Chapter 2 Page 11

The ride back to Ellie’s apartment was uneventful. She had a near miss when the jacket she had wrapped around Ophelia fell to the side revealing a creamy plump breast. In that instance of distraction, she nearly ran into the back of a pickup truck. Once she righted her vehicle, she made sure to keep her eyes on the thinning evening traffic. She wasn’t sure how she would explain the naked sleeping girl in her passenger seat if she were pulled over by the police.

Ellie’s apartment was a tiny affair, just big enough for a single working woman. It was barely large enough to keep her sleuthing equipment, and situated near the heart of Harborton. Things were quiet for Ellie since she was living next to an elderly woman. However, a few doors down, closer to the parking lot, a weekend party was in full swing.

Blocking as much of Ophelia as possible, to preserve the girl’s modesty, Ellie opened the passenger door. She adjusted the jacket as best she could, but Ophelia was hippie and busty in ways that Ellie never could be. Her jacket barely covered Ophelia’s ample breasts and hips. It just wasn’t designed to hold such plump cuteness.

A young man with bleary eyes sat by himself on the wall overlooking the parking lot. Ellie searched his mind, but his level of intoxication was sufficiently high. He wouldn’t remember anything he saw while he was in that state. His mind was already filling in the spotty details with a fictional story about two girls making out. She cradled Ophelia close, but the girl was limp as a noodle. When she slept, she did it soundly.

Ellie fumbled with her keys but managed to open her door. Once she was inside, with the door firmly shut behind her, Ophelia’s eyes shot open. Ellie sighed and lowered the girl’s feet gently to the floor. The jacket gaped open, revealing most of Ophelia’s body. The girl, however, seemed unconcerned with her blatant nudity.

It was the first time Ellie had a chance to look at Ophelia since the dragon attack. She caught her breath and flushed deeply. Something about Ophelia’s nonchalant charm set her heart racing. She could easily imagine running her hands up Ophelia’s belly and cupping those tender breasts in her open palm. She shook her head to clear it of those intrusive fantasies. They barely knew each other, and Ellie wasn’t about to take advantage of the girl right after a personal tragedy.

“Make yourself at home,” Ellie offered.

“Is this where we live, Master,” Ophelia asked as she bounced away from Ellie, and headed for the kitchen. The girl spotted the refrigerator and opened it curiously.

“This is my apartment, and I don’t think you should be calling me that.” Ellie didn’t want to admit that every time Ophelia used the word “Master,” it made her tingle.

“It isn’t very big is it?” She frowned when she saw the meager contents of Ellie’s fridge, and with a look of resignation, she grabbed a box of leftover lo-mein takeout. “My other master had a huge house, but I don’t need much room.”

Ellie felt a sudden apprehension, and she entered her kitchen smothered in feelings of inadequacy. She wasn’t sure where the feelings were coming from. “She’s not yours to keep, Ellie. No matter what she says,” she chided herself.

“If you aren’t Master, then why do you feel like Master,” asked Ophelia, “Why can I hear you in here, like Master,” she added out loud, pointing to her head.

 

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