Rachel smirked, trailing her fingers down his abs. She leaned in, whispering in his ear. "Make me."
Alex raised an eyebrow, amusement flashing in his eyes. Without any more words, he touched her chin, brushing his thumb on her lips. She opened her mouth, welcoming his thumb as he inserted it inside, letting her tongue swirl around it.
A hint of a smirk touched his face as he slid his other hand down to the knot on her towel, pulling at it until it dropped to the floor. "Beautiful," he murmured.
Rachel looked up at him with those bright hazel eyes of hers, her tongue still playing with his thumb.
He took his thumb out of her mouth and grabbed her neck, pulling her into a rough kiss. His tongue slipped inside her mouth, their tongues battling for dominance. He won the fight, and he pulled away from the kiss with a satisfied grin. "Such a naughty girl."
Her hands roamed across his abs, going down to his crotch, grabbing his manhood and she began to jerk it off. 'So hard and big. I've been waiting for this for so long. C'mon, boss. Own me. Show me who's the boss.'
Just then Alex grabbed her throat, giving a light squeeze. It was as if he was reading her mind. "Beg for it," he ordered in a low voice.
"Never..." She said with a slutty smile, looking into his eyes with a defiant look.
Alex chuckled, "Your eyes say something different."
"Yea? What do they say?"
Alex grinned, "On your knees." He grabbed her hair and pushed her down, forcing her to kneel before him. He slapped her face with his cock a couple of times. "Open your mouth." He ordered while rubbing his cock on her lips.
Rachel parted her lips and took the tip inside her mouth, her tongue swirling around it.
"Mmmh!" Rachel moaned as she began to suck on it, her head bobbing up and down as she began to take more and more of his shaft into her mouth.
His cock reached the back of her throat and she gagged. She pulled her head back but Alex kept his grip on her hair, preventing her from moving. He began to push his cock back, deeper inside her mouth until his entire length was inside her mouth and his balls were touching her chin.
Tears started to form in her eyes as she struggled to breathe, her saliva dripping down to her breasts. 'Yeah! Gag me, boss. Make me beg for air.'
Alex kept pulling out a bit before shoving it back into her throat. The way her muscles clenched around his tip made him shudder in pleasure. All this time, he was holding back. Too busy with work and making a stable life and in between he buried his desires. And now, it was time to let it all loose.
"Kuggak!"
"Coughhh...!"
Rachel tapped his thigh, signaling to him that she wanted to breathe.
He chuckled and pulled his cock out.
Rachel coughed violently as soon as his cock came out of her mouth. She took deep breaths, gasping for air. Her saliva was all over her face and her lips were swollen and red. She looked up at him with a slutty expression on her face. Her eyes were filled with lust.
Alex looked down at her with a satisfied grin. "Had enough?" He asked, amused at how easily he could control her.
Rachel shook her head and lunged forward, taking his cock in her mouth again. "Mmmh!" She moaned, feeling his cock throb in her mouth as she bobbed her head up and down. Her tongue swirled around his cock as she sucked him off, looking up at him with a slutty expression. This time without him doing anything, she was deepthroating his entire shaft, gagging on it, and enjoying every moment of it.
'Fuck. I can't believe this is happening. He's just using me as his slut. I don't even have any control over my body anymore. It feels so good. I want him to use me forever.'
"Fuck, you're so good at this. You must be experienced," Alex commented, as he thrust into her throat.
'No, I was saving it for you, boss. Hehehe. Make me your personal slut.'
Rachel couldn't answer him, but she felt a strong sense of pride swell within her chest.
'He likes it! I'm making him feel good! All those practices with cucumber were worth it.'
She bobbed her head faster, sucking on his cock harder as she used her hands to fondle his balls. She felt them tighten as his breathing became more labored. He was close.
"Mmmh!" Rachel moaned as she felt his cock twitch inside her mouth.
"Fuuuuck!" He groaned. He was close. Getting sexual stimulation after over five or six years, well, he just wants to cum buckets. Heck, even with the System's passive that gives him enhanced stamina and endurance, having a beautiful woman like Rachel sucking his dick was making his mind go crazy.
He grabbed her head and started thrusting into her mouth. "Fuuuuck!"
'His cock is throbbing. He's going to cum. Yes, do it, boss! Cum down my throat!'
"Fuck!" Alex grunted as he began to thrust his hips faster and faster, until finally, he felt his balls tighten up.
"Fuuuuck!" He groaned as he shot his load into her throat.
And to his surprise and hers, it was so much that his semen overflowed from her nose. Rachel couldn't take it all in, so she pulled his cock out of her mouth. She was still swallowing his semen while she coughed violently.
Alex looked at the sight before him. The way she was on her knees, trying to swallow his semen while coughing, saliva mixed with semen dripping down from her mouth, down to her breasts. A puddle of his cum on the floor. "God... That was awesome." He muttered.
"Gulp... Gulp... Gulp..."
Rachel swallowed everything, even though there was so much of it that she had trouble breathing. She was panting heavily, trying to catch her breath. She looked up at him and smiled sluttily, licking the last drops of his semen from the corner of her mouth.
"I only watched cum coming out of nose in some extreme porno, but dang, boss. What the hell are you? A human fountain?"
Alex chuckled. "That was one hell of a blowjob."
She grinned, "Heh, glad you enjoyed it. I know I did."
Both of them sat down on the sauna floor, trying to catch their breath. Rachel looked up at him and said, "So what now? One time thing that happened in the spur of the moment?"
Alex smirked at her, "What do you think?"
"I mean, you are my boss..." She looked down. "And..."
Before she could finish...
"And it's your job as my personal assistant to make sure I'm satisfied," Alex interrupted, his voice low and husky. "Isn't it?"
Rachel blinked. "Wait, what?"
Alex's gaze darkened. "You're not backing out now, are you?"
