TWENTY-SECOND BIRTHDAY
Letter #95
Happy Birthday, Love,
Please don’t be angry with me for not giving you a more
personable gift, but Finn convinced me to give you money this year instead.
He has been very persistent since last year, and I agreed for no other reason than to shut him up. Please buy yourself something
from me.
I’ve seen women wear lacy breast bands and matching
underwear, and all I can think about is what you would look like in one. Do you know what seeing you in a set would do to me? Fuck, I could stroke my cock right now at the thought of a set adorning your soft body.
There is enough money to buy several sets and whatever else you’d like.
Viciously Yours, Nick
P.S. As soon as I find out what makes you wet, I will drown between your thighs.
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Amelia gaped at the exuberant amount of money sitting on her desk. What in the hell did he do for a living?
Glancing back at the letter, hot jealousy replaced her shock, slicing through her chest like a freshly sharpened knife.
He expected her to stay celibate, yet he fucked other women and asked her to wear undergarments like theirs? Fury and hurt caught fire within her, and she crumpled the paper into a ball.
“You fucking asshole!” She yelled into the empty room. “You did gods know what to Gilpin, yet you tell me of other women’s fucking underwear?”
Snatching the bag of money, she stomped to her window, slammed it open, and cocked her arm back, but before she could cover the snow with paper and coins, something stole the bag from her grasp, along with the ruined letter on the floor, and disappeared.
“Fuck you,” she seethed. “Don’t come back.”
Minutes of silence passed before she dropped to her bed and rested her head in her hands.
Did Ora have a red lacy set she wore especially for him?
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Rennick leaned his elbows on his desk and rubbed his eyes. He’d woken that morning with white-hot anger burning bright in his chest, mixed with other things, but the anger was too potent to distinguish the others.
It was only a matter of time before Finn returned, and if he’d not seen anything amiss with Amelia, then Rennick would send Greta. There was no fear, so he knew she was safe, but whatever upset her was big.
“Never once in our lives have I ever thought you were stupid until now,” Finn said as he walked into Rennick’s study.
Rennick’s gaze caught his friend’s before trailing to the bag of money and paper ball in his hands.
Finn tossed the bag of money onto Rennick’s desk, followed by the paper. “Your mate cried, crushed the letter in her hands, called you an asshole, and tried to throw the money out of the window.”
Rennick stood fast enough to knock his chair over. She was upset with
him? “I told you money was a terrible gift,” he barked, already rounding his
desk to fetch Ora.
“It wasn’t the money, it was your letter,” Finn corrected, stopping him. “You told her you saw other women in lacy undergarments.”
Rennick stopped and frowned. “I don’t understand.”
Finn scrubbed a hand down his face and muttered something that sounded like idiot. “If she sent you money and asked you to buy undershorts that she saw on another man, what would you do?”
Rennick’s frown deepened. “I would kill the man and buy the shorts, if that’s what she liked.”
Finn waited, and when Rennick didn’t continue, he looked disappointed. “Ren, why would you kill the man?”
Oh. “Shit.”
Finn shook his head. “She looked hurt, but mainly pissed.”
Returning to his desk, Rennick pulled out another piece of paper and sat down, praying to the gods she wouldn’t run to another after his foolish words. “I need this delivered immediately.”
Finn already had his hand out.
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Amelia threw open the door to her room, not caring when it banged loudly against the wall, and stomped inside. Her mood had not improved since that morning, nor did it improve at the sight of a black envelope atop her pillow.
She kicked her door closed, yanked her scarf off, and snatched the envelope off the bed. The pretty black paper ripped as she tore at it to see what Nick had to say for himself. In the past, she’d responded to things in his letters out loud, wondering if he could hear her, but he never acknowledged it.
The closest thing she’d received to a response was when she’d been allowed to keep one of his letters. Her hands shook as she carefully unfolded the paper.
Letter #96
Hello, Love,
I’m afraid I wasn’t clear in my last letter. The women I mentioned were not lovers of mine. Fae are not modest, and it is not unusual for people to forgo modesty at certain establishments.
There isn’t another woman in all of Eden who could take me from you, little mate, nor is there another man who could take you from me.
I won’t allow it.
Please take the money and buy whatever you wish. You could
wear a horse’s saddle, and I’d still dream of having you in every way possible.
I apologize for making you doubt that. Viciously Yours,
Nick
P.S. The saddle was a bad example because all I can think about is ripping it off and riding you hard.
Amelia pressed the letter to her chest with wide eyes. Who was this man?
