Owning Her

Chapter Three

I'm going to be doing significant editing, so please ignore any upload notifications unless you want to read the chapters now that they're fully edited.

"You know you are the worst," Luíza Morias said as she chucked a fry at Vivian. Vivian giggled as it bounced off her nose and landed in her lap. They sat in a bustling small cafe that was decorated in old-timey gothic regalia. Their chairs were small thrones, and every table had red, black, or purple cloth-lined mini thrones at them. Bold chandeliers in gold with bits of the paint flecking off lit up the room just enough to keep the customers awake. At each table, a plant was situated either on the surface or nearby without being in the way of traffic. Their current table had an ivy plant in the center whose tendrils had grown wildly off the table but controlled enough to span it like a natural runner over the blood-red tablecloth.

"How am I the worst this time?" Vivian asked as she plucked the fry off her suit pants and popped it in her mouth.

"You're living the dream," Luíza exclaimed as she grabbed her drink. "You've got a hot guy who makes a lot of money, he's really into some kinky shit, he pampers you and buys your clothes, and you don't have to ever ask for sex. It's just always right there."

Vivian laughed as her best friend crossed her light brown arms over her chest, causing her breasts to squish and touch her chin.

"Hey, it's not my fault he decided my customer service was so good that he had to break another device just to talk to me again." Luíza stuck out her tongue and tossed several pink and yellow braids over her shoulder. Vivian loved how Luíza changed out her braid colors with the seasons.

"Well, you said you wanted to talk about your recent punishment over lunch, so spill," Luíza demanded as Vivian bit into her turkey sandwich.

So Vivian did just that. She told Luíza everything, and by the time she finished, the little old ladies two tables away were leaning in to listen closer.

"Ugh," Luíza groaned. "The absolute worst."

After lunch, Vivian was heading back to her office when she got a text from her boss.

Sudden and urgent board meeting. Everyone is dismissed for the day.

Vivian smiled as she tucked her phone back into her purse. With a plan to spend the afternoon napping, she headed directly for her car. She even made sure to set her alarm for thirty minutes before Greyson would be off of work.

If traffic allowed, she could get in a good three hours once home.

"I feel like another hunt," Greyson said as a greeting when he pushed open the apartment door at precisely five-thirty that evening.

Vivian looked up from where she knelt on her pink pillow as excitement buzzed underneath her skin.

"That sounds fun, Sir," she replied.

Greyson smiled, causing his rare dimples to show on his golden cheeks.

"Dinner first, and then we go play," he added as he strode past her into the kitchen. Vivian remained on her knees as he started to dig out what he needed for dinner. Greyson rarely cooked, but when he did, she usually serviced him.

She loved to cook in that kitchen, which was colored similarly to the living room but with more notes of Vivian in the room than anywhere else in the house save for her bedroom. Amongst all the creams, browns, and whites of the appliances, counters, and cabinets were bits of cottage core stuff—a mushroom-shaped spoon rest laid on the stovetop. Frog-shaped salt and pepper shakers sat next to the stove. A bowl shaped like the sliced open cap of a toadstool held fruits on the bar counter. And a bunch of flower-shaped stools crowded along the massive bartop counter.