Date Night on Peek Street

Nayeli

Tables are for eating. Not for pretty girls who look good enough to eat from. If my parents knew I was using the dining room table in this way, they wouldn’t be pleased. But oh, how it pleases me. No one warned me about how good it would feel or how sweet it would taste. Not to mention the sounds coming from her or the sheer visual of her laid out in front of me. 

It’s delicious. 

And it’s not supposed to be happening at all. 

One post. 

I submitted it last year, too, with very little results. Or rather, with very little promise. 

The women who replied to that post were nothing like her. Few could compete with that flirty apron-skirt combo many of the Links wear. Hers is pink today. I’ve seen a few others that are red, and even less, white. It’s all to go with the theme. 

Hotel BED is celebrating Valentine’s Day. 

It’s how we got into this predicament in the first place. How she ended up on my table with her panties pushed to the side and her stomach covered in chocolate syrup. Traces of the vanilla ice cream still drip from her body. 

I put it there. But only after she did it first. 

Not that I can blame her for this. She’s just a Link, a cog in Chasity’s machine to make sure that things get done around here. The hotel has grown since it opened. It’s been all hands on deck for months. 

The Link decorated my house for me. She did a good job, too. House 5683, on Peek Street, is filled to the brim with red roses, scattered petals and burning candles. I even had a fancy meal delivery scheduled. However, it looks like I won’t be needing it anymore. 

The tip of my tongue clears a path up her belly. Her stomach jumps as she tries in vain to control her breathing. It makes me smile. She was so sure when she bit into that cherry I was holding. It was unexpected and made the forbidden thoughts I was already having even more tempting. 

After she finished eating the first one, I fed her another. We moved from cherries to raspberries to grapes. Frozen, just the way I like them. She didn’t complain like the others. She savored the chill. She moaned when the juice finally broke through the iciness in her warm mouth. She licked my icy fingers until they were warm. There was nothing on them. That’s the point of frozen fruit. Less mess. She did it anyway. I can still feel her tongue wrapping around my fingers. She sucked them in and then slowly pulled them out. Only to do it all over again. 

Still, I kept my composure and, even better, my professionalism. 

I designed the silver chain that dangles from her neck. I branded her before I met her. Claimed her. If time had this purpose in mind, I can’t be upset. The key that hangs from it lies snug in the valley of her breasts. It’s a beautiful contrast against her brown skin. Though something tells me, her skin would be better complemented with gold.

It has nothing to do with the glorious view of the yellow mango she has securely placed between her lips. She sucked it in so sweetly. I bit into the first one while she held the end with her teeth. We were standing then with her back against the edge of the table. When our lips met, she fell. Gently, of course. She’s too dedicated to her job to ruin her hard work. She carefully grips the red tablecloth in her fists, even now. 

She’s such a good girl. 

No, it’s not the mango. 

It’s the way my heart soared when I opened the door and saw her standing there. So unexpected. I have probably seen dozens of Links by now. They’re easy to miss, so you can forget them later. But not her. There’s no way. Her smile calmed my brewing anger about this day arriving again. It is hell. Or at least it was. 

Gold is what I saw every time she shook her head as a signal that my potential suitors weren’t worth my time. Even for one night. 

She was right. 

When they left, she did everything they couldn’t. She swirled the whipped cream into the perfect shape. She drizzled the syrup inside of the bowl, never grazing the edge. And she not only ate from me. She fed me. 

Having an attraction to food and the way my partner eats is difficult to manage alone. I don’t get turned on by feeding myself. It’s being fed and providing the meal that does it for me. 

And I don’t eat from anyone. 

A girl should have standards about where she gets her food. Amora has been the perfect platter. 

Although it goes against Peek Street’s purpose, there is no one else here to see her. Closed curtains mean the same as having the porch light turned off on Halloween. No candy. No view. Experience canceled. I want her all to myself. No matter how temporary. 

“You’re doing such a good job,” I say to her and watch her hips rise in response. Her clit’s been searching for the friction of her panties since I’ve moved them. 

My lips are only centimeters from her pussy, having spoken directly into it to pay her the compliment. I devour the sight of her muscles clenching and her anticipation oozing out to greet me. It would be easy to end this here. Her body will thank me for it, quake against my face as she shivers in enjoyment. I know it. She’s shown me how adventurous she can be. How willing she is to try new things. I doubt that before today she had ever thought of the pleasures that come along with the savoring of the smell, taste and feel of a piece of fruit. 

