Her Good Girl (COMPLETE)

3. Packing

Malia Thornbury

I was eager to see her face again.

Half of me took her just to piss her parents off. The other half of me loved how she looked in her little dress and took her because I wanted to see her between my legs, craving me.

And I wanted to be between hers.

But that's beside the point.

I stepped from the car.

"Stay here, I'll be out soon." I told Toby, our driver as I knocked on the door.

The mother answered and I gave a bitter smile while nearly shoving past her.

I looked for the door she came from last night and knocked.

She opened it, frowning when she saw me.

I smiled in return. Enjoying her fear and disappointment.

"Im not done packing." She mumbled.

"It's okay, I can help you." I offered.

She nodded, moving over and I stepped in, looking around.

Now it made sense why she chose the third house.

It was modern, sort of fancy.

But she chose super modern, dark. I was suddenly curious.

"How come you chose the third house?" I asked, looking through her closet, cringing at some of her clothes.

Oh babygirl, I'm gonna need to make you wear better things.

"I don't know, it's serene. It- never mind." She whispered.

"Talk." I didn't like that. You can't not finish a thought.

"Have you ever seen the music video for Heaven by uhm, Julia Michaels?" She asked.

I smiled.

"I have."

"It reminds me of that. Calm, something with a cool aesthetic and it seems like your type of house." She mumbled.

I folded some of her clothes, putting them in her empty duffle bag.

I looked and saw her packing her undergarments and bras. The only thing relatively nice in her wardrobe.

She had smaller breasts, but nonetheless probably gorgeous.

"Stop looking." She frowned and I smiled at her.

"Darling, get used to it. You're adorable, I can't help being curious. Your baggy clothes but pretty face makes a girl wonder. The dress you wore last night seems to be the only article of tight clothing to exist here." I hummed.

The corners of her mouth dipped downward her face turning pink.

I chuckled.

"Fine. 34 B. I don't have boobs." She sounded sad about that.

She didn't, she was smaller, a pear shaped body, pretty thighs my hands could easily grasp.

Hips, a cute ass, a soft stomach, easy to kiss and fill with food.

Collarbones pointed and nearly hollow, smaller arms. A perfect pair of lips, defined cupids bow, not too big, not small, coated in a pink gloss I wanted to taste. A pale face, dark brown doe eyes, gorgeous brunette hair, strands of natural highlights moving through it as it hit her collarbones, inches past her shoulders.

"I don't have the body type to work tight clothes. Andy father said I can't be a whore." She gave a small laugh like she knew it wasn't true.

"Do I look like a whore?" I asked.

She turned, looking at me, her eyes evaluating my body, especially my chest.

"No." She sighed.

"And you have the perfect body for tight clothes. Don't pull that bullshit again." A pet peeve women did.

Put themselves down for shit they can't control.

It's something I won't tolerate. Feeling insecure is one thing, I feel that way sometimes, but my wife thinking she is imperfect when she has the perfect body to get my pussy wet pisses me off.

"You wear what you're comfortable in, sweetheart, but it being based of untrue insecurities is absolutely unacceptable." I put her bras and underwear into the duffel bag before stacking some hoodies on top.

I walked to her, touching her arms, disliking the fabric keeping her skin from my hands.

"Do you understand me?" I whispered.

She looked up, dazed.

"I-I understand." I nodded.

I sighed, trying to behave myself. But her throat was aching to be grabbed at.

I turned myself around, zipping up her bag.

"Come on, let's go." I put it over my shoulder.

"It's not everything-"

"Honey we're not packing your whole room." I smiled.

She frowned.

"Hey, if there's anything you see, grab it, otherwise, I'll get the stuff you want for you. But I have someone waiting on us to go check out the house." I tried to get her to understand.

She walked to her nightstand, opening the drawer and pulled out a bag of caramel chocolates.

I laughed.

"Let's go." I nodded.

She walked over, to the door.

I walked out first, grabbing her hand when we walked through the house.

"Want to say bye?" I asked.

She shook her head no.

"Alright." I opened the front door with my free hand, opening the car door for her, she got inside when I shut it and went to put the bag in the trunk with the rest of my shit.

I got in, telling Toby to begin driving.

She stared out the window, eating the chocolates slowly.

I just watched her.

"Want one?" She asked when she caught me looking.

"I'm alright." I answered.

She gave me a weird look before looking back out the window but her gaze kept coming back to me, her body fully aware my eyes have been glued on her.

"Do I get my own room?" She asked and I laughed.

"Oh baby, no."