#112: Fallen: Fire and Redemption - World Peace and a Blowjob
***Violet***
I woke up to sunlight coming through the new window of the new house where I lived with my... boyfriend? partner?
Julian Kauer.
And I was still pissed at him.
No point pretending I wasn’t. The image of that fake-model blonde walking through the door while I was wrapped in a see-through robe, surrounded by figs, salami, and sexual intent like I was Samantha from Sex and The City was still burned into my retina. A gourmet humiliation. But more than the anger or the embarrassment, what really hurt was the waste. The time. The prep. The brand-new panties he didn’t rip off me like I’d planned.
Damn, those panties cost me half a day’s work. And they were itchy.
And the worst part? I wanted to forgive him—actually, I already had, right? Not because he deserved it—because he absolutely didn’t after not even telling me she was coming—but because he’s annoyingly charming. And because last night, after Mallory left with an “I think I’d better go” and that polite smile, he looked at me like I was his last meal. Not the romantic kind. The kind that bites and tears into flesh out of pure addiction.
He tried. Subtly. In that reformed-bad-boy kind of way. And I hated how close I was to giving in.
“Gonna waste this amazing platter, Vi? I doubt you’re not hungry…” he asked, biting a slice of prosciutto like he was in an underwear commercial.
“It’s for men who don’t bring mysterious blondes home for dinner, Julian.” I said, contradicting myself just before I shoved a piece of cheese into his mouth.
He laughed. That cocky laugh you hate to love. And even then, I grabbed a fig and shoved it between his lips. Then I licked them like nothing happened. A little reminder: you still want this. But you’ll have to wait.
I could’ve given in. But... it wasn’t the moment. I wanted our first time here to be ours. No third party, no resentment, no weird vibes.
The next morning was less catastrophic. After all that chaos, we finally had a glimpse of what could be a normal life.
Julian woke up before the alarm we didn’t even own. I heard him clanking pots in the kitchen and almost got up to yell. But when the smell of fresh orange juice and melted cheese drifted into the bedroom, I let myself pretend things were okay.
I went downstairs and found him at the back kitchen door, holding two trays.
“Breakfast in the garden, madam?”
“What do you want?”
“World peace and maybe a blowjob, but right now I’ll settle for a second chance.”
He knew how to be annoyingly sweet and relentlessly dirty. I liked to pretend I wasn’t worse than him—just hadn’t shown my claws yet.
“And where’s the peace treaty?”
“In the cheese bread.”
We laughed, ate the amazing breakfast, and that’s how we started the day planting a garden in the backyard. My idea, by the way. I have good ideas.
Not just any garden. A couple’s garden. With basil, rosemary, mint, thyme… and a sweaty Julian with his shirt tied around his head like a 2000s boyband reject. A delicious sight to watch.
“This is gonna make a lot of pesto,” he said, digging with way more force than necessary.
“You just want to fill the fridge so you can pretend you’re organized.”
“I wanna make a ravioli with mint sauce that’ll make you come from the first bite.” He was losing it—two out of every three sentences had some sexual undertone. I kinda loved driving him that crazy.
“You say that every time you cook, and honestly, I’m still waiting on that culinary orgasm.”
“Am I disappointing you?” he asked in that low voice that melts me, without even looking directly at me, but knowing I was laughing.
“You still have a chance to redeem yourself.”
He walked over and wiped dirt off my nose with his thumb. I slapped his hand away and then guided it to my chest. Let him feel it. Then let go right away. Just enough to make him dizzy while I thought about when we’d get another moment like this.
“Mallory, huh?” I blurted out, trying to ignore the earthworms and focus on the seeds.
“Really? You wanna talk about that now? We’re working on our peace garden. After our peace cheese.”
“I just wanna know if I need to go full intimidating girlfriend or if you’re loyal to your girl. She’s hot, right?”
“Seriously?”
“Just asking. It’s a fact. Factual data.”
“I’m in love with you, Violet. And if I was into executive Barbie types, I wouldn’t have looked twice at you when you walked into my restaurant with those filthy Converse and that ‘I’m gonna stab you with a fork’ face.”
“So romantic. Really boosting my self-esteem.”
“I’m saying you’re one of a kind.”
And... I got shy.
He noticed and went back to digging, all proud of himself.
“And I didn’t want her to come over last night, okay? She insisted. Said she had to meet you. I should’ve warned you. I was an idiot. I know. But you... you looked so hot, so gorgeous…”
“You really think so? Didn’t seem like it.”
“I was turned on, Violet. Like, real, painful kind of turned on. But you looked so pissed I thought I was gonna get slapped. And a slap before sex isn’t exactly my kink—but during? I might consider it.”
“Maybe you deserve it. Bad boy.”
“Oh, I agree… But I’d rather earn your forgiveness. And maybe, at some point, be devoured by you the way I’ve dreamed since I saw your lacy panties halfway up your ass.”
I threw a handful of dirt at him.
“Plant the damn rosemary already.”
We spent the whole morning working on the garden. He made juices, brought snacks, treated me like I was made of glass—but looked at me like he wanted to break it with his teeth.
I was still mad. A little. But I was also laughing. Feeling. Thinking that maybe… maybe he really was committed with his heart, not just his dick. We worked in chaos. That’s where we found each other.
So, at the end of the day, when he threw me on the couch still dirty from the garden and said he wanted to taste my exhaustion, I didn’t stop him… I wanted it just as bad.
But I didn’t let it happen either.
I just said, “Later, Kauer. First, we eat. Then… maybe you get your second chance.”
And the smile he gave me was enough to make me realize, yeah, I was still mad.
But I was also completely in love.