I rise from my position and round the table to her side. Her eyes follow me. I love I became her priority from the moment she held out her hand and my name rolled from her tongue and through her full, pink-painted lips. “It’s nice to meet you, Nayeli.” The pink is now only stained on her lips and they taste like mango. Though later, they may taste like me. 

I bend to dance my tongue around her dark nipple. Her moan struggles through her throat. The sweetness of the whipped cream that covered them melts into my taste buds. She did it herself. I swear. It was one of the most remarkable things I have ever witnessed. After she laid down on the table, she reached for the canister. Only a little sprayed onto her fingers, but by that time, I didn’t care. I had already found perfection. After the whipped cream, she dripped the ice cream onto her stomach and then drizzled the chocolate. 

She watched me while I cleaned it up. Her eyes fluttered close at the feeling of my tongue traveling over her smooth skin. This is the fourth time I’ve sucked her breasts into my mouth. They fit perfectly. They fill my cheeks just right and the pop her skin sings after I’ve released them makes my pussy tingle in urgency. 

My lips wrap around hers and I suck in the last piece of the mango. The muscles in her jaw rest as she chews. Her tongue stretches across her bottom lip before her teeth sink into it. 

“Another.” 

I do as I’m told and press my lips down onto hers. The sweet taste of mango trickles into my mouth. Her hands hold me in place. Her signature lace top was discarded earlier. It was in the way. I release her and watch her rise. She slides down at the end of the table. Her boots hit the ground with a thud. I try not to stare at the way her breasts move. They were just here, presented before me to do with as I pleased. There’s no reason for me to be jealous or feel the tinge of grief that has sucked its way into my chest. 

Amora unties the back of the apron and I watch as it falls to the floor. My eyes follow the way her thumbs hook inside of the waistband of her skirt. 

“You’re still dressed.” Our eyes meet and I nod. “Do you want me to get dressed?” I shake my head at her ridiculous question and watch her lips spread into a smile. It was blinding the first time. Now it just captivates me. 

She slides her thumbs from her skirt and moves to the other side of the kitchen. Amora plucks a single red cherry from the bowl on the counter. She steadies it in the air between us, holding its stem. My lips part to fully kiss the skin of the cherry being offered to me. Once nestled into its new home, Amora tugs. I lightly suck to pull it back in. As we play our game, Amora’s eyes move from my lips to my eyes, inching closer. My gaze never leaves her face. Although each thrust does nothing to decrease the coldness that seeps past my lips, the outer layer of the cherry is warmer and sleeker. 

“Bite.” I follow Amora’s command and pierce the butt of the cherry with my teeth. The juice of it slowly trickles into my mouth as it defrosts. I chew slowly, knowing she’ll want me to. She continues to watch me while I do. When I’m done, she feeds me another. 

We move from cherries to raspberries. The small berry leaves no room for separation. When my mouth opens to suck it in, her fingers come with it. She doesn’t pull away. My once repressed sounds vibrate from me to her. I release only to accept another. Her fingers retreat only after I moan in gratitude.

My reaction to her intensifies with her words, “I bet you taste just as good.”

Amora

Nayeli’s dark brown eyes shift away from mine. I hook my fingers into the empty belt loop of her jeans to steady her as her feet shuffle backward. 

“Hey,” I whisper. “Don’t look back. We’re not going that way.” A burst of excitement burns in her eyes. I noticed it for the first time when my fingers trailed over the bowl of fruit. She had just been sitting there, drumming her fingers across her jeans in anxiousness. That made me angry. None of them could tell how nervous she was. Her face fell every time they rejected her offerings. I sat next to her, hoping it would help to soothe her disappointment. I took the fruit on instinct and was surprised when her eyes followed it until it disappeared behind my lips. 

Something about her watching me eat sparked something new inside of me. I wanted to please her. I wanted to make her happy. They had saddened and dissatisfied her. I wouldn’t do the same. The moan that rolled up from my belly was not intentional. Neither was how far back into my mouth I placed the next cherry or how long it took for me to pull my fingers free.

That’s when she fed me. After she was satisfied with my first few bites, she slid one hand underneath my apron. The other placed a chilled slice of mango against my lips. The tip of the mango slipped inside at the same time her hand found my soaked panties. 

I tried. I did. For over a year, I’ve been successful at keeping work and sex separate. If my brain could remember more than just pleasure in this moment, it would recite a passage from the employee manual on what not to do.

