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“And do you really think that you could be happy with a woman who can’t give you children?” she asked, deciding that he was right. It was time for them to stop playing this game and get to the point. She pushed herself up and climbed off his lap. “I can’t do that to you, Darrin. I’m sorry…I just can’t.”

Chapter 27

“Oh my God! What the hell are you doing?”

“Taking matters into my own hands,” he explained as he dragged the squirming woman back where he wanted her and flipped her over onto her back.

“Wait, what? No! Darrin, don’t do it!” she cried out as she struggled to escape, but he wasn’t letting her go.

Not this time.

“Please don’t do this!” she cried, trying to shove his hands away as she used her feet to push away from him, but he simply ignored her struggles, grabbed onto her hips and pulled her back where he wanted her.

“I’m sorry, but you’ve left me no other choice,” he said gravely even as he licked his lips in anticipation while his hungry gaze locked on the patch of golden skin that the rucked up tee shirt had exposed.

He hated himself for what he was about to do, but she’d given him no other choice. The pigheaded woman wouldn’t listen to reason, he told himself as an excuse to finally give in and do what he’d been dreaming about for the last month. He pulled her closer, ignoring her demands that he release her and her sad little attempts to escape as he reminded himself that he had no other choice.

He had to do this and he had to do it now.

“Please don’t do this, Darrin!”

“I’m sorry, Marybeth,” he said with a long-suffering sigh as he leaned over her and did what he had to do.

*-*-*-*

“You..,” uncontrollable giggle, “son of,” another giggle, “a bitch!”

“You can make this stop anytime you want,” the large bastard tickling her calmly explained as he moved onto an especially sensitive spot below her ribs.

“S-stop!”

“Are you going to drop this bullshit about getting a divorce?” he asked, pausing in his tickling attack to give her a chance to catch her breath and answer him.

Panting, she shook her head. “It’s for the-bastard!” she finished on a gasp as he commenced with his tickling attack, causing her to giggle uncontrollably as she struggled to get away, but he refused to grant her quarter.

“This is how I see this working out,” he easily continued as she giggled and gasped, desperate for escape and making promises to herself that this time she was definitely going for his balls, “you’re going to agree to stay married to me, you’re going to stop trying to turn yourself into a martyr, and you’re going to stop this bullshit about children.”

“It’s not bull-eeeh!” she started to argue, not appreciating the martyr comment one bit, only to end up screeching a bit there at the end as the bastard reached down and focused his attention on the bottom of her foot.

“So, this is what’s going to happen,” he calmly explained as she giggled so hard that she could hardly breathe, “you’re going to promise never to even mention the word divorce again.”

“Dar-” she ended on a gasp as he suddenly shifted his attention away from her foot, grabbed her by her hips and flipped her over onto her back. Before she could take her next breath he was sitting on legs, pinning her down on the bed and tickling the shit out of her.

“We’re staying married, right, sweetheart?” he asked offhandedly as he went for all the weak spots that he’d mapped out over the years.

She opened her mouth only to giggle uncontrollably as he doubled his efforts. “All you have to do is promise that we’re going to stay married and I’ll stop,” he promised, going for that ticklish spot on her side that he’d learned about when they were fifteen and his hand accidentally brushed against her side when he went to reach for something next to her.

“S-stop!” she cried, laughing so hard that she was crying.

“Are you giving in?”

“N-no!”

“Then I have no choice but to continue,” he explained, sounding amused as he continued his crazed attack as she tried to squirm free, but the bastard outweighed her.

“Y-you’ll p-pay f-for t-this!” she swore, laughing so hard that her sides hurt.

“Aw, is little Marybeth getting mad?”

“Yes!”

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked in a syrupy sweet voice that had her eyes narrowing even as she continued to giggle and gasp uncontrollably.

“Y-yes!” she managed to gasp as she grabbed hold of the bedspread and pulled, desperate to escape this torture so when he abruptly stopped, she was understandably frightened.

She lay there, gasping for air as the last of her giggles died away and common sense demanded that she get off the bed and run away before he could-

“Let me make it easy for you,” he whispered in her ear. “We’re not getting a divorce, sweetheart. I’m not going to lie and tell you that it doesn’t feel like my heart is breaking when I think about never having children with you, because it does, but it would never have stopped me from wanting you. That’s why you never told me, isn’t it?”

She closed her eyes in defeat as she said, “Yes.”

He was quiet for a minute before he asked, “Are you out of your fucking mind?”

*-*-*-*

“Darrin?”

“I’m not speaking to you. Go away,” he said, shifting to snuggle his pillow tighter when he spotted a lovely collection of snacks on the nightstand by the bed.

Now, he could have grabbed any of the other lovely snacks she’d bought, but he didn’t. He grabbed the small bag of Hershey Kisses and ripped into them all while shooting her a glare that dared her to bitch about it.

“Are you going to tell me what has your panties in a twist?” she asked, sitting on the bed beside him and looking oddly amused when she should be begging for his forgiveness.

Not that he would give it.

At least, not unless she found some inventive and rather satisfying way of making it up to him, that is.

“You know damn well what has my panties in a twist,” he said, unwrapping one of the delicious foiled covered treats and popped it in his mouth as he glanced around the room, looking for something to wash down the delectable chocolaty treat that he refused to share.

Sighing heavily in a manner that he didn’t much appreciate, she climbed off the bed, walked over to the entertainment console. He watched as she opened the bottom cabinet, revealing a mini-fridge, and bent over, giving him one hell of a view. Although he preferred it when she went to bed without panties, he had to admit that he really loved it when she wore a pair of his boxers, mostly because they were too big for her and had the tendency of falling down and giving him the view that he was currently enjoying at the moment.


Tags: R.L. Mathewson Neighbor from Hell Young Adult