Page 48

The weekend passed by abnormally fast.

Faster than I wanted it to, given the holiday approaching on Monday.

Monroe was busy with work the entire weekend, although she managed to make time for the smaller moments.

Like dinner or letting me sit with her while she focused on her laptop.

I really liked her presence around me, even if she was busy working.

Sunday night I ended up staying at Zion and Sarai's for a cute Valentine's movie night.

Then the next day, I was practically running around like a chicken with its head cut off.

Mostly because I wanted to buy Monroe a gift just in case.

If we don't end up doing anything then I can just return the gifts or something.

But I would rather be prepared.

Even if I'm last-minute shopping.

This weekend went by too quickly, and I was also around Monroe twenty-four-seven, so I didn't have time to shop like that.

Today I made an effort to browse the mall before class, trying to find somewhat of a creative gift.

Or maybe one that shows I pay attention.

She always pays attention to me.

The first place I went was to the Louboutin store since those are the usual stilettos she wears.

It's a little frustrating though because she doesn't really need any new colors.

I would basically be purchasing another pair for her to wear.

So I came up with a more creative idea—after searching Instagram for the right place to help me.

I didn't want to give her another pair of her usual heels.

I wanted these to embody me a little more.

I wanted to see a piece of me on her.

So I decided on a quick custom design, nothing too complicated.

There was a small business downtown that specialized in painting products.

Whether it was shoes, purses, or anything you bring in really.

I wanted to do a kiss mark on one of the heels.

The owner said I could kiss a piece of paper and he would use it as a stencil.

I think it's the perfect idea because it would symbolize the time I kissed her heel in that bar bathroom.

And it would be done in a few hours, which was perfect because I could go to class and pick the heels up after.

I ended up choosing a silver metallic paint for the kiss mark once I got to the shop.

Red or pink would've been cute, but silver seemed more like Monroe's style.

It's neutral and it goes with more things rather than a bright color.

She also wears silver jewelry.

I was confident in the choice I made.

And the kiss mark I pressed onto the paper was perfect.

My ego told me it was literal art.

I swear I was so fucking excited at the idea of seeing the heels all finished and done.

Monroe and I had already been texting throughout the morning, especially as I kept her updated on my day as usual.

For once, one of my lies was completely necessary, especially since I still wasn't sure if we were doing the Valentine's thing.

We hadn't discussed it once all morning, but I was already locked into my gift now.

So I just told her I was out shopping with Zion and Sarai, taking into account that she has my location.

Luckily she couldn't see the Louboutin store I had gone to since it was in the mall, and she didn't question the small business I was at downtown.

Class ended up being excruciatingly long today, especially as I kept glancing at the clock, waiting to leave so I could pick up the heels.

I counted the seconds down until the lecture finally ended.

Our professor even let us out early in spite of Valentine's Day so that was really nice.

It gave me some extra time to prepare more of her gifts.

While zoning out in class, I thought about taking Polaroids for her.

Explicit polaroids.

I even picked up some ribbon from the store to tie around them later—then I drove over to pick up the heels.

The owner had texted much earlier that they were dried and done.

He even sealed the red bottoms for me as an added measure, which was really nice.

At this point, a small part of me hoped that maybe we would celebrate Valentine's Day.

Even if Monroe still hadn't mentioned anything or texted about the holiday once.

But I didn't want to make a big deal out of it.

I had decided on the way home that I could still give her the gifts.

Just not on Valentine's Day if we're not celebrating it.

I could just randomly give them to her a couple of weeks from now as a surprise.

At this point, I kind of want to see her reaction.

If she would have one, I don't know.

Maybe I'm doing too much.

That's what I had started to think after taking my Polaroids.

Don't get me wrong, they were cute.

I was dressed in a black lacy set, taking different selfies and angles of my body.

Some were even bare.

It just felt very... girlfriend material I guess.

I didn't want to cross any lines or anything.

The moment Monroe senses I want a relationship she might just end this all.

So I definitely don't want to give that impression.

I smiled as I eyed the Louboutin box and the stack of polaroids tied with a shiny white ribbon.

It was very cute—and the heels came out perfect.

