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What the fuck is he talking about?
“Do I know you?” I ask again, hearing the fear getting worse in my voice. He continues to walk around me, stopping at my side. He leans into me, “I will be seeing you soon, puppet,” he whispers into my ear. He straightens up, turns around, and disappears into the shadows.
I take several steps back, stopping against a hard, firm chest, and hands grip my hips. Christian. My heart skips a beat. He is here. He came. Of course, he came. I quickly turn around, and I jump onto him, wrapping my legs around his waist, my arms around his neck, and shoving my face into his neck.
“Who was that bambino?” He asks in an enraged and jealous voice. That is a good fucking question, and if I knew, I would fucking tell him. Believe that shit. That dude was creepy as fuck.
“I don’t know,” I whisper against his skin. My voice is shaky, and my entire body starts to tremble in his arms.
“What happened?” He asks, wrapping his arms tightly around me, making sure there is no space between us.
“He called me puppet,” I whisper against his skin. I feel his heart racing against my chest as he quickly turns around and heads back towards the casino. I tighten my grip around him, not wanting to let go. I keep my eyes closed. I hear a door open and realize that Christian is getting into the backseat of the car. I am assuming that Ty is driving. The car is already moving, heading to our apartment just a few streets over. Christian says he likes to be close to this casino because of the weapons and drugs. I don’t care where we are as long as we are together.
I know he is going to force me to talk, and I will force myself to tell him because he needs to know, and I need to get it out. I already know what the end result will be. I need to fuck him. I need him to make me forget all of this shit before it completely fucking tears me apart inside. I need him to love me the only way he can. I need to feel his naked skin against mine, and I need to feel his lips against mine and his tongue in my mouth. I need to feel his dick inside me, and I need him to fucking make me scream the only way he fucking can before I lose my fucking shit.
51
Christian
Iset her down on the edge of the bed. Her breathing has calmed down, and her eyes stay on me as I kneel in front of her, resting my hands on her knees. I don’t like that she ran and felt like she couldn’t talk to me. I know Michael did something, but I need to figure out what the fuck he did.
“Why did you run from me, bambino?” I ask softly, looking over her face.
She inhales deeply, “Michael,” she whispers.
Of course, it was fucking Michael. He has always been a pain in my fucking side, loyal but always opening his fucking mouth.
“What did he say to you?” I ask, watching her closely.
Tears build in her eyes as she searches mine. “He told me that I was just a whore, your flavor of the week,” she says softly.
I feel my heart sink into my stomach, and my blood starts to boil as I begin to see red, in part because of Michael and partly because she actually fucking believed him.
“You actually believe that?” I ask, looking into her eyes. She is not a whore, and she sure as fuck not just the flavor of the week; not to me, never fucking to me.
She takes a shaky breath. “N-no…I mean, not now,” she confesses, making my heart skip a beat, I never want her to second guess my feelings for her, and I will do everything in my power to fucking prove to her that what I fucking feel for her is real.
“But when he said it, you did?” I ask softly, hearing the anxiety in my voice.
She slowly nods.
I stand up, my legs shaky, and I run my hands through my hair. I look down at her, and her eyes are locked on me.
“I don’t know why he said that, but it isn’t true,” I say confidently. If she were just my whore I would have fucking told her just that, but she isn’t. I have told her what she is to me and made it clear to everyone in my life what she is. Michael is constantly fucking doing shit to start shit.
“I know,” she whispers with confidence. I can hear the shame and guilt in her tone.
“Why didn’t you just ask me Nicolette?”I ask as calmly as I can. I don’t like her doubting who she is to me.
“I was scared,” she admits, making my heart sink again. My stomach twists into knots as the three words run over and over inside my head.
“Why? Of me?” I ask, needing to know.
“Yes, kinda. I-I mean scared that what he was saying was true,” she confesses.
I sigh, I have never done the relationship thing with fucking anyone, so this is not just new to her. We are both fucking trying to figure this shit out. “I don’t know what else I can do to show you that what I feel for you is real. Just tell me what you need me to do,” I say softly. Whatever she needs me to do to fucking reassure her that she is mine and I am hers, I will fucking do it.
She doesn’t respond as I kneel back down in front of her and lift my hands, cupping her face and forcing her to look at me.