Do not suck a member's fingers into your mouth. 

Do not use your tongue to taste the small frozen drops of fruit that they’ve fed to you. 

Do not…Do not…Do not….

With Nayeli’s fingers pressed firmly against my soaked panties, I didn’t recall any of them. 

I’ve only just met her today, and now I can’t imagine being touched by anyone else. The gold tier status that affords her the ability to book an experience like this on Peek Street is the same one that keeps us apart. There are protocols. And we’re breaking them. This is a hotel designed for sex and with that comes responsibility. As a member of the highest tier, Nayeli has more power than me. I’m just a Link. Not that she has taken advantage. I fed her and fed from her willingly and I plan to do it again. 

Her feet shuffle forward when I tug on the jeans that have been mesmerizing me all day. There is something about the fullness of a woman that captivates me. I don’t feel the same about the men I’m attracted to, but give me a woman with curvy hips, thick thighs and more to sink my teeth into and I salivate.

As a Link, I’m surrounded by sex, but am prohibited from partaking in any of it without a personal invite from a member, and even then, there are rules. From the moment she walked through the door, all I could do was try not to lick my lips at the sight of her bare shoulders. The way her jeans squeeze her waist right below the space left by her cropped top is sickening. Maddening. 

I’ve never felt this level of thirst in all my queer life. 

I grab the honey dispenser and balance the dipper between my fingers in one hand. She won’t disappear if I let go, but I’ll miss her. 

The candlelight casts our shadows on the walls up the stairs and through the hallway. I did good. Decorating is one of the favorite parts of my job, when I’m able to do it. Links are versatile. We have to be. I can just as well craft a bouquet as I can shut down an unauthorized orgy. 

I don’t know what the honey dispenser is for. I was clueless when I unpacked it from the cart and set it out on the counter as a cute decorative touch. Now that I know what Nayeli likes, I know it’s not meant for viewing, but for experiencing. 

I place the dispenser on the end table closest to the door. I step far enough into the room to gently nudge Nayeli to sit on the edge of the bed. She does so with a pursed smile that crinkles her lips. Traces of her red lipstick, smudged at the corners, are still visible. 

I release the loop of her jeans to run my hands down her shoulders. At my touch, she jumps, closes her eyes and moans. I kiss from her shoulders to her collarbone, giving each side the attention that they deserve. 

“You’re so beautiful,” I say in between firm kisses. Our brown skins aren’t the same tone, but they meld beautifully together. Hers shine in the flickers of light that dance across the room. 

“Show me. Please.” I want to know all of it. I want to do everything she wants me to do and more. 

Nayeli stands. Her arms raise over her head while she pulls her shirt from her body. It lands somewhere on the floor, no longer important. It was only hiding her from me. I didn’t know I would feel relief in its absence until it was gone. She does the same to her jeans, though this loss is harder for me. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from drooling. 

I remove her panties with my teeth, slowly kneeling on the floor until my body is bent into a low enough bow for her to step out of. It’s the type of service she deserves. 

Nayeli walks over to the dresser drawer to retrieve a mask. Still kneeling, I close my eyes while she slides it over my head. 

“Count to twenty and then climb up onto the bed. If you do a good job of using your senses, you’ll find exactly what I’ve left for you.” 

I feel the loss of her presence instantly.

One. Two. Three.  

Then the sound of the mattress creaking. 

Four. Five. Six.

Something scrapes against wood. 

Seven. Eight. Nine. 

The room is quiet. 

Ten. Eleven, Twelve. Thirteen. 

The sound of Nayeli’s body shuffling. Making room for me, I think. 

Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. 

Something heavy slides across something else. 

Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. 

I use my hands to grip the bedpost and pull me from my position. My palm settles on the bottom of the comforter immediately. I crawl forward. It doesn’t take long for my hand to reach Nayeli’s thigh. She giggles. My lips travel up between her thighs. She squirms through my entire journey. Ticklish, I see. It’s another Nayeli fact I store in my head. I don’t know what I’ll do with it later, or if I’ll ever have another opportunity, but at this moment it feels like valuable information to keep close to my heart. 

The closer I get, the more I salivate at the smell of her. I am more than prepared to savor the taste of this meal. I’ve trained for it. All in one afternoon. Fine hairs graze my cheeks and chin the closer I get. I flick out my tongue only to meet soft, but solid skin, and not the well of nectar that I was expecting. 