Somehow the small kiss mark on the left stiletto was better than I could've imagined.

He put it exactly where I specified—closer to the tip of the stiletto where I specifically kissed so many weeks ago.

I glanced over to the clock, noticing it was approaching the evening.

And still nothing about Valentine's Day from Monroe.

I suddenly reached for my phone on the kitchen counter, unlocking it to text her.

The last text was her wishing me luck with studying.

Clearly, I didn't study though—it was a lie since she asked me what I was doing.

Monroe likes detailed answers so I couldn't just say nothing much like I would with anyone else.

I pursed my lips together, hesitantly typing on the screen as I typed out the most nonchalant text I could think of.

It was a normal text—something I would send on any other day to her.

Knots grew in my stomach when the typing bubbles appeared on her end.

This would be a make-or-break moment I think.

I drew in a deep breath when two texts buzzed through from her.

A deep sigh fell from my lips, determining that was my answer.

Later tonight meant casual.

It meant our usual routine.

I would come over and stay the night, that's it.

I started typing again, but slowly halted, weirdly feeling affected by this.

But I knew we probably wouldn't celebrate.

I probably shouldn't have done all of this.

Now I feel really stupid.

I held down her message, deciding to heart it instead of answering.

I felt annoyed with myself for having the urge to cry.

I shouldn't cry, I knew it would end up like this.

It's literally an arrangement.

She made that clear.

I sighed heavily, navigating to TikTok as my usual distraction.

But of course, my feed was filled with Valentine's Day-inspired videos.

Great.

I should probably just hide away under my covers until she tells me to come over later.

A nap would be great right now I guess.

I reluctantly backed away from the counter, leaving the gifts there, and walking toward my bedroom.

Since I was only wearing black sweatpants and a t-shirt, I just slid right into bed—tugging the covers over me as I set my phone on the nightstand.

I wasn't even tired honestly, but I knew I needed to force myself to sleep right now.

It would be easier that way.

I laid there for minutes on end—losing track of time there for a moment.

I knew it had been a while when my room grew darker, the sun setting on the horizon.

My thoughts were so chaotic and annoying, truly regretting the whole gift idea.

It was all I could think about as I stared expressionlessly at the wall.

The moment my phone buzzed on my nightstand, I prayed it was Monroe texting since I was ready to get up.

It was relieving to see her name on my screen even if I knew tonight might suck a little more.

I guess it was more about her reaction to me.

The holiday itself doesn't mean that much.

I glanced down at my phone as I unlocked it, squinting as I read the text on my bright screen.

I furrowed my brows at her text, immediately typing on the screen to text her back.

It felt odd for her to randomly tell me to come into the office.

And it's almost seven.

I almost wondered if I had done something wrong—or if she found out that I bought her gifts.

I did use the credit card she gave me...

Still, that doesn't mean I can't buy myself something at Louboutin technically.

I glanced down when my phone buzzed with a new text from her.

Normally, I would smile at a text like that.

But I just didn't feel in the mood anymore.

I sighed as I laid up from my bed and turned my lamp on.

I didn't plan on changing or anything.

Sweatpants were what I wanted to stick with.

I just wanted to change out of my baggy t-shirt, tugging on a cute long-sleeve cheetah crop top instead.

Then I used a claw clip to pull my hair back.

Since I did a blowout yesterday, it stayed in place much better than if my hair was curly.

I pulled out a few strands to frame my face, slipping on a pair of platform Adidas before making my way out of my bedroom.

I grabbed the gifts from the counter, deciding to tuck them away in my trunk until there was a better time to give them to her.

Otherwise, I didn't want to lay eyes on them.

I tried to get in a better mindset during my drive over to her office, especially since Monroe would notice something was up.

But I just felt really bummed—I shouldn't have had any expectations, and I knew that from the start.

I always try to practice that with everyone after I learned the hard way with my mother.

I was always let down by her to the point where I had to let go of expectations.

Sometimes they still show up.

This is one of those times when I let myself slip.

But I tried my best to push through it, practicing my smile on the elevator ride to the familiar office.

I just didn't expect her to be waiting in the empty lobby for me.

Her soft brown hair was down, framing her face as she wore a black blouse and matching dress pants.