Rachel bit her lip. "Well, I—"
Suddenly, Alex grabbed her left nipple and gave it a little twist, "What? Backing down now, after showing off these beauties?"
"Ah! Fuck!" She moaned. "No, I'm not."
"Hahaha... Look at you now. I never knew you were so kinky, Rachel."
"Shut up."
He pinched her nipple again and gave it a little twist.
"Mmmh!" She moaned in pleasure. "Please, don't tease me anymore."
Alex stood up and stretched his arms. Rachel's eyes were stuck on his body. She wanted him to hold her tight and fuck her senseless.
"Well, look at the time. If we stay in the sauna anymore then we'll get dehydrated." He started walking towards the door. "Come, let's get out of here."
"Wha—Are you seriously going to leave me like this?" Rachel asked, dumbfounded.
He stopped for a moment and looked at her over his shoulder. His gaze was dark and predatory. "You're not allowed to touch yourself, understood? I will know if you disobey."
Rachel gulped. "You think just because you said so, I'll stop touching myself?"
Alex grinned, "I don't think you understand. From this moment forward, you are mine. You belong to me. And what's mine, stays mine. So I wouldn't advise you to do anything that might displease me."
"What are you gonna do? Punish me?" She stood up and walked toward him. "I'm gonna masturbate thinking about what we did just now."
Alex smiled and put his arm around her waist, pulling her close to him. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, "If you do that, then you will be punished."
"Oh yeah?" She challenged him. "How so?"
He smirked. "Because I'll spank you."
Her eyes widened. "You wouldn't dare!"
"Oh really?" Alex raised his hand and gently caressed her ass, causing goosebumps all over her body. "Try me."
Rachel shivered as she felt his hand slide across her ass. She gulped. She could feel herself getting wetter. She knew she couldn't resist.
Alex leaned down and kissed her neck before whispering, "If you masturbate then I won't eat you tonight... Remember that."
With that, he left, leaving her standing there, naked, wet, and horny as hell. 'Fuck!'
...
[Let's go back to Max and Caroline a bit]
Max and Caroline sat at their wobbly kitchen table, which leaned to the left as if it, too, was tired of their broke lives. Between them sat a pile of envelopes, each a love letter from Max's questionable financial decisions.
Max squinted at the mess. "I haven't seen this many bills since I had that dream I was married to a guy named Bill, and we had ten kids named Bill Jr."
"Alex..." Caroline smirked.
"Tsk. Yeah, Alex..." Max sighed. "I just made up the Jr part. Never mind that."
Caroline flipped through her notebook, where every debt was neatly listed and color-coded. "Well, buckle up, because today, we're saying goodbye to Max Black: Financial Disaster, and hello to Max Black: Regular Disaster."
Max huffed, stealing a glance at their brand-new debit card. "Are we even sure this card works? What if I touch it, and it bursts into flames or starts playing sad violin music?"
"It'll work," Caroline said. "I transferred the 250,000 from Alex to our new joint account. It's real, Max. We are financially stable." She paused, her eyes wide with the wonder of it. "We might even qualify for a lease somewhere that doesn't come with rats as roommates."
Max leaned back, smirking. "Whoa, let's not get crazy. The rats are basically our family. You know, like those weird cousins who show up uninvited and eat all your food."
Caroline waved a fistful of envelopes. "Nope! We are paying off every cent you owe. Student loans, Gary the Meat Guy, gambling debt, and even… Lucy's Lube." She shuddered. "I'm not even gonna ask about that one."
Max shrugged. "Sometimes a girl's gotta lube up and vibe out. Don't judge me."
Caroline stood, pulling Max to her feet. "Come on. The faster we do this, the sooner we can get home and start our new life as debt-free, responsible adults."
Max snorted. "I'm pretty sure responsible adults don't keep cash in a shoebox labeled 'Definitely Not a Drug Stash.'"
"Which is why I got your sign for that joint bank account two days ago," Caroline said, dragging her out the door.
[Student Loan Office]
The student loan office was as depressing as ever. The waiting room was full of people who looked like they had aged five years just by walking in. The walls were painted in a shade of gray so dull it could probably put caffeine to sleep.
Max shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "This place gives me hives. I feel like they're gonna take my blood as payment."
A robotic voice crackled through the speaker. "Number 42."
"That's us!" Caroline chirped, pulling Max up. "Remember, act like a grown-up."
Max gave her a look. "You've met me, right?"
At the counter, a woman named Denise (if her nametag wasn't lying) greeted them with the enthusiasm of a DMV worker who'd just run out of coffee.
"What can I do for you today?" Denise asked, blinking as if this job had drained all the color from her soul.
Max slid an envelope across the counter. "I'm here to pay off my student loans. All seventeen grand."
Denise looked at the envelope, then at Max, and then back at the envelope, like she expected Monopoly money to fall out. "In full?"
Max hesitated, and Caroline jumped in. "Yes! We'd like to pay it all. Right now."
Denise's expression didn't change. "We usually don't see people pay off loans here. Most of our clients just set up payment plans and then fake their own deaths."
Max raised an eyebrow. "What if I'm already faking my death and this is just my ghost trying to clear my credit score?"
Denise didn't laugh. Denise probably hadn't laughed since 1993.
Caroline nudged Max and slid their shiny new debit card through the reader. The machine beeped, and they held their breath. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, the word Approved flashed on the screen.
Max gasped. "Oh my God. We did it. I don't owe the government anything."
Denise handed them a receipt. "Congratulations on not being a financial leper. Have a nice day."
Max leaned over the counter. "You, too, Denise. May your dreams be more colorful than this office."
Denise blinked. "Unlikely."
[Gary the Meat Guy]
Their next stop was Gary's Meats, a butcher shop that looked like it had once hosted a mob hit. The windows were grimy, the meat looked... well, meat-ish, and the whole place smelled like regret.