“That’s not where your treat is.” Nayeli’s voice waves out above me. “At least, not yet.” I lick, anyway, to change her mind about where she may have hidden my treasure. She only giggles more. 

“Amora, baby, use your senses, love.” Her verbal affection sends my pussy senses into overdrive. My muscles clench and my hips twist in yearning. I straighten my back a little. If I had access to my sight, I could see all of her from this position. Since I don’t, I reach back my hands to the tips of her toes. They wiggle at the contact. I can only smile. Slowly, I move my wrist up her leg, right above her bone. My fingers sweep across her knees and melt into a puddle. I place each sticky finger to my lips and lick. The sweetness from the honey engulfs my taste buds. 

I suck them clean. When there’s no trace left, I bend my neck to where I think she’s watching me. “I found it, my love.” Returning her term of endearment feels special and when she laughs and her hand reaches up to caress my cheek. I press my skin deeper into her palm. 

“There’s more where that came from.” 

I search for the rest with my tongue. The small drops of honey lead up her thighs, around her hips and across her belly. The pattern she painted there with the help of the honey dipper remains a visual mystery, but it takes me on a journey of pure delightful sweetness and euphoria. 

I have never known the simple taste of someone could fill me with such joy. My craving feels never-ending. My appetite, ravenous.

The path leads me past Nayeli’s breasts, where drops of honey cover her nipples, up to her collarbone. I nip at her bare shoulders with my teeth and then follow the line of her collarbone, covered in thick, gold nectar. My lips kiss the drops that are then swept away by my tongue. Down a tight line to the middle of her breasts and back up again. By the end, she wears a necklace of my gratitude that will only be visible to me. 

As I’ve made my ascent, my hips have only risen enough to settle on Nayeli’s. Her grip around me has only motivated me to go slower. She squeezes when I move too fast and praises me when I follow her instructions. “That’s right, my love. Taste me.” I do it through shaky breaths. The honey isn’t thick enough to stifle my moans or prevent the air from my lungs from escaping. There’s not enough to keep my hips from grinding into her, my pleasure assisted by the panties I’ve worn the entire time she’s been teaching me. They’re more than suitable for the job with the amount of moisture they’ve been attempting to help me conceal. 

Nayeli pushes them aside the same as she did earlier. Except this time, two perfect fingers spread through the sleekness and when I open my thighs to greet her, she enters without resistance. This time when she squeezes my hips, it’s to join in the rhythm of my movement. 

“How does that feel, love?” Her voice comes from below me in a rushed whisper. 

“Fucking perfect!” I shout.

“How else, baby? Feel.” The muscles in my pussy clench every time she pumps inside of me and relaxes when she retreats. But only a little. The pressure against my clit is a mixture of both pleasure and pain. It’s always been sensitive. I’ve asked past partners to avoid it, but with Nayeli, the thought never crossed my mind. 

I focus on the feel of Nayeli’s rhythm inside of me and how it matches my racing heartbeat. I pull back when I can no longer take the cravings. Losing her is only temporary. I shuffle backward until my hands tell me I’ve found the right place to lift. My neck bends into the perfect position for all of my senses to take advantage. Her sweet smell. The slickness of her aroused lips greeting my tongue before diving into her. I feel her tiny hole make room for my tongue and her nails scratch against my scalp. My name sings out of her mouth and motivates me to suck harder and longer while she shakes. 

While she feeds me. 

Nayeli. 

My favorite treat.

Nayeli

My knuckles burn against the black double doors. They’re not the same as the others that serve as an entrance into the stores, including mine. The entry to Chasity’s suite is nondescript. You wouldn’t know where to find them unless you had a purpose here. And while I don’t have a late-night appointment, my purpose is clear. 

“Chasity, please.” I alternate the burning knuckles on each hand with every knock. I started pleading after the second set. We need to speak before uncertainty sets in. I called and didn’t receive an answer. I texted with no response. 

One door quickly opens mid-knock. Chastity stands there in a robe and tired eyes. Her head leans to settle on the frame. 

“I was this close to calling security on you.” The two fingers she places an inch from my face fall to her side. “What do you want, Nayeli?”

I’ve never been so happy to have her attention. Even as Hotel BED’s CEO, I’ve always seen Chasity and me as equals. I was born into my wealth and she was …welcomed into hers. 

“I’m moving out.” 

Chastity’s head rockets from its position. She’s suddenly wide awake with bright eyes and a determined look on her face. 

