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"No, I don’t, and I hate it when you call me doll."
"You do?" He frowns.
"Yes, and I’ve told you so many times. And still, you insist on using that stupid term of endearment."
His face falls. "I didn’t mean to upset you."
"Well, you did." I’m being uncharitable. It’s not his fault that I haven’t felt like sleeping with him in a while. Stress at work, combined with the worry of keeping a roof over our heads... I’m just so wrung out. And being here is a temporary solution, at best.
He could have helped, of course, but I knew what I was getting into with him. Isaac’s anti-establishment, anti-system, and hates rules. No wonder, because he’s spent most of his life rebelling against his father. I don’t need to be a shrink to figure that out. And it’s part of what attracted me to him, especially because I had been so focused on making something of myself. So, his easygoing nature had come as a relief. That is, until I was faced with the mountain of bills, and he remained carefree and irresponsible. Of course, I could have asked my parents for help, and they would have helped, but they’re not well-off. I have two siblings who are still in university, and my parents are paying part of their tuition. I refused their help with my school bills, and took out a loan instead. Another bill. So, the only way out is to rely on Isaac’s father for a little while, just until I get back on my feet.
"I’m sorry, Lena. I’ve been a terrible boyfriend, haven’t I? But I promise, I’ll make it up to you."
"I know you will." I lean up and kiss his cheek. "Now, I’m going to shower, then get something to eat. Do you want something?"
5
JJ
A sound reaches me. I glance up from the spreadsheet I was studying. Did it come from outside the study? I pull out the drawer on my right, grab my gun, and slide it in the waistband of my pants. The fire my housekeeper built up earlier has all but died down. The glow from the embers fills the space with a warm orange light. What time is it, anyway? I rise to my feet and creep to the doorway. The corridor is silent. I pause, my muscles tensing. The hair on the back of my neck rises. There’s someone out there. I pull out my gun and cock it, then keeping close to the wall, I prowl down the corridor—past the living room and the conservatory, the dining room, and toward the kitchen. The sound of someone moving around reaches me. I curl my finger around the trigger of the gun and move forward, reach the kitchen, and slip inside. I point my gun in the direction of the sound and freeze.
She’s bent over, taking something out of the fridge. Her perfect pear-shaped bottom stretches the shorts she’s wearing so I can see the plump cheeks of her arse. As I watch, she wriggles it to one side, then the other, then the other way again. The sound of her humming reaches me. A tune I can’t identify. She continues to bop that fleshy backside, swinging to a rhythm I can’t hear. Then she straightens, and bursts into song,"Whenever, wherever, hmmmmmm, mmm, I’ll be there, you’ll be here... and mmmmmmm—"She arches her back, thrusts out her butt, and shimmies it.
The blood drains to my groin. My cock thickens. I watch, fascinated, as she launches into a full body sway, doing some kind of action that has her arse wriggling around like it has a life of its own. Sweat beads my forehead. Heat flushes my skin. My thigh muscles harden and my stomach clenches. The crotch of my pants is suddenly too tight for me. I take a step forward, then another, until I’m halfway across the kitchen. I can’t tear my gaze off that luscious backside.
"Tada tedium, ahahahah, tada, tadum. I’ll be there and you’ll be—"She turns around, holding a bucket of ice cream, with a spoon in the other hand.
I jerk my chin up to her face in time to see her gaze widen. Liquid gold eyes. Like the most expensive whiskey. No, like melting chocolate and— She screams, the spoon slips from her hand and crashes to the floor. I blink, follow the direction of her gaze to see I’m still holding the gun. I instantly engage the safety and pocket it. I glance up just as the bowl of food tips over.
I close the distance between us, slip on the patch of ice cream on the floor, and lurch forward, crashing into her. The bowl of food upends its contents on me, then crashes to the floor. The tub of ice cream slips from her hands and bounces off my shoe. That unbalances me more and I lean further into her. The world tilts as we hit the floor. I twist my body at the last moment so I take the full weight of her body. My back hits the floor, and she falls on me. Her elbow wedges into my stomach and I huff. Her breasts flatten into my chest, her pelvis pressed perfectly into my crotch. I bring my palms down to grip her hips, and hold her in place. It’s pure reflex, I swear. By the time I realize I have her fitted into my now completely aroused cock, it’s too late. The warmth of her pussy sinks through the thin fabric of her shorts and envelops my cock.
Jesus-fucking-Christ. My entire body goes on alert. My biceps turn to steel. All my senses hone in on her. She stares down at me, and flickers of silver flash deep in her golden eyes. Her breath hitches, and a pulse flares to life at the base of her throat. Our gazes clash. Something primitive stirs inside of me. Something I didn’t even think existed. A chill runs through my body. My grasp on her hips tightens, and she shudders.
She lowers her head slowly, slowly. Her hot breath sears my cheek, and her nose bumps mine. Her mouth is right over mine. All I have to do is lean up and—something creaks. I glance past her to see the refrigerator door slam shut. The sound ricochets through the space.
I blink. So does she.
The next moment, she pushes against my shoulder. "I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to spill all of my food on you. It’s just, you scared me and—"
"It’s fine. I forgot there was someone else in the house."
"Wha—?" She gapes.
"I thought I was alone." I flip her over on her back, then rise to my feet.
"You forgot Isaac and I were under your roof?" She huffs.
"It would seem that way." I hold out my hand to her.
She ignores it and scrambles up to her feet. We stand there with assorted foodstuffs on my jacket and on her T-shirt. Her very skimpy T-shirt which is currently sticking to her tits. They’re nice breasts, too. Supple and firm, and just right to fill the palms of my hands. As for her nipples? They are diamond hard and currently poking through the fabric of her top. She’s not wearing a bra.
Fuck. She’s not. Wearing. A bra.If I thought I was hard earlier, the sudden clenching of my guts, and the thickness that tents my crotch and threatens to poke through my pants, tells me I was wrong. I resist the urge to adjust myself.
"What were you doing in my kitchen?" I ask in a hard voice that is totally unnecessary and meant more to divert attention away from the blood that seems to have collected between my legs.
"Why do you have a gun?" she retorts.
"I need it to protect myself."