Gary was a mountain of a man with a butcher's apron that had seen more blood than a Tarantino movie. When Max and Caroline walked in, he gave them a look that suggested he might be thinking about which cuts of them would sell best.
Max forced a grin. "Hey, Gary. I got your money. All five hundred bucks."
Gary's eyebrows rose. "Really? You got money? What happened, you start selling drugs?"
"Nope. I just decided to become a responsible adult," Max said, as if the words physically hurt her.
Gary didn't look convinced. "If you're a responsible adult, I'm a vegan."
Caroline set the cash on the counter, nice and neat. "We're square, right?"
Gary picked up the money, sniffed it like he could smell counterfeit bills, then nodded. "Yeah, we're good. But if you ever need meat on credit again, I'm your guy."
Max shuddered. "Pretty sure I'd rather eat my own shoe than go back into meat debt."
Gary squinted at her. "Are you insulting my meat?"
"Every day of my life, Gary," Max shot back as Caroline dragged her out.
[Women's Tennis Gambling Debt]
Their next stop was a dive bar that looked like it had been built from bad decisions and nicotine stains. A trio of sketchy men sat at a table, playing cards. They had the vibe of people who said "family business" but meant "crime family."
Max slapped an envelope of cash on the table. "Four grand. That settles my debt, right?"
The guy with the worst haircut in New York picked up the cash, licked his thumb, and counted it. "You're really paying up? I thought we'd have to break your legs."
Max smirked. "Yeah, well, I kinda need my legs for... leg stuff."
Caroline leaned in. "We're good, right? No broken limbs, no more calls?"
The guy nodded. "Sure. But if you ever want to bet on women's tennis again, we've got great odds on who'll smash the most rackets."
Max backed away slowly. "I'm just gonna take my intact kneecaps and go."
[Lucy's Lube – Adult Toy Store]
Max and Caroline stood outside Lucy's Lube, a neon pink sign buzzing overhead. The storefront window displayed an array of products ranging from the mildly suggestive to the deeply concerning. A mannequin wearing a harness and holding a sign that read "Spice Up Your Tuesday!" waved at them in the wind.
Caroline crossed her arms, her cheeks tinged with pink. "Okay, can we just pay and go? This place gives me the heebie-jeebies."
Max smirked. "Relax, Blondie. It's just a sex shop. You've seen worse. You lived with me, remember?"
"Yeah, and you bought a Lobster Lover Ultra Plus here, so my trauma is layered."
"Correction," Max said, pushing open the door. "I financed a Lobster Lover Ultra Plus here. That's why we're paying off my debt."
Inside, the store was surprisingly cozy, if cozy meant surrounded by rubber appendages and bottles labeled "Euphoria in a Bottle". Shelves lined the walls, each dedicated to a different type of pleasure, from lotions and lubes to gadgets with more settings than a spaceship.
A cheerful woman in her late thirties, with bubblegum-pink hair and a name tag that read Alice, waved at them from behind the counter. "Hey, ladies! Here for the new Rabbit Ranger model? We just got them in, and let me tell you, they've got more vibes than a music festival."
Caroline winced. "Oh my God."
Max, unfazed, strolled up to the counter. "Actually, I'm here to clear my tab. Six hundred bucks for the Lobster Lover Ultra Plus and the Lube-tastic Mega Pack."
Alice's face lit up. "Oh! You're Max! We've been waiting for you!" She turned around, rummaging under the counter. "One sec."
Caroline leaned in, whispering, "Why do I feel like she's about to bring out something terrifying?"
Max shrugged. "It's just a vibrator. How bad can it..."
Alice popped back up, hauling a massive pink gift basket, cellophane wrapped and tied with a bow. It was brimming with colorful bottles, a mini vibrator that looked like it came with a remote control, and enough batteries to power a small village.
"Here you go!" Alice beamed. "Since you paid off your balance, you get the Ultra Plus Lover's Kit! It comes with a deluxe vibrator, six flavors of lube, a bottle of our Endless Joy massage oil, and two AA batteries... because we care about sustainability."
Max stared at the over-the-top gift basket, her expression hovering somewhere between awe and suspicion. "Uh, Alice, this is really nice and all, but I'm just here to settle my debt. I didn't expect a prize for not being a financial disaster."
Caroline leaned in, her voice a whisper. "Please tell me this isn't some kind of buy-one-get-one-soul-binding-contract situation."
Alice waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, no, nothing like that! Actually, we owe you an apology." She shuffled through a stack of papers, pulling out a wrinkled note with Max's name scrawled on it. "Turns out, the Lube-tastic Mega Pack you bought was, uh, expired."
Caroline's eyes widened. "Expired lube? What happens when lube expires?"
Max threw her hands up. "Well, that explains why it felt like I was moisturizing with glue! I thought my kitty was just going through a rebellious phase."
Alice winced. "Yeah, super sorry about that. And, uh, about the Lobster Lover Ultra Plus... turns out it was part of a defective batch. It had a motor issue. We tried to call you, but you never picked up."
Max's face turned crimson. "You were the unknown number? I thought it was a debt collector! I've been dodging you for months. I even changed my voicemail to 'If this is about money, I'm dead.'"
Caroline smacked her forehead. "Max, seriously?"
Alice chuckled. "Totally understandable. Anyway, since it was our bad, you don't owe us anything. The basket is our way of saying sorry. The new stuff is top of the line, and I promise, nothing in here will leave you feeling... itchy."
Max blinked. "Wait. So, I don't have to pay the six hundred bucks?"
"Nope! Consider it wiped clean. And if you need anything else, just call. We've got a rewards program now. Every tenth purchase, you get a free gift!"
Caroline opened her mouth, then closed it, visibly grappling with a response. "I have... so many questions. But I think I'm just going to smile and nod."
Max grinned, clutching the basket like it was an Olympic trophy. "Well, look at that! I came in with debt and left with free stuff. This is the best adulting I've ever done."