“Excuse me?” She grabs my tired wrist and pulls me inside. “What are you talking about?” 

“What we’ve always talked about. It worked.” Chastity settles me on the couch and retrieves two water bottles from the fridge. I accept mine and watch her sip hers with her eyes peering over the side, staring at me. 

“You met someone?” she asks, twisting the cap back on. 

“Yup, and since that was always the plan, it’s time for me to go.” 

“Go where? You’re both members here. Where on earth are you trying to go?”

Chastity’s look of confusion is valid. BED is the place where couples come to play. Typically, if you meet someone here, you stay. That’s the point. 

“What about the store? You don’t get to screw me just because you’re screwing someone else.”

Ah, there she is. My comments about Chasity’s selfishness have mostly fallen on deaf ears. Most people are dismissive about it, but it never fails to rear its ugly head on such a pretty face. 

“Can’t you just be happy for me?” I throw my hands up. The unopened water bottle shakes in my grip. 

“At my expense?” Chastity’s hand flies to her chest. “Absolutely not.” She sits on the other side of the couch and drinks more water, never easing the look of disrespect from her face.

“I’m not trying to abandon you. I just…we can’t both be here at the same time.” 

Chastity uses the emptying water bottle to tap at her temple. I can barely make out her eyes shifting around the room. “Who is she?” 

“I don’t wanna say.” 

“Did you break any rules?”

“Yes, all the ones about fucking.” I twist off the cap of the water bottle and take my first sip. 

“You fucked an employee and now you’re leaving, so that I don’t fire her?” Chastity emphasizes each word with a point of her finger. I nod. Maybe if we had met at a different time, it wouldn’t have to end this way. Amora doesn’t deserve to face the harsh consequences of such a beautiful night.

“But you want to keep her?” 

“Do you have to say it like that?” 

Some see hotel BED employees as background actors. They do everything to make sure that the people get what they want, but they’re not props or property. 

Chastity shrugs. “If you want to keep her, then upgrade her. On your dime. I’ve depleted my allotted charity memberships.”

“Really? I didn’t realize that was an option for Links.” The thought never even crossed my mind. 

“Oh, so she’s a Link, huh? Interesting. Links aren’t any different from any of the other employees, though never as ambitious. Maybe that’ll change after today.”

I hate the way she refers to Amora as ambitious as if she planned this from the beginning. Some employees indeed make it their mission to snag a member for an elevation of tier status, but Amora isn’t like that. 

“I want to keep her.”

“Good!” Chastity’s hands clap against the water bottle. “Bring her to my office at a reasonable time to sign paperwork. Then return to a logical frame of mind.” Chastity flashes me a beauty queen smile while pulling me from my position and pushing me toward the door. 

“The Link…” I turn to face her once out in the hallway. Her once-tired eyes now look full of worry. “It’s not Trice, is it?” 

I frown and shake my head. I know of Trice. She’s the Link that skips down the hallway and almost always has a smile on her face. She rarely works out of stores. When I see her, she’s mostly providing member care or running errands for the managers.   

Chastity’s smile returns to her lips. Her eyes brighten. She takes a deep breath and then releases it. “Good. If she ever fucks up, then we’re all in trouble.”

Amora

I flip through the day's announcements and don’t see a single post that looks like hers. I don’t know what I was expecting, but apparently, we weren’t on the same page. 

“Are you looking for that sad member? The one with the Valentine’s post every year? I walked down Peek Street last night and it looks like she might’ve found someone. Curtains were drawn though. Couldn’t see anything. I think some members complained about it,” Ashley, my co-worker, says, glancing at the screen of my cell phone and then back at hers.

“Don’t call her sad.” I push her shoulder with mine and watch her sway to the side before she steadies again. “What she did was very brave.” Ashley’s eyebrows rise and then lower into a crease that wrinkles her forehead. “Think about it. Everyone expects you to either be rich or in some kind of partnership. She openly expressed she was looking for companionship on Valentine’s Day.” I wrap my arms around my chest and squeeze. “It’s romantic.” Except maybe I wasn’t who she was looking for. 

Ashley rises to her feet at the sight of Melissa entering the room. I grab onto the hand she holds out and pull up to stand beside her. Despite the empty chairs that are available in the meeting room, we always sit on the floor. I dust off the bottom of my black apron and do the same for Ashley. 

“Listen up, everyone.” Melissa swats the piece of paper in her hand against the palm of the other. “Valentine’s Day is over. We have a massive clean-up to do. We need all hands on deck. Do you understand?” We all nod in unison. 