"Hey," I said, forcing my smile to widen as I stepped off the elevator.

Monroe gently grabbed my hand, instinctively pulling me closer to her.

"My beautiful girl," she murmured, wrapping her arms around my waist.

A warmth lit up in my chest at her words, and the way she was holding me.

It made me feel a lot better.

Maybe this was all I needed.

"I'm sorry work was so busy," I whispered as I hugged her back.

"Don't be darling," Monroe said, gently squeezing my waist, "I prefer it that way."

"You're insane," I joked, not knowing one person in my life who genuinely enjoyed being busy with work.

Maybe my mother I guess.

"We've concluded that already," she murmured as we naturally pulled away from the hug.

I hummed lazily, "I forget sometimes," I said as we began walking past the lobby.

And even if my tone was light, I knew we were being serious.

Monroe can be insane, and she has no issues with admitting that, which I think makes her more insane.

Yet somehow it doesn't bother me.

Maybe I'm insane too.

I furrowed my brows the moment we made it to her office—pausing at the open door frame.

There were numerous things on her desk.

The box of Cookie Crisps with a red bow is what I noticed first.

Then the red roses, and numerous matte black gift bags.

Also a bag of lollipops with another red bow.

My entire world felt like it shifted—like suddenly everything was okay again.

More than okay.

"Monroe," I whispered as I glanced over to meet her dark blue eyes.

Her stare was already pinned on me, silently gauging my reaction.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Liberty," she softly whispered, running her arm around my waist.

I immediately leaned in to hug her, throwing my arms around her as I buried my face in her chest.

"I thought... you didn't want to celebrate it," I admitted in a soft whisper as she hugged me back, "I spent all day preparing your gifts and then you told me to come over later tonight so I thought we weren't doing anything and," I suddenly paused, letting out a deep breath.

Monroe leaned away from the hug slightly, meeting my stare with a serious look.

"The goal was to surprise you, darling," she whispered, reaching up to gently cup my cheek, "I wasn't aware you were getting me anything."

I smiled slightly, "Well yeah, I thought it would be nice to do something for you too," I said, smiling shyly when her lips twitched up slightly, "You work so hard."

Monroe shook her head, "My god, Liberty," she murmured under her breath, her smile widening, "You're concerningly adorable."

My face burned up from her words, smiling even wider as she leaned down closer to me and softly kissed my lips.

I tilted my head back further, kissing her deeper as I ran my arms around her neck.

Monroe gently grabbed my waist, our bodies pressed together as she slid her tongue past my lips.

A hum vibrated in my throat as I basked in the softness of her warm tongue in my mouth.

I suddenly smiled when she kissed my lips repetitively, laughing softly when she nipped at my bottom lip.

"Ro," I giggled, lightly pushing her away with a wide smile.

Monroe only smiled as she stared down at me, "I thoroughly enjoy making you laugh, Liberty," she whispered so honestly, somehow making me grow even more shy than before.

Especially when she guided us further into her office, gently closing the door behind us.

It made my focus shift to her desk, eyeing all of the different gifts with curiosity.

"Go on," Monroe said, reading my impatience all too well, "I'll give you your surprise once you open them all."

I raised a brow, "Surprise?" I asked, hesitantly taking a step forward.

And then another—walking over to her desk entirely.

"A very well-deserved surprise," Monroe said, her heels clicking precisely against the floors as she walked with me.

"I have been really good, especially this past weekend," I murmured, eyeing the crisp matte black gift bags.

They were really pretty.

Especially with the perfect red roses.

"I'm really excited for these," I admitted, grabbing the box of cookie crisps first.

"Those will have to wait until morning," Monroe said as her stare remained on me, "I'm cooking for you tonight."

I pursed my lips when my annoying smile threatened to grow even more.

I felt like I looked weird smiling so widely like this.

"What's on the menu chef?" I decided to ask, setting the cookie-crisp cereal down to carefully run my fingers over the roses.

"Chef?" Monroe emphasized, her tone lowered with a subtle tease, "Perhaps I should bend you over my kitchen counter again, Liberty."

"I'm all yours," I said, subtly winking at her as I opened one of the gifts.