Alice gave them a thumbs-up. "Enjoy! And remember, if anything else starts to feel like glue, just call us."
As they walked out, Max shot Caroline a smug look. "See? You thought this was gonna be a nightmare, but I just got a free lube basket. The universe loves me."
Caroline muttered under her breath. "Or it's trying to keep you out of trouble because it knows you'll find your way back into it no matter what."
Max laughed. "Oh, ye of little faith. C'mon, let's go celebrate my victory with something less... slippery."
And with that, the two best friends strolled down the street, the oversized pink basket swinging between them, drawing curious stares from every passerby.
--
Max and Caroline sat at the sticky bar of The Rusty Mug, a divey joint that smelled like spilled beer and shattered dreams. The neon lights cast a weird, greenish glow over everything, making their gin and tonics look like radioactive potions.
Max raised her glass. "To being debt-free! Finally, I'm not financially hunted like a low-budget Jason Bourne!"
Caroline clinked her glass. "And to our future bakery! Max & Caroline's Bake Shop. A real, legitimate business, where we don't have to hide from bill collectors or pretend to be dead on the phone."
Max smirked. "Yeah, you're welcome for that. My 'Oh no, Max died in a tragic breadstick accident' performance was Oscar-worthy."
Caroline shuddered. "And deeply concerning. The fake sobbing was too real. I almost believed it myself."
As they sipped their drinks, the door swung open, and in stumbled Oleg, wearing a fur hat that looked suspiciously like a repurposed raccoon, dragging behind him a very reluctant Han. Han's face was the picture of misery, his tiny frame practically deflated, and his suit rumpled like he'd lost a battle with a wind tunnel.
Max's eyes lit up. "Oh great, if it isn't our favorite creepy uncle and his adopted sad hamster!"
Oleg plopped onto the stool next to Max, his hat nearly slipping over his eyes. "Ladies! I see you are celebrating. What for? Finally decided to try lesbianism and leave all us sad men behind?"
Caroline blinked. "What? No! We paid off all our debts today."
Oleg's eyes widened. "All of them? Even the one to Gary the Meat Guy? I thought he'd end up making one of you into sausage!"
Max nodded proudly. "Yep. All clear. Even got a free adult gift basket out of it. It's been a good day."
Han, who had been staring into the void, finally spoke. "You're really leaving the diner, huh?"
Caroline's smile faltered. "Oh, Han..."
Oleg patted Han on the back with enough force to rattle his organs. "Yes, my tiny friend, they are abandoning us. Like the American healthcare system abandons the uninsured."
Han sniffled. "But... who will make fun of my height? Or trick me into eating expired pie? Or call me 'Small Fry' when I do something brave, like use the employee bathroom instead of the customer one?"
Max softened. "Aww, Han, you'll find new waitresses to torment you. Maybe ones who actually do their jobs."
Han sighed. "But they won't be you. You guys are my family. Sure, a really dysfunctional family that might occasionally set the kitchen on fire, but still."
Caroline put a gentle hand on his shoulder. "We'll still visit. We're just five blocks away. And if you ever need cupcakes for the diner, you know who to call."
Oleg grinned, slinging an arm around Han. "Come on, buddy. We are here to drink away our sadness. And if that does not work, I have a friend who will 'cheer you up' for forty bucks."
Han turned green. "Oleg, I am not sleeping with one of your 'friends.' The last one tried to sell me counterfeit watches while we were... um... negotiating."
Max burst out laughing. "Oh my God, Han, are you telling me you almost slept with a hooker who moonlights as a watch dealer?"
Han slumped over the bar. "She said I had a 'trustworthy face.' I thought it was a compliment. Turns out it was a sales tactic."
Oleg waved down the bartender. "Four shots of your finest, cheapest tequila!"
The bartender, who looked like he had seen things he'd never unsee, poured out four shots with the speed of a man who knew not to ask questions.
Caroline winced as Oleg handed Han a shot. "Are you sure this is a good idea? He's not a big drinker."
Oleg grinned. "Nonsense. He is like a tiny squirrel. He drinks, he forgets, he wakes up in a new nest. Maybe next to a nice lady. Or at least a lady."
Han eyed the shot glass with the terror of a man about to face a firing squad. "Do I have to?"
Max nudged him. "C'mon, Han. What's the worst that could happen? You take the shot, get a little buzzed, and maybe loosen up enough to dance. Or, you know, pass out and save yourself from Oleg's 'cheering up' friend."
Caroline raised her shot glass. "To new beginnings!"
Oleg raised his. "To old regrets!"
Max clinked glasses. "And to Han, may his liver forgive us!"
Reluctantly, Han raised his glass. "To... not dying?"
They all knocked back the shots. Han sputtered immediately, his tiny body quaking as if he'd just swallowed gasoline. "Is... is tequila supposed to feel like fire?"
Oleg slapped his back again. "Yes! That is the demon leaving your soul. Or entering it. I forget which."
The night wore on, and the drinks kept coming. Han, as it turned out, was a surprisingly honest drunk. He confessed his crush on the waitress at the diner across the street, his secret fear of mascots, and that he once paid a kid to pretend to be his little brother so he could use the 'Family Discount' at a buffet.
At one point, Oleg tried to set Han up with a woman who claimed to be a model. She might have been—for a magazine called People You Shouldn't Lend Money To. Han, horrified, hid behind Caroline, insisting he wasn't ready for that kind of commitment.
Max laughed so hard she nearly fell off her stool. "Relax, Han. She'd probably just take you for a ride. Literally. I think she drives a cab."
By the end of the night, Han was curled up in a booth, clutching an empty basket of fries like a teddy bear. Oleg had disappeared, possibly to "negotiate" with a woman who looked like she could bench press him.
Caroline covered Han with her jacket. "We should get him home. He's going to be so embarrassed tomorrow."
Max sighed, pulling out her phone. "I'll call an Uber. Think he'll remember any of this?"
