He finishes with one last shout, slumping against my back and pushing me harder against the wall. His fingers are still pressed gently against my clit and I feel his cock continue to pulse inside me with the aftershocks of his release. Aside from our heavy breathing, the only other sound in the room is the ticking of the clock hanging above the sink.
Did we really admit that we loved each other and then have angry sex against the wall?
He slowly pulls himself out of me and quickly turns me to face him.
“Don’t even think about taking back that whole ‘I love you’ thing,” he warns as he pulls the condom off, tosses it into the trashcan and yanks his pants up.
Yep, that totally happened.
“Fine, but you’re still not going to live with me,” I argue, moving away from him, smoothing my skirt down and heading over to the now-cold pan of scrambled eggs and bacon.
He walks up behind me, wraps his arms around my waist and kisses the back of my head.
“We’ll discuss it later. After we have dinner with my parents.”
Oh, hell no!
I haven’t stopped staring at Phina since we got to my parents house, partly because I can’t believe how fucking beautiful she is, but mostly because she was entirely too agreeable about having dinner with my family. Finding a note on my front porch when I took out the garbage after breakfast asking me if I’d had my fill of the whore yet might have had something to do with it. I immediately called Jackson and told him I’d changed my mind. I wanted him on Phina at all times, even when she was with me. Just because I want to protect her and think I’d be good at protecting her doesn’t mean I can, and I’m man enough to admit that. I’m a trained fireman and paramedic and I’m useful in emergency situations, I’m a hell of a fighter (when I’m not blinded by jealous rage) and I know my way around firearms, but I’m not going to pretend that I would know exactly what to do if that crazy fuck finally showed his face one night while Phina and I were cozied up on the couch watching a movie or some shit. He’s obviously keeping a close eye on Phina, he’s trashed her house and he’s tried to kill her with an overdose of insulin, even if the PD has officially ruled it an accident due to the lack of fingerprints or any kind of solid evidence to the contrary.
Our conversation was tense on the car ride over and I wasn’t sure she’d even get out of the car when we got here.
“It’s just my parents and my sisters, no big deal.”
Phina glared at me from the passenger seat. “No big deal, my ass. I don’t do family gatherings. These people are huggers, aren’t they? Oh, Jesus, I think I’m starting to get hives.”
As I passed a slow moving truck, I watched out of the corner of my eye as she started scratching the skin of her arms.
She could pretend all she wanted, but I’d seen the way she acted around families at the charity fair. She thrived on being around happy people, especially children. I knew my sisters would be bringing their kids to our weekly Sunday dinner and I was looking forward to making Phina eat her words, as well as my mom’s pot roast.
“I love you, and my family is going to love you. Just relax,” I reminded her as I pulled onto my parent’s street.
“I hate you so much for this right now,” she muttered.
Luckily, I’ve become a master at Phina-speak. I’ve learned that every time she says she hates me, it really means she loves me, so I’m not as bothered by it anymore. She can hate me over and over, all night long.
After breakfast, I got a call from Jackson, letting us know Phina’s house was all clear. They weren’t able to obtain any fingerprints, but at least the mess was contained to just the living room. He called in a cleaning service and when we stopped by for her to take a shower and get a change of clothes, you couldn’t even tell that anything had happened the previous night. The crew even threw a couple of rugs down in the living room until the singed carpet could be replaced.
I thought for sure she would fight me when it came time to leave her place to head to my parent’s house, but she was anxious to leave. I could tell she no longer felt safe there by how she refused to stay in the living room for more than a few seconds and wouldn’t touch or look at one thing in that room as she walked through it. I hated that she couldn’t feel comfortable in her own home, but at least I could sleep easier at night knowing she would be curled up next to me in bed without us having to argue for hours about it. She packed a bag as soon as she got out of the shower, and I didn’t even have to beg her. We’re definitely making progress.
“Your mother has hugged me seven times in the last thirty minutes. SEVEN,” Phina whispers, walking up next to me to stand in front of the fireplace.
Wrapping my arm around her shoulder, I hug her to my side and kiss the top of her head. “Don’t let her fool you. She’s been begging me for another grandchild for years. She was probably trying to feel up your ovaries when she hugged you to make sure they are in working order.”
Phina elbowed me in the ribs and we both laughed.
A few seconds later, the front door opens and the house erupts into chaos and noise. Men, women and children pile through the door, tossing coats and shoes in the general vicinity of the entryway, their voices growing louder as they tell stories, argue and shout greetings to my parents.
“Oh, my God. You said it was just your parents and sisters, not an entire fucking zoo,” Phina grumbles with a worried look on her face.