Devilena

Chapter 3- When She Packs

Unedited: A bitch (me) is tired 

"Have I ever mentioned how great your tits are Vicky" Nick swooned ogling my D cups that were tastefully spilling through my V neck. I learned years ago that my boobs had a mind of their own and allowed them to do their thing restraining them on days when I didn't have to be out would probably make them rebel against me.

"Yes you have, nearly 100 times now why are you at my door Nick? ran out of pussy for the day or you traveled all this way to see my tits?"

"In my defense they are great tits" he smiled and pushed open the door to ambush me with a hug strategically nuzzling his face between my boobs, resting his head there with a sigh "I love women" he mumbled.

I couldn't help but smile at his childish antics. Over the years of knowing Nick I sort of cut him some slack when it came to him harmlessly feeling on me every now and again. He just loved my breasts and butt and he marveled over them as if they were sculpted pieces of art. 

He meant absolutely nothing by it and could go on rants all day about how he will not allow my 'voluptuousness' to let him go against his duty as a 'best friend' but the least he could do was show appreciation every now and again.

"How are my babies are they okay?" Nick questioned still nuzzled in between my breasts giving no indication that he will be leaving anytime soon.

"Please stop talking about my butt cheeks like they're your children" I replied.

With that he shot up from between my boobs and attempted to spin me around which only lead to me grabbing his arm and flipping him over effortlessly. He sputtered in pain and gasped several times while staring up at me in disbelief.

"Vixen what the fuck was that"

"You moved too suddenly, its a reflex" I shrugged.

"Sometimes I forget that you're a murderer" he mumbled.

I swiftly pulled the gun that was wedged in the back of my shorts and aimed it between his eyes "Need a reminder? Stacy has been sad lately"

"Dear God please put away the fucking gun! Does this job have you so riled up that you're pulling out guns at everything now?" 

"Well not everything and I'm not riled up"

"Really? you're clutching that gun handle awfully tight though"

"Shut up" I said while switching off the safety. 

"Yes ma'am"

I shoved the gun back in its place in my shorts and started walking away "Come to the kitchen I made Alfredo"

"Hell fucking yes! Thank God! I've been itching to  have you cook for me again Betty Crocker the burned pancakes of a one night stand trying to win me over for a second round can only do so much, fill this hole in my heart culinary goddess!"

"Come get it before I throw it in the trash"

"Don't you dare!" 

I heard quick footsteps heading to the kitchen just as I began plating up the food and I placed the dish on the granite counter top that was surrounded by white revolving stools. 

"Hmm this is amazing Vicky if killing doesn't work out maybe you could pick up a side job as a chef" he joked "and don't you want a little colour in here everything is just so...white"

He was right when he said everything was white, I kinda thought of it as the closest I could come to being an angel. My penthouse was designed immaculately with thick white curtains at the glass windows overlooking the city, white couches, fluffy white rugs and glass and silver furniture that tied everything together.