“You have a lot of TV spaces,” I commented, just trying to say anything to help ease the tension, walking past her as she ushered me in.
She smiled slightly as she paused in the doorway. “Yes, well, this is one of the main rooms my husband and I use when we have company over,” she admitted.
I looked at her in surprise as I turned to face her, glancing over my shoulder at the couches. “You mean…” My voice trailed off.
She nodded, garnering my attention again. “Yes, usually my husband takes one couch, while I take the other with whatever hot stud I’ve brought home. Lots of fun happens in here. And it’s pretty soundproof, so we can speak freely without being heard.”
Damn, I didn’t know how to respond to that. “I…I see,” I managed after a second.
She continued. “Now, if you’ll just wait a moment, I actually need to pee really fast, and will be right back.”
All I could do was nod again, feeling awkward about being in this room when she closed the door, leaving me alone. I could hear just fine though, listening to her slip off to her bedroom, only to enter into the master bathroom and pee just like she said. She then opened a few drawers, with it sounding like she was brushing some of her red curly hair a little, before returning.
When she opened the door, I realized she’d put her thick red hair up in a high ponytail, which shockingly emphasized her gorgeous angular face even more, making her seem as if she’d changed outfits, even though her clothing was the same.
Dammit, she was so fucking hot.
I wanted to fuck Gabriella’s mom so bad right now.
However, as she stepped inside the room, and closed the door behind her, she then leaned against the exit, instead of continuing on further.
She didn’t say anything at all, just examining me quietly while I stood there, looking like the bustiest and hottest fucking model on the planet.
After a second, I cleared my throat, averting my gaze when I recalled what she might want to discuss. “So, umm, what did you want to talk about?” I asked hesitantly, glancing at her briefly and then looking away again.
She frowned at that, remaining silent for what quickly became a painful handful of seconds. After what felt like forever, she spoke. “On a scale of one to ten, how much do you care about that girl downstairs? Your sister, Serenity.”
I looked at her in surprise, completely shocked that she was asking me this, of all things. “Oh, umm, ten,” I replied hesitantly.
She inclined her chin slowly, seeming to stare me down like she was peering into my very soul. “And on a scale of one to ten, how much did you enjoy fucking me last night?”
I gawked at her, again totally shocked. “Ten,” I replied confidently, after having paused for only a second. “Well, probably eleven,” I then added, doubting I’d ever experience sex that amazing ever again. At least, not if it wasn’t with her.
She nodded again. “So then, if you had to choose between me and your sister, who would it be?”
The fuck?
I stared at her in complete shock.
Why was she asking me this right now?
Shit, I was so confused!
Was this not about her refusing to have sex with me anymore?
“Wait,” I said in complete disbelief. “So are you saying you still plan on teaching me?”
Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Is that what I just asked you?”
Shit.
Shit, no it was not what she just asked me. She asked me if I’d give up my sister for her.
Fuck.
FUCK!
I grimaced as I looked away. “Sorry,” I said quietly, suddenly feeling miserable. “But it would have to be her. My sister means everything to me.”
Mrs. Watson’s tone was sharp. “Even though she’s only a ten, and fucking me is an eleven?” she asked firmly, sounding incredulous.
I couldn’t meet her gaze. All I could do was nod.
Fuck.
“Then we’re done here,” she said firmly. “You can leave.”
Holy shit! Why was this happening?!
Fuck!
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!
I sighed heavily, feeling the most miserable I’d ever felt in my entire life. I couldn’t even look up at her as I nodded again, feeling confused as hell, overwhelmed by her unexpected rejection, wondering what it was that pushed her in this direction. Like, was it because she felt like her daughter deserved better or something? Did she feel as if Gabriella should get me to herself?
Or did Mrs. Rebecca actually want me to herself?
Fuck, I didn’t know.
And I knew it wasn’t exactly fair that I got to have practically whoever I wanted, while they all had to share, but still…
Dammit!
Keeping my head lowered, I slowly walked toward her, unsurprised when she finally moved to the side so I could leave the room. However, I stopped when I was only a foot away, seeing her staring at me in the corner of my eye. Shit, why was she acting like this?
Fuck.
“Umm, thank you for last night. And if you can’t help with the stone, I understand.”
She didn’t respond, so I reached out for the handle and began turning it.
In a flash, she shot out her hand and covered mine, causing me to freeze solid when her warm touch hit me. The wave of relief I experienced from her physical touch, like she was a drug and I was getting a hit from this, sent me over the edge and I had to close my eyes.
“Why are you so upset?” she asked quietly, her tone surprisingly gentle. “You look like you’re about to cry. Or like you might explode.”