"I'm aware darling," she said, watching me carefully as I pulled out the black tissue paper, "Anytime as you said."

I smiled at her exact quote—and at the cheetah print silk top neatly folded in the small gift bag.

It was long-sleeved with an open back.

The material was buttery soft, and the cheetah print was more of a refined style.

More elegant rather than Y2K.

"I love it so much," I whispered, eyeing the top that I held up.

It felt like Monroe knew me so well.

This honestly felt better than anything I would find at a store.

I questioned where she even got it from.

"Good, darling," Monroe said, watching as I nearly folded it to put it back in the gift bag.

Then I grabbed another one to open—

It was a pair of short heels.

Specifically, the kitten ones that I loved.

They were vintage Dior, I almost passed out at the sight of them.

Along with the vintage Chanel purse she also got me.

I was so fucking obsessed.

I couldn't wait to wear all of it.

She also got me a fragrance oil that she picked out herself—and I immediately determined that's all I would wear for her.

I even rolled some of it on before opening the last gift.

"I'm concerned that you know this brand, Ro Ro," I murmured in amusement, eyeing the curly hair products.

"I do my research darling," she said from behind me as I eyed the different products, "This brand has a better reputation than the one you use."

I pursed my lips into a smile, "Is that so?" I whispered, glancing over my shoulder to meet her stare.

"It is," Monroe said, her eyes shifting to eye my hair, "We need to protect your beautiful curls."

My face burned from her words, somehow feeling speechless in front of her now.

It was the way she said we.

Or the fact that she's so invested in something as small as my hair.

"No more blowouts for a while," she softly whispered, "Every week feels excessive."

I pursed my lips, my smile still prominent as I eyed her face, "I just think my hair looks really good in a blowout most times," I admitted, turning to face her entirely.

"Your curls are even more beautiful, Liberty," she didn't hesitate to say, her eyes not wavering once from mine.

"Was this secretly your agenda? Convince me to stop putting heat on my hair?" I asked in amusement, unconsciously reaching for her waist as I stepped closer to her.

"You caught me," Monroe said, her lips twitching up as she stared down at me, "This keeps me up at night."

"Not work?" I teased her, smiling wider when she shook her head at me.

"Work does, but you do too Liberty," she clarified, and I could suddenly hear the seriousness in her tone.

It didn't feel like we were talking about my hair anymore.

I don't know if it was the way she was looking at me.

Or how she suddenly grabbed my waist.

But there was a shift here, I could feel it.

"Now for your surprise," Monroe suddenly said, her voice lowered as she guided me back, "It was one of the first things you asked me for."

"I ask you for a lot of stuff, Ro Ro," I whispered in amusement, leaning against the desk she guided me towards.

"Being bent over my desk was not one I considered," she said, immediately piquing my interest.

The idea of that being the surprise made my body burn, suddenly glancing around.

The shades were covering the windows.

"I thought this was crossing the line?" I teased her, running my hands up her back, "Dr. Leclair," I purposely added.

Her soft lips twitched up, "I drew the line. I decide where it goes," she determined, openly eyeing my face, "Ms. Fierro," she murmured in the same tone I used.

I hummed at the name, "Please, call me Libby, doc," I whispered softly, curving into her body.

"Your name is too pretty to be shortened," Monroe said, and before I could say anything else, she firmly flipped me around.

And grabbed the back of my neck, bending me over her desk entirely.

Her actions alone made heat roll down my body, gripping the desk under me.

I parted my lips as soon as she reached her hand around, sliding them into my mouth.

"Good girl," Monroe calmly said from behind me, making something swirl deeper in my lower stomach.

I inaudibly gasped when she began sliding her fingers in and out of my mouth with firmness.

They were so soft against my tongue as I proudly coated them in my saliva.

But Monroe didn't seem satisfied—she pushed me further, making me gag as her fingers hit the back of my throat repeatedly.

I tightly gripped the desk as my eyes burned from the sensation, whimpering as she continued her pace.

It felt like she was genuinely fucking my mouth with her fingers.

And I... liked it?

She didn't stop until I had salivated so much, drooling down my chin—that she finally slid her fingers out of my mouth.

