Heart In A Cage

10

Isabella

I decided I wanted to be a cranky lady this morning.

After having been told that what I and Andreas do is for our own "amusement" or to provoke Dalia on a tense car ride home from the club, I wasn't too eager with being sweet and sitting on his cock.

You can't be with other guys. Dalia will find out. Those were the rules of our agreement.

I had told him to fuck off and that I'd sleep with who I wanted. He didn't seem too fond of the idea, and I'd caught on to the way his palms had tightened around the steering wheel and how his nostrils flared. He was silent for the rest of the ride.

That quiet successfully seeped into the morning after. The air between us as he drove to the store today was utterly still except for a few mumbled curse words whenever a driver would do something to enrage him. It may have been because of our unsaid vows not to speak, but he hadn't shouted at anyone.

He saved his shouting voice for now.

"I specifically told you to manage the price tags, and I don't recall ordering Gina over here to take on that duty." He waves a hand over one of the new workers that'd come in some time after me―a young girl, red-dyed hair, nervous in her work. She has a price label gun in her hand and is tentatively placing it on the display table as the male victim to Andreas' wrath tries his hardest not to reveal how panicked he is. "Taking advantage of inexperienced employees? That's beyond even you, Michael."

Michael picks up the price label gun, a shirt along with it, and pulls out the tag from inside the collar as Andreas questions him.

"You're going to do your own job from now on?"

"Yes, sir."

"You'll take over Gina's duties in compensation for your selfish decision to have her complete your set duties?"

"Yes, sir."

"I'll never have to admonish you for a matter like this again?"

"Yes, sir."

A treacherous thought skips about in my mind seeing Andreas act on his role of being a boss―seeing him reprimand an ill-disciplined employee, rise his chest to enhance the fright of his authority, watch Michael click the gun and print a price sticker on to the tag with threatening concentration. Then I also see his biceps pressuring the cotton around his sleeves as his arms cross, the tall frame of his body towering over anyone he's within proximity to, the sharp structure of his facial features and how it adds on to his dapper appearance.

I want to slowly unbutton his dark-green blouse, push it out the way of his chest, and explore the span of his tattoos by running my hands across his skin. Maybe after I've done that, kissed him all over his bare torso, slid my tongue up his abdomen, I'll move down to his black pants and shred it to pieces until I have his cock in my hold. He'll be above me, and I'll be on my knees—sucking, biting, licking. I can do it. I will do it.

I drag myself to the present and notice that he's staring at me. I'd been so drawn into that disturbingly vivid fantasy of mine that my reality was sucked into the horny depths of my mind and I lose sense of what happened in the last thirty seconds. Both employees have departed into different sections of the store and Andreas is the only one remaining at where his little scolding took place. Arms still crossed. Gaze on me.

I drop my head and fumble with the buttons of the register.

Why am I thinking about giving him a blowjob? The reminder that I'm meant to refrain from craving him has only now surfaced. After I had a little daydream and got my panties wet. Two fixes of his body―fingers, more precisely―weren't enough to fill me up. Having more would sate me, but I'm straying away from him completely because, again, I'm meant to be a cranky lady, and the whole false relationship thing isn't something I'm happy about.