Kristel
Two Days Later
My father is at work, and my mother is home. I can hear her downstairs in the kitchen, and I can smell chicken and potatoes. She has some kind of jazz music on, which only tells me that there isn’t any sound proofing at all in this house. I can hear practically everything that she does, and I’m sure she can hear me, too. The stealthy approach might not work, as much as I want it to. I’m going to have to find other ways to get to Andre at night.
“Kristel, dinner’s ready!”
“Okay, mom, thanks. I’ll be down soon.” I grimace as I call back to her. As hungry as I am, I’m eager to see Andre again. We’ve been in contact through my secret phone and have agreed to meet tonight at 10 p.m. It’s 7 now, which means I have three hours to eat dinner, help clean up, and get to his house. At the rate my mother talks, I don’t like those odds.
My hands slide through my hair, and I glance toward the ceiling. With a sigh, I turn in a slow circle and look around. All of my essentials are here in one room. The only thing I didn’t bring are the bed, the dresser, and the book shelves. Those are courtesy of my parents. The walls are an awful shade of lavender, and I’m pretty sure the ceiling light is going to die at any moment. It’s a large space, though, with plenty of room for a crib and other baby essentials. For the umpteenth time, I ask myself what the hell I’m doing. The lie I told my parents about the one-night stand with a stranger is holding up, but I won’t know for sure if the plan will work until I go see Andre.
“With my luck, dad will give me some damn bodyguards,” I mumble.
“Kristel! It’s getting cold!”
My mother’s voice grates on my nerves, but I roll my shoulders back and focus on remaining calm. I plant a smile on my face and double check to make sure my secret phone is hidden under my pillow. Once that’s confirmed, I head down the stairs and into the kitchen. The house is very open and spacious with large windows that allow a lot of light in during the day. There are moving boxes along the walls everywhere, but already I see some pictures, birds, and pigs set up throughout the living room and kitchen. Floors are linoleum made to look like wood, and the walls are all either pale tan or the same strange lavender as my room.
“Dad’s not here for dinner tonight?” I ask as I pick up a plate.
“No, sweetie. He’s working late so it will just be us.” She gives me a bright smile. “I thought we could play a game after dinner. You can pick.”
My heart drops for a moment, and I give her an even larger smile. I hope it doesn’t look as fake as it really is. “Um… I have a lot of studying to do, mom. Midterms will be here before I know it, and you know how much I hate tests. I want to be as prepared as possible.”
“Oh, come on. You just got here.” She laughs and serves me fried chicken, potatoes, carrots, and peas.
“I know, but –”
“But, shmut! Come on, it’ll be fun. And how long has it been since we played a game anyway?”
I feel trapped as I take a seat at the table and start to eat. As always, my mother’s cooking is absolutely horrific, but I don’t say anything. The carrots and peas are overdone, so they’re mushy and the potatoes are under done. They’re almost crunchy and there is way too much butter. The chicken has been fried for too long and has a strange, rubbery texture. I eat slowly, long since used to not making faces. I hate to admit it, but I’m used to this kind of cooking.
“Kristel?” My mother sits down across from me with her own plate. The look she gives me is hopeful, and it makes my stomach churn.
“I know” I finally say. “But I just can’t tonight. Besides, look at all the things you and dad need to unpack. Don’t you think it would be fun for you two to unpack together when he gets home? You can fight over where the pigs and the birds go, like always.”
She frowns and looks at me. “It’s one game. It’ll take less than an hour.” She reaches over and takes one of my hands. “I miss you, Kristel. And it’s all been so chaotic and confusing. Just… one game. Okay? Then you can go do your studying or whatever it is you need to do. But I’m asking you as your mother for just one hour of your time. Is that too much to ask?”
On the inside I groan, but on the outside, I sigh and nod. “Okay, fine. One game. But just one.”
Her eyes light up, and she all but beams at me. “Excellent! And you get to pick, how’s that?”
