There were parts of the cupboards they'd never reached before.
"We could still get a cleaner," Eliot suggested.
Cass rocked back on her heels, dark curls dust-streaked and flying in all directions. "They wouldn't know what stuff's ours."
"Our valuables, right."
She swiped his leg, "there are things here I'd like to keep. Mostly you."
"Afraid they'd sweep me up?"
Their lack of possessions was a standing joke. They'd met in a place they didn't live; conducted a relationship in airport lounges, hotel rooms, train stations. Moving out of their first house was bittersweet, even if it was just a rental. Part of her was turned on - like she always was - by new possibilities, new places to explore. But there was something about this domesticity -
"Have you taken the bedroom boxes out?"
"Yep."
Cass dove into the cupboard. She knew he'd be watching the ripe curve of her bum in the worn skinny jeans, so she gave a little wiggle. Leaning down he smacked her lightly.
"You want a drink?"
She did, but she also wanted to get the job done. She'd moved so many times it had become a ritual. Once you start, keep moving until every shelf and drawer is empty, every suitcase full, everything in between stuffed in black bags and carried to a dumpster. Moving wasn't time for fooling around.
"Honey?"
"Let me get this done first," she said, voice muffled by the chipboard cupboard doors.
Eliot opened the fridge. She heard a bottle-top pop. "I'll clean the bathroom."
Cass crouched amidst a pile of yellowed Tupperware and mismatched dishes to watch him leave, eyes skimming the familiar lines of his broad shoulders and rippling arms. She lingered on his ass, imagined squeezing, feeling its firm contours beneath her fingers.
"Love you."
"Love you too."
Two years ago she expected none of this. Cass enjoyed the occasional fling when someone caught her eye but she wasn't looking for a relationship. Then Eliot crashed through her atmosphere and rocked the planet out of orbit. For the first time, she'd throw caution aside and followed her gut. Despite some bumps, she never had reason to doubt or second-guess. Everything they did together felt like a piece of something bigger, like it mattered.
It was the kind of 24-caret love story she scoffed at as corny, but it was happening to her, and it felt better than she'd dared imagine. For the first time in her adult life she was moving with someone.
Cass plunged back into the cupboard, extracting odds and ends. She was at the right age to "settle down" but she'd never thought like that. Her life was rich and exciting. She wasn't looking for someone. But Eliot found her and he was too good to resist. She smiled, he was more than good.
On their first date he kissed her till her knees buckled - which took about 10 seconds. He could make her melt like butter on a hot plate. Cass's pussy twitched as she thought about their first night together. Instinctively she pressed her thighs together, the thick seams of her jeans creating a pleasant friction at her crotch. There was the time he bent her over the hood of his car and alternated spanking and thrusting till her cum gushed down her legs.
Grabbing the final item she retreated from the cupboard, breathing hard.
"What's that?" Eliot set his empty bottle on the counter. "Upstairs bathroom is done."
"A crock-pot, I think. Vintage. Check out this cord."
Eliot came over and rubbed the woven fabric of the electrical extension between his thumb and forefinger. "Like bondage rope."
"Shall we try it?" Cass blurted.