Caroline shook her head. "God, I hope not."
Han was still slumped in the booth, snoring lightly and clutching an empty fry basket like it was a life raft. Caroline had draped her jacket over him, and Max was scrolling through her phone, debating whether to call an Uber or a priest.
Oleg reappeared from the shadows, grinning like a cat who'd found a particularly dumb mouse. "Good news, my friends! I have found the perfect woman for Han!"
Max looked up, raising an eyebrow. "Perfect, huh? Does she know her way around a Lego set and enjoy organizing napkins by size?"
Oleg ignored her, gesturing grandly to the doorway. Standing there was a woman who looked like she'd seen everything life had to offer—and sent most of it back to the kitchen. She wore leopard print leggings, a faux fur coat, and had hair teased so high it might interfere with air traffic.
"Her name is Gina," Oleg announced proudly. "She is 51, experienced, and best of all, she says she'll do it for free."
Caroline's eyes widened. "Do what for free?"
Gina sauntered over, her voice like a raspy old jukebox. "Whatever the little guy needs, sugar. I'm just here to help out a friend of Oleg's." She gave them all a wink that seemed to take real effort.
Max snorted into her drink. "Oh my God, is this really happening?"
Oleg nudged Han, who snorted awake, looking around with the confusion of a man who'd fallen asleep in a dive bar and woken up in an episode of a reality show called Surprise Cougars.
"Han, meet Gina," Oleg said, his grin practically criminal. "She is very friendly."
Gina leaned over, her perfume arriving several seconds before she did. "Hey there, handsome. You look like you could use a little company."
Han squinted at her, his vision still vodka-flavored and blurry. "Are... are you my fairy godmother?"
Max burst out laughing. "Well, she might be granting you a wish tonight."
Caroline smacked Max on the arm. "Stop it! He's too drunk for this!"
Oleg waved a hand. "Nonsense! Gina is just going to sit with him. Maybe hold his hand. Maybe tell him a bedtime story."
Gina nodded sagely. "Yeah, I'm great at bedtime stories. Once upon a time, a sweet little guy like you needed a warm hug and maybe a little snuggle—"
Caroline jumped in. "Nope! Nope! No snuggling! How about we just focus on getting Han home safely?"
Han, still dazed, gave Gina a loopy smile. "You smell like my grandma's house. But, like, in a good way."
Max nearly fell off her stool. "Oh my God, this is the best night ever."
Caroline shot Oleg a look. "You can't just hand him over to some random woman! What if he wakes up tomorrow and freaks out?"
Oleg shrugged. "Then he wakes up happy. And Gina is a professional. She worked in hospitality."
Gina winked. "Motel 6, baby. Three stars and a revolving door of opportunity."
Caroline pinched the bridge of her nose. "We are going to hell."
Max giggled. "But at least the ride down will be hilarious."
Han let out a small sigh, his head resting against Gina's shoulder. "You're really nice... You remind me of my aunt. She makes the best cookies."
Gina patted his head. "Oh, sweetie, I make a mean cookie too. And if you're a good boy, maybe I'll let you have a taste."
Max choked on her drink. Caroline's soul left her body for a moment.
Oleg gave a thumbs-up. "See? It is meant to be!"
Caroline threw up her hands. "Okay, that's it. We're calling an Uber. Come on, Han. Time to go home."
Gina pouted, but Han was already falling back asleep. "Aww, too bad. But if he changes his mind, I'm usually at the Rusty Mug on Wednesdays. It's dollar wing night."
Max leaned over to Caroline as they helped Han up. "Honestly, that's a pretty good deal. Chicken wings and a new aunt-in-law?"
Caroline shot her a look. "Not. Helping."
Oleg waved as they hauled Han out the door. "Goodnight, my friends! And remember, love comes in all shapes and ages!"
As they bundled Han into the backseat of the Uber, Max looked over at Caroline. "You think he'll remember any of this?"
Caroline groaned. "God, I hope not."
The Uber driver raised an eyebrow. "So... rough night?"
Max snorted. "You have no idea."
And as they pulled away from The Rusty Mug, Max glanced back at Oleg, who was now trying to serenade Gina with a rendition of Total Eclipse of the Heart.
Caroline sighed. "We really need to make new friends."
Max grinned. "Yeah, but where's the fun in that?"
And with that, they drove off into the night, their little group of misfits surviving another day and probably causing a few more therapy sessions along the way.
...
[Max's apartment]
After dropping Han at his house, Max and Caroline returned to their apartment.
Caroline had already collapsed onto her folding bed, muttering something about tequila and emotionally scarring conversations. Within seconds, her soft snores filled the tiny space, muffled by the wall of clothes hanging from the makeshift wardrobe that doubled as a room divider.
Max shuffled into the kitchen, pulling a box of dollar-store kibble from the cabinet. "Alright, Chestnut, dinner is served," she said, pouring the dry food into a chipped bowl. Their horse, Chestnut, poked his head through the window from the alleyway, giving her a grateful snort before munching away.
"Living the dream, big guy," Max whispered, giving him a scratch behind the ear before locking the window.
She padded back to her room, the floor creaking beneath her feet. Her bedroom, or the glorified closet she called her room, was a mess of mismatched blankets, an old lamp with a beaded shade, and the kind of clutter that made you wonder if the floor even existed. She locked the door behind her, a habit born from years of chaos, and flopped onto her bed with a sigh.
Her mind raced, replaying the events of the day—the debts paid off, Han's drunken confessions, Oleg's terrifying idea of matchmaking. But above all, a certain blue-eyed billionaire kept sneaking into her thoughts.
Max rolled onto her side, yanking open the drawer of her bedside table. She reached in, brushing past an emergency candy bar and a small can of pepper spray, until her fingers found it... the card.
It was simple, just his name, "Alex Wilson," and a phone number embossed in silver. The card was worn at the edges from the number of times she'd taken it out, stared at it, and put it back without dialing.
