to go to the Office of the Chief Medical Examiner. I have the address, but I have no one to go with me,” she ends on a sob.

“Oh, Tracee. I’m so sorry. Of course, I’ll come with you.”

“I’m sorry to ask you, but I really have-”

“Don’t worry about it, Tracee. I’m glad to be able to help.”

She started sobbing. I couldn’t believe this was the Tracee I knew. Cool, calm and collected. I didn’t know what to say. “Don’t cry, Tracee. Please don’t cry. I’ll get there as soon as I can.”

“Thank you, Mimi.” She sniffed. She sounded so grateful I felt sorry for her. “Thank you so much. How long will it take you to get here?”

“I’ll call for a cab now.”

“Thank you, Mimi. You don’t know what this means to me. I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

“It’s okay. No, you didn’t.”

I asked her to text me her address and hung up. Max walked towards me. He had zipped up his pants and was holding my bra, panties and my dress in his hands.

“Do you want me to come with you?” he asked.

“No. It’ll just make her feel uncomfortable.” I couldn’t look him in the eye. I held my dress against my body like it was a shield.

He leaned forward and kissed me on my forehead. “I’ll call you a cab.”

When he had turned away I pulled my panties up and slipped my arms into my bra.

I dressed quickly while he was on the phone arranging an Uber ride for me. “I’m sorry,” I said.

“No problem,” he said, but his eyes glittered.

Max insisted on coming down the elevator with me. He put me into a cab and closed the door.

“Make sure she gets into the building she’s going into before you drive away,” he told the driver and handed him a twenty.

“Gee, thanks,” the guy said.

Max stood on the sidewalk as the car pulled away. I turned to watch him. He looked so broad and tall. I felt confused and dazed.

When I got to Tracee’s address she was waiting for me in the lobby of her building. She was wearing jeans and a green sweater. Her hair was disheveled and she looked white and shocked. I could hardly believe she was the same woman I worked for. She was so different.

“Thank you for coming, Mimi. I’m sorry to bring you out here at this time of night.” Her voice broke.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind,” I said quickly.

She pressed her forehead with her hand and cried pitifully, “God. How could this have happened? I just saw him last week.”

I felt inadequate in the face of her loss and grief. How was I supposed to react to her distress? Should I reach forward and comfort her or just stand there? She had never been a touchy-feely sort of person and she always drew a fine line between us. We were always boss and subordinate. Besides she had a germ aversion.

“Hey, it’s okay,” I said without attempting to touch her.

She pressed her lips together. “All right, let’s go.”