I panted for air, trying to clear my throat as her other hand reached for the waistband of my sweatpants.

Both of her hands smoothed past my sweatpants, her dry fingers sliding my underwear to the side as she ran her wet ones over my slick core.

"Oh my," Monroe softly whispered as a moan burned in my throat, "Do you like being choked by my fingers, Liberty?"

I moaned even deeper, digging my nails into her cold desk, "Ye-yes," I forced out, squeezing my eyes shut when she applied more pressure to my clit.

"My dirty girl," she murmured, sliding two of her slicked fingers down past my entrance.

I moaned so desperately from her degrading words, basking in the way she angled into my spot so fucking easily.

"Ro, yes," I breathlessly moaned as she rubbed my clit with her thumb.

I tried to force my heavy eyes open through the pleasure, looking over my shoulder to meet her stare already pinned on me.

"Liberty," Monroe suddenly said at the new sight I provided, "Just like that."

I nodded rapidly, holding her stare as best as I could, especially as I felt myself tighten around her fingers from the praise alone.

"M-more please," I quickly forced out, trying to fight my orgasm for her so I could take more.

I whimpered when she slid a third finger into me, giving me exactly what I asked for.

The silent air grew with my deep moans and the wet sounds of her fingers sliding in and out of me repeatedly.

It made my face burn up as I continued to hold her stare, subtly tightening around her.

"Oh my god," I breathed out, furrowing my brows as I tried my hardest to hold her stare through it all, "Yes," I gasped, my lips parting as I hit my peak.

"There you go darling," she softly praised me, holding my heavy eyes as she slowed her pace down to help me ride it out.

I tried my best to hold her stare, but once my orgasm faded, I collapsed on her desk entirely, panting for air.

"So worth it," I breathed out, feeling her carefully slide out of me.

"More than worth it," Monroe didn't hesitate to say, gently guiding me to stand from the desk.

I hummed lazily, softly smiling as she guided me to turn around and face her.

"Time for your gifts," I whispered as she leaned down to briefly kiss my lips.

"Let's head down," Monroe determined, pressing another brief kiss to my lips as I smiled wider.

I couldn't wait to show her what I did.

I hope she likes it.

Honestly, her liking it was all I could think about.

Or if she would even wear the heels really.

I think she'll like the Polaroids of course.

But the heels made me nervous—especially as we headed down to the parking garage with the bags and flowers in hand.

Once we got everything settled in the front seat of my car—I popped my trunk, impatiently guiding her around to see.

I swear I felt so nervous as I watched her silently eye the Louboutin box, running her fingers across the lid.

Then she carefully pulled it off, revealing the shiny black stilettos.

Although, her stare zoned in on one of them specifically.

"It symbolizes the time I kissed your heels," I explained, even if I knew she was aware.

She remembers the smallest of details.

"Liberty," she said, picking up one of the heels, "This is everything darling."

I nearly grinned at her approval, "Really? Because you don't have to wear them or anything. I just thought it was a really cute concept. The kiss mark is mine too, I uh kissed a piece of paper and they made this cool stencil and yeah," I unconsciously rambled, feeling my face burn up.

Especially when her stare suddenly snapped to mine.

"This is beautiful, Liberty," she said, her tone nothing but serious with me, "How could I not wear these?"

I drew in a deep breath at her reassuring words, feeling unaccustomed to this.

Normally, I just buy things without adding my own touch.

Growing up my artwork or projects were never framed—homemade gifts received mediocre reactions.

I briefly remember when they got more praise.

My dad would always take a picture of it, storing anything I made in a memory box.

My mom used to smile in awe until one day she stopped.

I suddenly reached my arms out for Monroe, glancing down when my annoying tears burned in my eyes.

"Darling," Monroe soft whispered, setting the heel down in the box to meet me halfway for the hug, "What's going on?" she asked as her arms slid around my waist.

"I'm just really happy you like them," I whispered, pressing my cheek to her chest as she hugged me so firmly to her body.

"I adore them, Liberty," she didn't hesitate to say, "Thank you."

I drew in another deep breath, "Of course," I forced out, pulling back as I quickly wiped my annoying tears away, "You'll look so perfect in them."

