“Upgrade?”

“Mhmm. I’m special to you, right?”

“Damn, right.”

“And I come first?”

“Always.”

“Well, princesses are still beholden to someone even if they’re spoiled or pampered.” Hoping my gut’s right, I lightly cup my hand beneath his jaw. Even with the light constriction, he stills, eyes locking with mine. “You don’t intend to harm me?”

“Never.”

“Or control me?”

“No. I should’ve never taken you, but what you want goes from this point on.”

“But princess implies that you still have authority over me. I need a name that reminds me every time I hear it that I have the final say.” Untucking myself, I press the heel of my foot to his thigh just to see what he’d do. Like the wise man he is, Angel widens his legs. “I need to know that you fall to your knees for me, and only me, anytime and every time I ask. That everything you do, you for me. I want to know that I own you,” I whisper. “And only one name fits that, hmm?”

“You’re right, Princess isn’t enough. Not for an Empress.” Feeling empowered just from the name alone, I grip a little tighter, wordlessly telling him to stay still as I move closer. 

***

“Open your mouth.” He does, eyes tracking me as I lift my other hand. I trace the edges of his lips. “Clean it.”

His tongue tickles as he laps my pointer and middle fingers, eventually using it to guide me into his mouth. I add another finger, and he takes it without complaint. I can feel drool start to drip down my palm, but I kind of like it. Testing his willingness, I press into his mouth further. He doesn’t gag and, worse, starts to bob until all my knuckles have made it past his lips. Angel's eyes begin to get a little glazed, and I love the way he tries to subtly shiver. 

I hold back the derogatory names that bubble up in my brain, unsure if that’s something he’s into. But if I knew for sure and he was, I’d definitely call him a bitch-boy or a cock craving slut. I bet he would look nice choking on a toy with how he’s beginning to make some noise.

Instead of going with the flow, I decided to be responsible. (We are outside, and I don't know how nosy his neighbors are.) It's such a bummer breaking the spell by tapping his throat. His eyes open, pupils contracting, but they slowly widen as I brush my thumb under his ear affectionately. 

“You did so good, Angel,” I whisper. 

I slowly retract my fingers, tickled as he chases slightly, and quickly let my tongue replace them. 

***

We kissed until whatever I stirred up settled, my hand running up and down his chest as I made little pleased hums into his mouth. I drew back when I felt the last bit of tension morph back into something lighter. I have fun planting several kisses on the corners of his lips and whatever else I can reach. 

Angel closes his eyes, embarrassment pinking his cheeks. 

“Can’t wait for that sit-down.” We both know I’m referring to a contract.

“Keisha.” The man is clearly trying to look stern with his furrowed brows but I'm feeling immune. 

“It’s Empress,” I sing.

“Un-uh. Princess is for every day. Empress for…” he fades off, this time the flush reaching his ears.

“For what,” I ask innocently.

“You’ve never even-“

“I’ve read plenty. I can learn. And I will.” 

“Then you’ll have to learn that sometimes you're going to get what you need, not what you want,” he says with a pointed look that makes me want to squirm. 

“So you can just flip-flop, huh?”

“When it’s needed.”

“Oh, and when do you know?”

“When you get too big for your britches,” he warns, hand sliding over my ass like he was preparing to smack me. I don’t mind one bit.

“Oh, old saying for an old man." I feel him squeeze in one final warning and decide to change directions. "And how will I know if I go too far? Too bratty?”

“We’ll discuss it later when we’ve cooled off and thought about what we want going forward.”

“Tomorrow?”

“No, Princess. We shouldn’t have done this, and I most certainly shouldn’t have done...that with you last night?”

“Why not? I wanted it. I asked.”

“You’ve been awake for a day. A lot has changed, and I don’t want you calming down later and feeling icky and used.”

I want to beat my head against the siding. 

“And when do you think that’ll be?”

“When you’ve had the chance to choose to stay here.”

For a moment, I say nothing; the birds and music from his wind chimes fill the silence. 

