BAYOU

complicated

Sugarplum's muscles were beyond fatigued, so fatigue they were entering the pins and needle stage. Within the next fifteen, no ten, they'd be completely numb. Fifteen minutes was far too ambitious.

How the hell had he managed to turn bed sheets into rope?

She was still in her dress from earlier, the one that shaped her so well it looked as if her rib cage disappeared, the one that had her breasts pushed up to her chin. This was no dress to do gymnastics in and yet, Angel had managed to bend her back without ripping a seam.

Clearly, she was underestimating him for the simple fact that his strength still managed to surprise her. Because ouch.

When he tied her up, he was speaking mindlessly.

Play me in my own establishment?

On a date with a fucking ugly ass gringo...

Didn't I tell you?

And whatever else he said was in Spanish.

She should've been scared, at least from the mere speed with which he tied her up, through her kicking and screaming, through his muttering.

If she was sane, she would be more than scared- frightened, terrified- but there was still that Stockholm Syndrome affection she had for him, even with the other girl in the chair, eyes darting from her to him with mild curiosity.

This other girl he brought, he said, to punish her. To make Sugarplum sit and watch and do nothing about, an eager stranger getting everything she was begging for. All ten or twelve or thirteen inches.

Sugarplum couldn't help but chuckle at that last part. "Why not make it twenty while you're at it."

"Got jokes, huh? Prolly should've tied you up tighter."

When he called the girl on the phone, he placed his hand over Sugarplum's mouth to prevent her from interrupting, (screaming,) and this girl, whoever she was, said quite plainly that she couldn't wait to have him inside of her. And he told her there'd be company and she said she didn't mind and that she'd be here in fifteen minutes.

"See how expendable you are?" Angel gave her a blinding smile, and her heart tripped. It was the easiest and most difficult thing, remembering how pretty he was.

"Fuck you. Forever."

Fourteen minutes and not a second later, the other girl arrived. Unfortunately, it seemed like there was no shortage of beautiful women in Atlanta.

The girl took a pause after Angel let her up oh so casually, he didn't bother to preface that Sugarplum was quite literally hog tied.

"Um- what did I just agree to?"

Angel shrugged. "Trust, she's been a bad, bad girl. Ignore her. She doesn't exist."

She raised an eyebrow but didn't question it.

Sugarplum gave her a pointed look. A help-me-sister look. A you-shouldn't-want-him-after-all-this look but the girl made no show of acknowledging her expression.

With the utmost chivalry, Angel escorted her to the chair directly in front of Sugarplum, and went off to sort through his records pensively, jaw clenched.

Woman to woman, she observed this third wheel questioningly. She had to be a special type of person to go through with this despite all the red flags.

The girl scrunched her nose in guilt and leaned forward in her seat, whispering. "Babe, apologies in advance if this is some sort of punishment, but I can't say that I'm sad to be involved. You have no idea how long I've been dreaming of being bent over this same bed." She pat the space in front of her. "Not here, of course. Definitely not directly in front of you. I'll try and be courteous of your situation." She made prayer hands. "Please don't hate me."