I laugh. "You have no idea what you’re saying."
"Oh, I do, and more than you realize. I see how you sometimes look at him with regret. It’s written in your eyes how much you love him and want to put things right."
"You’re imagining things."
She shoots me a glance. "You know I’m not, but I’ll let you get away with it… This time."
"You’re letting me get away with it? I’ll have you know, if you saw any emotions on my face, it’s because I wanted you to."
She tries to hide her smile and fails. "If you say so." She sips from her champagne and her gaze widens. "Oh my god, this is delicious. What is it?" She takes another sip, then moans. The sound travels straight to my cock, which instantly perks up. She takes another sip, rolls it around in her mouth, then swallows. "I think I just came," she groans.
The blood drains to my groin. Images of her panting, head flung back, tits thrust out, sweat trickling down her throat as she shatters around my cock, assail me.Jesus fucking Christ.Does she have any fucking idea what she’s doing to me?
She glances up at me. "I… I didn’t mean—"
"I know exactly what you meant." I clear my throat, then toss the rest of my whiskey back. "I think you were right. You shouldn’t stay any longer."
"Excuse me?"
I jerk my chin toward the doorway. "Time you left."
"B… but I thought you said you wanted me to stay a little longer." She blinks.
"I lied. Chop-chop. It’s bed time for you, little girl."
Her face pales. Her chin trembles, then she firms her lips. "Asshole." She tosses the rest of her champagne at me.
"The fuck?" The liquid drips from my chin, splashes onto my jacket, and some of it stains my pants. "What was that for?"
"For being an obnoxious, offensive, objectionable jerk."
At least she knows me well.
She places her empty glass on the side table and jumps up to her feet. Silence falls across the room. I’m aware of my guests watching with interest as she strides away.
"Oh, and girl... Don’t be late tomorrow."
Without turning, she raises the middle finger of her right hand above her shoulder.
16
Lena
I turn over on my side. How dare he call me little girl? And tell me to go to bed like I was a kid? He’s my boyfriend’s parent, not mine. An absentee boyfriend, considering I’ve barely seen him since we moved in here. Isaac still hasn’t returned from wherever he went off to earlier.
So, I stomped upstairs to our bedroom, had a shower, and threw myself onto the bed. That was three hours ago. I’ve been unable to sleep, though. Every time I close my eyes, dark eyes fill my vision. Dark eyes that look like my boyfriend’s gaze, but they’re not. Dark eyes under thick eyebrows, with wavy hair swept back from that intelligent forehead. Dark eyes that seem to either consume me or look past me like I don’t exist. Does he hate me? He certainly gave that impression when he told me to leave. It’s like he didn’t want me around for a second longer.
Guess that comment about ‘coming’ from having swallowed the champagne was over-the-top, but I meant it. I’m sure he chose the champagne, and I was applauding it. Perhaps I acted up because I wanted to see how he’d react to it. Now I know, it made him uncomfortable. He was definitely turned on by my words, though. Maybe he was imagining how I look when I come? God, I hope so. He deserves to go through the agony I suffer every time I look at him. And fine, I admit, it’s not the kind of comment one would make in polite company. But JJ isn’t exactly polite company, either, is he?
Giving up all pretense of sleeping, I snatch up my phone and open my family group chat.
No new messages. Apparently, even my family has forgotten me. It happens sometimes. We exchange a flurry of messages, then everyone gets caught up in their own lives. Guess it’s time to stir the pot.
Me: I have noose
Me: I mean news *wink emoji*
I stare at the screen for a few seconds, but no one responds. It must be evening in LA. Maybe my siblings are out having fun, and my mother could be out with her friends? I pout, then close the chat window. I toss the phone onto the bedstand, then throw off the covers and rise to my feet. I walk over to the window on the side opposite from the one I looked out of earlier. I push aside the curtains and look down. "Oh!" I can see the pool from here, and next to it, a pool house. If I remember correctly, Isaac mentioned that it houses a sauna, too. I must use it, at some point. I’m living here—might as well make full use of the facilities, right?