But tonight, something felt different. She was debt-free. She had a bakery on the horizon. And maybe, just maybe, she was done pretending she didn't care.
"Okay, Max," she muttered to herself. "It's just a phone call. Not like he's gonna answer anyway. He's probably halfway across the world doing... rich-people things. Like buying islands or making fun of peasants."
Her thumb hovered over the call button. She bit her lip, nerves, and tequila battling for dominance. Then, with a sudden rush of courage, or recklessness, she hit the button and pressed the phone to her ear.
It rang once.
Twice.
On the third ring, a voice came through, smooth and clear despite the distance. "Max?"
She froze, her tongue tangled in a knot of uncertainty. "Uh... hey."
--
AN: Yeah, yeah, I know. Abrupt ending, but I'm too sleepy lol. And I don't want to mess up their conversation. See ya tomorrow.
AN: Just finished writing. So, if you find any mistakes, please point out because this is one of the biggest conversation I have ever written.
Words: Over 3k
--
Max lay sprawled on her tiny bed, one leg hanging off the edge, staring at the ceiling as if it might offer her life advice. Her thumb hovered over the phone screen, Alex Wilson's name staring back at her. She muttered to herself, "You've fought rats for leftover cheesecake, Max. You can handle this."
With a deep breath and a generous helping of reckless abandon, she tapped the call button. It rang, and with every ring, her courage waned. On the third ring, the call connected.
"Max?" His voice came through, smooth and warm, with just a hint of surprise.
Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. She made a weird noise that sounded suspiciously like a dying seagull. Clearing her throat, she finally managed, "Uh... hey, Moneybags. Did I wake you up? Or are you too rich to sleep like a normal person?"
A soft chuckle. "I do occasionally sleep, but not right now. It's four in the afternoon here."
Max blinked. "Four in the afternoon? Are you in Narnia? Where the hell are you?"
"Tokyo."
"Tokyo? What are you doing over there? Buying the whole city? Or maybe you're building a secret lair under Mount Fuji?" She grinned, settling into the conversation now that the initial awkwardness had passed.
Alex's voice remained smooth, a hint of amusement playing in his tone. "Not quite. I'm here for my next movie. Scouting locations, finalizing contracts, you know, director stuff."
"Wow, look at you. Big-shot director in Tokyo. Do they know you're just a charming con man with a penchant for saving broke girls?"
"If you're the broke girl in question, I consider it a good investment," he quipped back.
Max rolled onto her side, a smirk curling her lips. "So, what's the movie? Something artsy and deep, or are you finally making 'Lucy's Cherry: Still Young, Still Tight'?"
"Not quite," he said, the sound of ice clinking in a glass coming through the line. "I'm directing a film set in Tokyo, kind of a love letter to the city. It's called Lost in Translation. Tom Hanks and Scarlett Johansson are in it."
Max's jaw dropped. "You're working with Tom Hanks? I didn't even know he was real. I thought he was just America's imaginary best friend."
'What the fuck am I even saying?' She wondered, but with a smile.
"He's very real. And a genuinely nice guy, unlike someone who keeps calling me Moneybags."
"Hey, you earned that nickname when you bought me a whole bakery without even blinking. Do you know what I had for dinner before that? Ramen. The fifteen-cent kind that comes with a flavor packet labeled 'Salt and Regret.'"
"Well, now you can afford the kind that has actual vegetables in it," he teased.
Max snorted. "Please. Vegetables are just a myth made up by health nuts. Anyway, how's Tokyo? Are you eating sushi off a model's stomach or doing something equally billionaire-y?"
Alex chuckled. "Are you offering, Max? Because I can clear my schedule for that kind of dining experience."
Max bit back a laugh. "Oh, please. You couldn't handle me as a sushi platter. You'd get too distracted. One California roll on the belly button, and you'd be a goner."
"That's a bold assumption," he teased. "I've got excellent focus. I could probably balance a whole sashimi boat on you and still keep my cool."
Max rolled onto her back, holding the phone above her. "You talk a big game, Moneybags. But let me tell you, I'm a lot to handle. Not just anybody can appreciate this fine dining experience."
"Oh, I have no doubt. You're like the world's spiciest tuna roll—delicious but probably dangerous."
"Probably?" She smirked. "Baby, I'm definitely dangerous. The kind of girl who orders extra wasabi just to watch people sweat."
"Noted. I'll make sure to have some milk on standby if we ever share a meal."
Max twirled a strand of her hair, staring at the ceiling with a lazy grin. "Milk, huh? Are you afraid of a little heat, Moneybags?"
"Not at all," Alex's voice was smooth. "I just like to be prepared. You seem like the kind of girl who'd dare me to eat the spiciest thing on the menu, and I'm not about to back down."
Max snorted. "Please, I'd make you sign a waiver first. I once ate wings so hot the waiter had to sign a non-disclosure agreement just to bring them to the table."
"I'm not surprised. You probably eat ghost peppers for breakfast and wash them down with sarcasm."
"That's pretty close. I add a side of poor life choices, and boom, balanced diet."
"Well, as long as those choices involve bakeries and billionaires, I'd say you're doing just fine."
Max bit her lip, a warm flutter spreading through her chest. "You really think this bakery thing is gonna work out?"
"I don't invest in things I don't believe in," he said, his tone softening. "And I believe in you, Max. You've got talent and guts, even if your business plan is scribbled on the back of a napkin."
"Hey! I'll have you know it was a very clean napkin. Only one ketchup stain."
Alex laughed, and the sound made her toes curl. "Well, when I get back, I expect to see this place up and running. I want to walk in, demand a cupcake, and watch you roll your eyes at me like a real CEO."
Max grinned. "Oh, I'll do more than that. I'll name a cupcake after you. Something rich and delicious but with a hint of bitterness—like a dark chocolate espresso."