“First,” Melissa flips to the next page of her list. “Let’s get through department assignments. Rachel to Embrace. Kevin to the Academy. Willow to Clique. Neem to Mosaic. Trice to Masque. Reigna to Elixir. Sevyn to Pour. Yoyo to Opulent.” 

Melissa takes a deep breath, flips the page, exhales and begins again. “Amora.” She pauses. “To the boss.” Ashley’s shoulders stiffen next to mine. I release the breath that caught in my lungs at the look on Melissa’s face. Sorrow.  

“Did you do something?” Ashley’s eyes search mine. I stare down at my cell phone, now just a black screen. “She’s not sad. She’s beautiful.” I pull Ashley in for a hug and wiggle my fingers goodbye. Her frozen posture allows me to step around her and follow the group out into the hallway. I absorb everything during my walk. I like the classical music that drifts from the speakers. The carpet not only looks luxurious. Every spot you step on feels like a cloud.

I’ll miss the busy members who walk by me, even if I haven’t met them yet. I return the smiles of passing employees. The email they receive about me will be vague. They always are. We wish her the best in her future endeavors, they always say. I don’t know what my future looks like, but I’ll figure it out. 

The door to Chasity’s office is open when I arrive. Nayeli is standing instead of sitting in the two chairs in front of the desk. I divert my attention to the change in carpet colors at the threshold. There were no expectations after our night together. We both knew we couldn’t continue. I tried to be as careful as I could when leaving, but somehow I messed up. Covert operations aren’t my expertise. 

“I hope the cleaners didn’t leave a spot there.” Chasity stands to lean over the desk and stare at the area I preoccupied my eyes with. She laughs when she sees nothing and looks up at me. Chasity Coleman doesn’t have a dark reputation. She has a firm one. We don’t fear her. We know not to cross her. It’s those below her we’re the most afraid of. 

“Ready?” Chasity takes a seat and so do I. Nayeli is wearing another top that doesn’t cover her shoulders and I wonder if she has a closet full of them. If I’m reprimanded instead of fired, maybe my punishment will be me having to watch her walk around, teasing me. 

Nayeli places her hand on my lap and folds her hand in mine. I look up at her in alarm. A glance at Chasity says she’s watching us…and smiling. 

“Amora.” I bring my full attention to Nayeli and feel the way the corners of my lips twitch. My tongue involuntarily moistens them when my eyes drop to hers. 

She smiles. 

“Last night was one of the best nights of my life. It was everything I imagined it to be. And I can’t imagine having another night like that with anyone else.” My gaze follows hers to her knees where a large square jewelry box sits. She releases my hand to open it. Inside lies a gold chain, gold key and silver pendant. I lean forward and run my fingers across the jewelry. “We can change the pendant if you want,” she says, referencing my employee identification. “It’s just…I know you like working here.” 

“I love it.” My eyes find Chasity still smiling “I’d like to stay, if I can.” Chasity taps a pen against a small stack of papers in front of her. “If you agree by signing this paperwork, you can do whatever you want.” The smile drops from her lips. “Almost.” 

 We all laugh. Nayeli replaces the silver with the gold. The new jewelry feels cold against my skin. It reminds me of ice. Nayeli whispered in my ear about it last night, but we were both too exhausted to try it after several hours of fruit, syrup and honey. She presses her lips against mine and I swear I can still taste some of it. 

I want to taste it forever. 

I loop my name across the dotted lines and initial where I’m supposed to. We agree on our Significant terms. The title alone sends shivers down my spine. My Significant. Mine. 

Sometimes Nayeli has to travel, but there are no trips on Valentine’s Day. That day will always only be reserved for us, in the same place we met. We agree to at least have some of our night on display for viewers. Ashley wasn’t lying about the complaints. 

In the end, we walk away hand in hand. My silver pendant now gives me access to her suite as her Significant and not as her daily assistant. When I sign out from work, I ride the elevator to our new home. We will wake up together, eat dinner together and fill each other up with our senses, one piece of fruit at a time.

Nayeli turns to me while she organizes the display cases in her shop. I won’t be assigned here every day, but Chasity thought it would be nice for us to spend the day together.

“What did you say?” I ask, after temporarily losing consciousness at the sight of her. My Significant. 

“Thank you for being my valentine, my love.” 

“Always, my Significant,” I say as she kisses me.