“Because I feel addicted to you,” I blurted out.
“You are addicted to me,” she agreed. “Every man I sleep with becomes addicted to me. A few have even given up their drug of choice to be with me for a time, since the pleasure I give them is comparable.”
Fuck.
“I…I could see that,” I admitted, even though I’d never done drugs before in my life.
Her hand tightened slightly around mine. “But you’re leaving,” she stated firmly, sounding very much like a demand — not a question.
“I…I guess I am,” I whispered, my eyes still closed.
“Because you won’t give her up for me,” she said flatly.
I grimaced, unable to think straight, feeling like her touch wouldn’t let me think straight, not understanding why she even wanted that.
“I can’t,” was all I could manage.
She didn’t respond right away, only to pose a question. “Any reason why you’re not going to just take what you want?” she asked seriously.
I finally looked over at her in shock, completely stunned all over again. “What? Because I’m not a fucking monster!” I snapped, suddenly feeling angry. “Why would you even ask me that?” I demanded, straightening up to look down at her, not realizing I’d slouched so much. “Is that what you want? For me to make you do what I want? Fuck, why would you even ask that?!” I repeated in disbelief. “Is this some kind of sick test?”
She didn’t even flinch, holding my gaze evenly, remaining silent for a long few seconds.
Suddenly, my eyes widened as I realized what I’d just said. “Wait…this isn’t a test, is it?” I said in disbelief, suddenly hoping it was — suddenly desperate that she wasn’t truly rejecting me. But her expression didn’t change, and she didn’t respond. Her cold green eyes were impassive. “O-Or, do you really want me to leave?” I whispered, my heart sinking all over again.
“I want you to leave,” she said evenly.
“Fuck,” I hissed, tightening my grip on the door.
She immediately tightened her grip on my hand.
Shit!
I knew I was stronger than her, far stronger, but I didn’t want to hurt her by being rough.
“Just stop,” I snapped, closing my eyes again, beginning to feel sincerely overwhelmed by the sharp contrast between the coldness of her words and the warmth of her touch. “Stop with the mixed signals. I’m never going to be able to trust you again if you keep messing with me like this.”
“I was afraid of that,” she admitted quietly.
“Then stop,” I hissed, trying not to sound like I was begging. Because I kind of was.
Fuck, what in the hell was she doing to me? Why was this affecting me so much?
Her tone was firm. “Do you know what you get when you squeeze an orange?” she unexpectedly asked.
I looked at her in surprise again, embarrassed and pissed at myself for feeling like I was about to snap, and not in an angry way, but in a tearful way. Because her rejection really hurt. Bad.
She answered her own question. “Orange juice,” she said flatly.
“Fuck,” I hissed. “Do you want me to leave or not? Stop playing games.”
Her tone became taunting. “You can have me, right here and now, if you make me. Otherwise you can’t have me. Ever.”
Shit!
It was too much.
She’d pushed me over the edge.
Because I knew most women didn’t sincerely want that. Especially not when I could do it literally, not just physically. It was one thing to be a little dominant and even aggressive, but that was only when it was truly desired. But actually controlling someone?
That was something else entirely.
Using my free hand, I quickly, but carefully, grabbed her hand that was firmly gripping mine on the handle, only to gently, but firmly, shove her aside as I opened the door and forced my way out, reaching up to wipe my eyes, so that hopefully it didn’t look like I’d begun to get misty-eyed.
Fuck, I felt like such a pussy right now. Had she really almost pushed me to tears?
She raised her voice. “And do you know what you get when you squeeze a lemon?” she called after me.
“I don’t fucking care!” I snapped, rushing down the stairs, ready to be out of this place. Ready to go anywhere else but here.
Shit, why did I feel so fucking miserable?
Both Gabriella and Serenity immediately jumped to their feet when they heard me coming down, both of them alarmed when they saw me.
“Kai,” my sister blurted out. “Wha–”
“We’re leaving,” I snapped, only to immediately grimace as I felt the weight of Mrs. Watson’s words hanging over me. “I’m leaving,” I corrected. “You can come if you want.”
They both looked at each other in complete confusion, with Gabriella speaking up. “Of course we’re coming, Kai. But what happened up there? Why are you so upset?”
“Doesn’t matter,” I hissed, making haste toward the front door.
It took them a second to begin following, my sister holding the wooden chest, but then they were both running after me.
“Fuck, mom!” Gabriella called out over her shoulder, even as she ran after me. “What the fuck did you say to him?!” She didn’t wait for a response though, because I was already opening the door, and it was obvious she didn’t want me to leave her behind.
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