I take in a deep breath and tell myself that I’ll be in Andre’s arms soon. All I have to do is get through dinner, clean up, and one game I don’t want to play with my mother. Knowing her, it will take all night.
It’s almost midnight when I knock on Andre’s door. As soon as I knock, I fold my arms across my chest and glare at it. It’s cold and dark, and I’m almost afraid my gorgeous biker has gone to sleep for the night. Either that or he’s not here.
I breathe out an exhale of relief when I hear heavy footfalls, and when the door opens he’s standing there in his boxers. My eyes fall to the lines of his tattoos and the hard edges of arm and abdominal muscles. All I want to do is bite into them, but I have to figure out a way to placate the angry scowl on his face first.
“You said 10 p.m. You’re almost two hours late, Kristel. What the hell?”
“Hey, relax.” I step toward the door, but he doesn’t budge. With a sharp sigh, I look up at him. “After dinner, my mother insisted we play a game. It turned into best two out of three, and when she lost it almost turned into best out of five. I barely got out of there, and I didn’t have the time to go up to my room to get the phone so that I could tell you I’d be late.” I take in a deep breath after that giant sentence. “And like I’ve told you in the past… my parents are very overbearing. So, are you going to let me in or just stand there and glare at me?”
He doesn’t move for a long time. I feel like he’s staring into me instead of at me. With a low snort, he finally steps aside. I give him a thankful smile and step into the warm cabin. The sound of fire crackles and pops from the living room.
“Hey…” I trace a finger over one of the snake tattoos that winds around his right bicep. “I’m sorry. But until you’ve met my parents, you can’t judge me. But I bet you can punish me…”
He eyes me sideways and reaches toward me. Instead of touching me, he grabs the door handle and closes it. I don’t know what it is, but he seems more agitated than I think he should be because I was a little late. He doesn’t even respond to my subtle attempt at seduction, which I’m admittedly not great at to begin with. Still, he’d normally be all over me by now.
“Andre, what’s wrong?”
His nostrils flare and his arms fold across his bare chest. “Let’s talk about that after.”
I don’t have time to ask him what he means by ‘after’ as he grabs me around the hips and kisses me roughly. With a moan, I return the kiss, and my tongue slides against his. As always, he has a way of taking my breath away so that I can’t think about anything or anyone else except for him. He drags me into a world I never want to leave.
His hands are all over me, and within a moment my clothes are gone. I kick my shoes off and push down his pants. He’s almost frantic in the way that he lifts me and puts me down on the kitchen table. I don’t try to stop him, my fingers tight in his hair. His mouth rubs down my neck to my sternum, and his lips taste each nipple. I draw in a gasp as they tighten and ache, and I press them toward his face. He rumbles and drops down to his knees in front of me. His hands push open my thighs. His teeth bite my inner thigh hard enough to sting, but it feels so good I don’t tell him to stop. His tongue drags across the bite marks and laps against my womanhood. With a moan, I pull his head tighter between my legs. They close around his shoulders, which only makes me more accessible to him.
That incredible tongue of his dips into my sex before it slides against my clit. A zing of hot pleasure rushes through me, and the bundle of nerves he’s playing with throbs. My hips rock in response to his mouth. I never want him to stop.
“Andre… ooh, that’s good…”
One of his fingers pushes into my womanhood, and I draw in a sharp breath. A second one follows, both pumping in and out of me. I can hear the sound of suction and it only makes me hotter. His mouth sucks my feminine folds while his tongue continues to dance over and around my clitoris. I fall back onto the table and lift my hips with a gasp. My fingers hold his short black hair tight enough that I’m sure some strands get ripped out. Another moan rolls from my throat, and my thighs quiver and shake with the incoming orgasm. When it hits me, I cry out. Breathless, my muscles tighten with the explosion of ecstasy, stars flashing before my eyes. I can’t even remember an orgasm as intense as this one.
“My God, how do you do that?” The words barely make it past my mouth before he starts to suck on my clit again. I feel like I’m ready to die.