"Is that a compliment or an insult?"
"Depends. Are you gonna order one?"
"I might. If it comes with a side of you serving it to me in a cute apron."
Max leaned back against her headboard, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. "Oh, I'll wear an apron. But only an apron. You know, for that real authentic bakery experience... in somewhere private."
Alex chuckled. "Careful, Max. I might take you up on that. You offering a full-service bakery now?"
She snorted. "Absolutely. I'll even frost my natural cupcakes just for you. You like vanilla or chocolate? Wait! Maybe one one each?"
There was a beat of silence, and then his laughter came through, warm and genuine. "I gotta say, that's a tempting offer. Though I'm more of a salted caramel kind of guy—sweet with a bit of a bite."
Max rolled her eyes. "Oh, look at you, all fancy with your bougie flavor preferences. I bet you're the kind of guy who orders artisanal coffee and insists it be brewed at a specific temperature."
"Only if the temperature is just right for a snarky brunette to serve it to me. Preferably while throwing in a few insults to keep me humble."
Max smirked, running her fingers through her hair. "Well, I'm pretty good at serving up sass with a side of sarcasm. You might have to leave a big tip, though. I charge extra for charm."
"I think I can manage that. Though, knowing you, you'd probably find a way to turn that tip into a joke about my... finances."
She let out a dramatic gasp. "Oh no, Moneybags, I'd never make fun of your... assets. Unless, of course, you start throwing dollar bills at me. Then I'm legally obligated to start a dance routine."
Alex's voice dropped to a playful tone. "Well, if you're taking requests, I'd like to see the sprinkler. Maybe the shopping cart."
Max laughed so hard she nearly dropped her phone. "Wow. You want all my signature moves in one performance? You're gonna have to shell out big for that. I don't break out the shopping cart for just anyone."
"Consider it an investment. I always bet on talent."
She softened at that, his words settling in a way that made her stomach do a weird, fluttery thing. "You know, you keep saying that. I might start to believe you actually mean it."
"I do, Max. I wouldn't have invested in you if I didn't."
Max swallowed, her voice dropping a bit. "Well, just so you know, I'm not used to this whole 'people believing in me' thing. Usually, they just believe I'll probably spill something or set something on fire."
"I believe that, too. I'm just hoping you only set the world on fire in a good way."
She rolled her eyes, but her smile was soft. "Ugh, you just had to go and be sweet. Now I'm gonna have to call you something other than Moneybags. Like... Sweetbags? No, that sounds terrible. Maybe Sir Compliments-a-Lot?"
Alex chuckled. "I'm okay with Moneybags. It sounds better than Mr. Frost-Your-Cupcakes."
Max cackled. "Alright, you win. But if I catch you hanging around my bakery with frosting and a glint in your eye, I'm calling the cops."
"I'll be on my best behavior," he said, his voice warm. "Unless, of course, you're asking me not to be."
Max's grin widened. "Oh, behave yourself, Moneybags. Tokyo might be a whole time zone away, but I can still kick your ass with words."
"I have no doubt about that."
Silence settled between them, not uncomfortable but full of possibilities. Max found herself tracing circles on her blanket, her mind wandering to what it would be like when he came back.
"So," she spoke, the word hanging in the air. "When are you coming back to New York? Not that I care. I mean, I do care, but not in a 'staring-out-the-window, tragically-waiting' kind of way. More like... a 'just wondering if I should shave my legs' kind of way."
Alex's chuckle came through, soft and warm. "Well, for the record, I miss you too. And, funny enough, I actually dreamt about you last night."
Max's eyes widened. "Oh? Was I kicking your ass or just being generally amazing?"
"A little of both," he said smoothly. "You were yelling at me about not mixing cupcake batter properly, and then somehow it turned into a karaoke battle. You won, obviously."
Max snorted. "As I should. I bring serious heat to 'Bohemian Rhapsody.' You have to commit to all the voices, otherwise, what's the point?"
"Exactly. You were doing all the parts—the high notes, the guitar solo, even the opera bit. It was... impressive. Terrifying, but impressive."
She grinned. "That's my brand. Impressive and terrifying. I should put that on my business cards."
"I could make that happen. You know, in case you want to start a side hustle as a motivational speaker for kids who enjoy sarcasm and light chaos."
Max rolled onto her back, staring at the peeling ceiling paint. "Hey, I motivate. Just today, I motivated Caroline to stop alphabetizing our pantry and come out for a drink. And by motivate, I mean I threatened to start throwing cans of beans at her."
Alex's laughter was infectious. "I'd pay to see that. Actually, I'd pay to see you, period. How about it? You feel like taking a quick trip to Tokyo?"
Max sat up so fast she nearly launched herself off the bed. "Wait, what? Like, actually? You want me to come to Tokyo?"
"Why not? I've got a plane heading back this way tomorrow. It's a quick turnaround... two to three days, tops. You can bring Caroline, too. Consider it a mini vacation before the bakery madness begins."
Her brain short-circuited for a second. "A private plane? Are you kidding? Do they have those little fancy soaps in the bathroom and, like, endless snacks?"
"Endless snacks, fully reclining seats, and I might even let you pick the in-flight movie. Though I should warn you, I draw the line at watching 'Sharknado' sequels."
Max's mouth opened and closed like a fish. "Oh my God. I could be on a plane to Tokyo tomorrow. Me. In Tokyo. With sushi that isn't served in a plastic tray from a gas station. I need a minute."
Alex waited patiently while Max did a silent, wiggly dance on her bed, all while trying not to scream. Finally, she regained some semblance of composure. "Okay. I'm in. I mean, I gotta ask Caroline... Give me a sec..."
She jumped down from the bed and dashed out of the room.
...
Max burst into Caroline's "room"—a glorified corner sectioned off by a floral shower curtain. Caroline lay sprawled on her fold-out bed, an eye mask askew and a half-eaten granola bar stuck to her cheek.
