Thank you for the cookies. The tiramisu is in the fridge if you want some. - D
Translation:Break in again. Stuff your face. Moan for me.
This man is courting me through pastry-based consent.
I stare at the note.
Read it again.
The tiramisu is in the fridge.
He made me tiramisu.
Dario Marchetti, alleged crime family member, owner of an extremely organized closet, made me tiramisu.
I open the fridge with hands that aren’t quite steady.
It’s there. A glass dish with layers of coffee-soaked ladyfingers and mascarpone cream. Dusted with cocoa powder. Beautiful. Clearly homemade.
I get a spoon from the drawer, second drawer on the left, I remember from last time, I remember everything, that’s my whole problem, and take a bite standing at the counter like a goblin who’s forgotten how chairs work.
It’s perfect.
Rich. Decadent. Coffee-bitten and soaked in cream like a fucking love letter written in flavor.
I moan. My entire moral compass derailed by dessert.
I eat three more bites before I make myself stop.
Then I set down the spoon. And I explore.
There’s another note on the coffee table. Sitting next to his cologne bottle.
Wear this when you touch yourself.
I read it. Read it again.
My fight-or-flight response malfunctions and gets replaced by the urge to lick the note.
He saw me in his closet. Me with his tie. Me pressing my mouth to his mug like it might kiss back.
And instead of locking his doors, he left me a bossy sex note.
We’re having a conversation across space and time.
I’m being dommed through polite calligraphy by a man with at least two offshore accounts and a known body count.
Why is this the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me?
This is the most emotionally fulfilling relationship I’ve had in a decade and I initiated it with cookies and criminal trespassing.
Hallmark couldnever.
I pick up the cologne. Don’t spray it this time. Just hold it. Like a pervert. Like a woman who wants to crawl into this man’s pores and hibernate until mating season.
Then I slip it in my pocket and head upstairs.
His bedroom door is open.