“What do you mean ‘choose to stay here?’”

“I brought you here to get you away from your family and shitty job. But I don’t want you to stay because you’re indebted to me.”

“You do realize you sound like Beauty and the Beast. What are you going to do? Let me go if I seem unhappy,” I joke. But he doesn’t laugh.

“Yes.”

I fully sit up, my spine locking as the word reverberates around my head.

“You’d let me go right now? With no fight?”

“Yes.”

I look away from him, staring off into the backyard I hadn't really paid attention to. It's a blank canvas with its plain Kentucky bluegrass. I try to calm myself by thinking about landscaping projects I could feasibly pull off. Still, they begin to amplify the thoughts I'm so desperately trying to keep at bay. 

Why would he do that?

They always let you go without a fight.

“I thought you loved me.”

“If you really love someone, you shouldn’t take their choices away. I’m being selfish doing all of this. Thinking I know what’s best for you and trying to manage your life…that’s nothing but a recipe for you hating me.” His shoulders sag like he’s bracing for the weight of the world. What he needs to be worried about is the growing pain in my chest.

“Angel. I’m missing work, which means I’m probably fired. I’m also probably considered a missing person. My brother and mother have likely maxed out my cards and ran through my savings stash, and you want to consider ethics now?”

“I can give you money and set you up."

“That’s not the fucking point,” I hiss. I flinch when I hear his neighbor slide open their back door. I continue, voice even lower as I poke his chest angrily. “The whole fantasy of getting kidnapped is that me, the kidnappee, is isolated from real life and its consequences. The power you have over me also provides and protects me from everyone else. It’s supposed to be you and I against the world. That’s what makes it special!” 

I know what I’m saying doesn’t make sense if Angel’s outstretched hands and soft mhmming is anything to go by. 

“I know, baby. That’s also what makes it fragile. You'll be fragile in the long run." 

'I already am,' I want to scream. 

"I wanted to give you a break from having to bear the world on your own.”

“A break?”

From how he freezes, Angel knows what he’s admitted. 

He was never going to keep you.

“A br…Oh my god, I’m so fucking stupid. This is a temporary arrangement for you. That is so fucked, Angel,” I rasp, my throat hurting as the familiar ache of tears swells on top of my lingering soreness. I can’t stand the feel of his touch right now, climbing back to the other end of the couch before I hit him.

“Keisha, that didn’t come out right! I want you by my side, I want you to give us a chance, but if you’re happy elsewhere after our trial period…I always look out for you, regardless.”

Trial period? 

He has a job lined up.

He’s going to leave you when it’s time.

“Angel, when is your next contract?”

“My contracts are usually just three months,” he deflects. “Sometimes six. I do pick out shorter assignments when I feel like it, but everything, regardless of length, is carefully planned in advance so I can plan out housing, vacations, and visiting family. Depending on the location, I try to take the RV and hook up my car to the back.”

“When is your next contract?”

“It’s an awful lot of moving around,” Angel still doesn’t answer. 

“Angel Hernandez, when. Is. Your next. Con-tract?”

“Four weeks. Up in Arizona.”

“Oh my god.” I feel dizzy. 

“I understand if that’s too much for you to come or stay behind when the time comes,” he continues, my stomach twisting itself over and over now. “I have money set aside for you and a property I own in Charlotte you can-

“Shut. Up,” I growl, standing up. 

“I didn’t mean to make your life harder,” Angel tries to convince me, but even his voice makes my head pound worse. 

“Stop.”

“I didn’t think-

“Of fucking course, you didn’t think. You’re such a fucking guy,” I cry. Knowing my control is leaving fast, I make for the back door and into the kitchen. As I pass the sink, he catches up.

Angel stupidly reaches out to me, but I swat his hand away. “Don’t touch me,” I practically spit. But the tears betray me. 

“I don't want you miserable, baby.”

“Then what's the point of giving us a taste of life with you if that's not the case?”

“Keisha I-

Before my tongue gets the better of me, I back up again.

“Leave me alone!”