"Wake up, Blondie!" Max hissed, shaking Caroline's shoulder. "Emergency!"
Caroline bolted upright, the eye mask flying off. "Oh my God! Is it the rats again? Did Chestnut get into the trash? Are we on fire?!"
Max slapped her phone onto the bed, putting it on loudspeaker. "Nope! Better! Alex just invited us to Tokyo. Like, right now. Well, tomorrow, technically, but still—Tokyo!"
A smooth, amused voice came through the phone. "Should I call back later, or is this a good time?"
Caroline's eyes widened as she recognized the voice. "Wait... Alex?"
"The one and only," Alex replied, his tone warm. "And yes, the offer's real. My plane leaves tomorrow. You in?"
Caroline's brain visibly buffered. "Tokyo? As in the actual Japan? With sushi, cherry blossoms, and... oh my God, do they have those cafes where you pet owls?"
Max grinned, nudging Caroline. "See? I told you it was real. We could be eating sushi that doesn't come from a gas station."
Caroline blinked, still trying to process. "But we can't just drop everything and go! We've got the flyers coming in tomorrow and the promotions... We need to build hype so intense, even hipsters will show up ironically!"
Max's shoulders slumped. "Right. The flyers. They're supposed to be delivered tomorrow. Ugh, I forgot."
Caroline sat up, her hair a tangled mess of curls and confusion. "And who's gonna hand them out if we're halfway around the world? You know I don't trust Sophie with this. She'd add glitter and tell everyone we're a 'Cupcake Cult'."
Max sighed dramatically. "And if we're not here, who's going to promote the grand opening? We need lines so long people think we're giving out free money or at least free Wi-Fi."
"I can handle that," Alex's voice cut in, still on speaker. "I'll hire a street team to distribute the flyers. They'll plaster every corner of New York with them. You'll be trending by lunch."
Caroline's mouth opened and closed like a fish. "You can... do that? Just like that?"
Alex chuckled. "Yes, Caroline. I know people who know people. I'll make sure your bakery has more buzz than a beehive on espresso."
Max shot Caroline a look. "See? No problem. Our sugar daddy got all covered. We can go to Tokyo, eat real sushi, and not stress about the bakery. We just gotta say yes."
Caroline hesitated. "But it feels wrong. We can't just let you fix everything for us. It's our business. We need to earn it."
"Trust me," Alex said, his tone softening. "This isn't about taking over. It's just a little support. Besides, you've already done the hard part. You believed in it enough to get this far. Let me handle the flyers. You two deserve a break because once the business starts you won't get time to breathe."
Max bit her lip, her resolve weakening. "Caroline... He's right. We've been busting our butts. Maybe it's okay to accept help when it's offered."
Caroline sighed, glancing between Max and the phone. "I don't know... It just feels too easy. Like when a deal sounds too good to be true, and then you find out it's a timeshare in New Jersey."
"Look," Alex said, "I'll hire a professional PR team. They'll make sure your grand opening is the event of the year. All you have to do is enjoy Tokyo and come back ready to bake your hearts out."
Max's eyes lit up. "See? This is why I like him. He speaks my language: free stuff and stress-free plans."
Caroline let out a small laugh. "Okay, fine. But only if you promise this isn't a charity thing. We want to earn our success."
"Agreed," Alex replied. "No charity. Just a smart investment. And if it makes you feel better, I'll even buy a dozen cupcakes on opening day at full price."
Max snorted. "Oh, big spender! What's next? Tipping us with real cash instead of those chocolate coins from Hanukkah?"
Alex laughed. "I'll see what I can do. So, should I send a car to pick you up tomorrow?"
Caroline's eyes widened. "A car? Like, a real one? Not just an Uber with good air freshener? Oops. Sorry. It's been a while since I rode a good car..."
"Of course," Alex said smoothly. "It'll have snacks, drinks, and Wi-Fi. You'll be at the airport in style."
Max threw her hands up. "We're in! Pack your bags, Blondie! We're going to Tokyo!"
Caroline still looked hesitant. "But what if something goes wrong? What if the flyers have a typo and we end up advertising 'Crapcakes' instead of 'Cupcakes'?"
Alex's voice turned serious. "Caroline, I promise. I'll make sure everything goes smoothly. Your bakery will open with a bang. I'll even have someone double-check the spelling. Trust me."
Max reached out, grabbing Caroline's hand. "C'mon. When was the last time we did something fun? Something just for us? Here's our chance."
Caroline looked at their joined hands, then at the phone. "Okay. Let's do it."
Max whooped, nearly bouncing off the bed. "Yes! Tokyo, baby!"
Alex's voice, still clear through the speaker, held a smile. "Great. I'll handle everything on this end. You two just get some rest and pack. It's a long flight, but I promise it'll be worth it."
...
The two girls forgot their sleep and...
Max sat cross-legged on her bed, tossing random clothes into an old duffel bag while Caroline neatly folded hers into a pristine suitcase. The contrast was like watching a raccoon pack for a vacation next to a Marie Kondo disciple.
Max held up a T-shirt with a suspicious stain. "Do you think this is ketchup or blood? Either way, it's probably fine, right?"
Caroline groaned. "Max, for the love of God, please pack like a human being. We're going to Tokyo, not a zombie apocalypse."
Max smirked, tossing the shirt in. "What's the difference? Either way, I'm gonna eat my way through it and make questionable decisions."
"I can't believe we're going to Tokyo," Caroline muttered, staring at her suitcase like it might bite her. "I don't even own luggage. What if I show up at the airport with a trash bag full of clothes? They'll think I'm a runaway."
Max tossed a crumpled t-shirt into her own duffel bag. "Relax. We'll be fine. We just need to pack the essentials. Underwear, toothpaste, and a passport. Everything else is just window dressing."
Caroline squinted at her. "A passport? Do you even know where yours is?"