Oh well.
I'm sure other girls would've still given him a chance, but I want what Mama and Papa had. I know my standards are pretty unrealistic and unreasonable, but I don't care. I want to be with a man who'd pursue me with passion and obsess over me and me alone—-
(Like Mr. Mine, perhaps?)
The thought comes out of nowhere, but I quickly brush it aside and distract myself by checking the time.
Mm.
Since it usually takes Grandpa Paco at least an hour before he's done playing backgammon with his old pals, I guess that leaves me free to just wander aimlessly around the club, and that's exactly what I end up doing until my feet eventually take me to a gardenside cafe.
It starts to rain just as I take one of the tables by the window, and my fingers tremble as I wrap them around my frothy hot cup of latte.
Déjà vu, self.
A twinge of pain squeezes my heart, but I force myself to ignore it. I reach for my cup, but just as I'm about to take a sip, someone slides into the chair next to mine, and I end up choking instead.
Mr. Mine.
I lower my cup back on the table rather clumsily, and when I look up, it's to see his tiger-gold eyes glittering at me in a way that has my body reacting with shameless haste. My breasts are now swollen and aching, my nipples erect, and my pussy quivering and oh-so-wet.
"Hello."
The purr in his voice makes me want to close my eyes and savor it...even as I have this really stupid urge to cry.
I hate you, Mr. Mine.
Do you know how many times you've caused me to curl up in bed, all agonized and terrified because I couldn't bear thinking that I could never hear you purr again?
His gaze darkens. "You're angry at me."
"Shouldn't I be?"
"Is that why you were trying to make me jealous?"
I only shrug this time, and his tiger-gold eyes blazes with fury.
"Who is he?"
He isn't shouting, but he almost is, and I never, ever thought it was possible for a man like Mr. Mine to loose his shit like this.
"Is he your new boyfriend?"
"Why do you care?"
"Just answer the fucking question, damn you!"
Mr. Mine is definitely no Brian. He won't ever think it's 'cool' if he were to catch me looking at another man, but—-
"You pushed me away, remember?"
"And you said you wanted to be mine, remember?"
My heart pounds against my chest even though his words leave me furious and frustrated, but more than anything else I'm also fascinated against my will by the savageness of his tone and the way rage is etched over the sculpted lines of his face .
"What is it do you want from me?" I ask helplessly. "You flirt with me, but you push me away. You disappear from my life, but now—-"
His fist pounds the table, and I nearly jump out of my seat.