Monroe smiled down at me, "I'll feel perfect wearing them," she said.

Then I noticed her expression falter, suddenly staring down at me with more thought in mind.

It made my brows furrow, feeling the sudden shift.

It's like she had wandered into her thoughts without me.

"Is everything good?" I asked softly, furrowing my brows as I eyed her sharp face.

She blinked once.

And then again.

"Yes darling," she suddenly said, her dark blue eyes trailing my face, "You know the interview I have coming up?"

I nodded briefly, recalling the interview she mentioned just last night.

She received the email Sunday morning.

"Well, there's a small event after," Monroe explained, her stare not wavering from mine, "I want you there, Liberty."

I smiled immediately at her genuine words, warmth swallowing me whole.

"I would love to be there," I whispered, leaning closer to her, "Anything to support you."

Monroe stared at me silently for a moment, a tension boiling around us.

Her eyes sunk into mine, sending shivers down my spine as I held her intense stare.

"You get me," she suddenly said, her voice lowered between us.

I nodded immediately, "I get you," I didn't hesitate to say back, leaning up on my tip-toes to briefly kiss her lips.

Monroe didn't hesitate to reciprocate my short kiss, her lips pressing into mine.

"One last surprise that I made you," I whispered, pulling back slightly.

"Oh, another one?" Monroe asked, watching as I reached into my trunk toward the side.

To grab the polaroids.

Monroe's brows furrowed slightly as I handed them to her, carefully reaching for the ribbon.

Then everything was exposed to her.

I was exposed to her on these Polaroids.

"Incredible," she murmured, looking through the different pictures, "You're incredible, Liberty."

I smiled as I eyed her face, "Don't lose them now," I joked with her, grabbing the Louboutin box as I closed my trunk.

"I would have someone's eyes cut out if they looked at these for even a second," Monroe said, and while I wanted to laugh and think it was a joke.

I couldn't.

Because I knew she was serious.

She sounded serious.

Her tone wasn't light whatsoever.

It weirdly turned me on.

But the idea of that side of her... terrified me.

It was a side I witnessed the night my lie about Kaia crumbled apart.

"I say it's time for you to make me dinner chef," I suddenly said as Monroe continued looking at the Polaroids I made her.

She genuinely couldn't look away for even a second.

"Dinner," Monroe murmured, forcing her stare away from the pictures, "Of course, darling."

I hummed happily when she briefly kissed my lips, gently grabbing the Louboutin box from my hands.

Then we parted ways—Monroe walking over to her car as I got in mine to follow her to her house.

The traffic was terrible given today's holiday, I honestly wished I wasn't driving and rode with her instead.

But I pushed through the extra thirty minutes of sitting in still traffic—finally making it to her house.

Monroe carried the gifts I gave her inside, taking them upstairs as I followed behind her.

She somehow had another gift waiting for me on the bed—one that I assumed would be a little more intimate given the placement.

I expected it to be lingerie.

Or a bra and underwear set.

But instead, it was a silky slip nightgown.

The silk was the darkest black with beautiful silver detailing at the edges.

"I would rather see you in this than lingerie any day," Monroe said as I admired the silky nightgown.

It was odd, most people like lingerie—but Monroe preferred this.

She wanted me in this slip nightgown.

"I love it," I determined, finding this more intimate than anything else.

"Put it on for me darling," she softly whispered from behind me, trailing her hand up my back, "I'll get dinner started."

I immediately nodded as she briefly kissed my temple, "Okay," I said as she pulled away from me, walking out of the room as I began getting undressed.

The silk felt so freeing and comfortable against my skin—the material loose yet somehow accentuating my curves.

I felt... very feminine in this.

Especially once I finally made it downstairs, Monroe's eyes clinging to every inch of my body.

I don't think I've ever felt so comfortable in a piece of clothing before.

And Monroe's compliments only made me love it more.

I sat on the kitchen island as usual, my legs crossed as I kept her company while she cooked us spaghetti.

It was the perfect end to Valentine's Day, realizing it somehow worked out in the end.

I had a Valentine for the first time in my life.

And I really like it.