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“You said you wanted to see her, so we’re going.” He hands me my suitcase to pack, but I put it back down on the bed moodily.
“I’ve changed my mind,” I pout, trying to avoid his gaze as I sit on the edge of the bed and pull at my hair. I’m emotional again, and I’ve no idea why. This was my decision, and yet, now that he’s making good on my decision, I’ve changed my mind.
“Look, Emma, I know things with her are messy, but I don’t want you waking up one day and regretting this. Go, talk. Just do it.” He picks up my case and flips it open, pulling my fingers out of my hair as he passes me on his way to the closet. He pulls out some of my casual clothes and begins tossing them toward the suitcase.
What is this obsession he has with packing for me?
“Why do you care if I see her or not?” I snap, irritated by his pushiness.
We’ve had a week of lazing around and lots of bedtime play, and suddenly, he wants to vacate the apartment and take me to Chicago.
“Because I love you, he replies, “And I want what’s best for you. I happen to think this is going to help. You need to talk to her.” He walks over with a pile of clothes and dumps them onto my lap, so I’ve no choice but to take them. He leans down, tugs on my chin to pull my lip free of my teeth, and replaces them with a chaste kiss, ruffling my hair as though I’m a child.
“You’re a bossy asshole,” I pout, glaring at him as he grins.
He stops and looks down at me in a very manly manner, his shoulders relaxed and his hands slipping to his back pockets. “Baby, you haven’t seen the full extent of my bossy asshole-ness; I don’t think you should tempt fate.” Our eyes meet and lock with simmering, stubborn fire on fire.
“Fine!” I finally break, not in the mood for a head-to-head when I feel so fragile. “But I’m not staying in that house.” I glance away from him.
“I’ve already booked us into a hotel nearby, Bambina. Close enough to walk to your mom’s if that’s what you want. Look, we don’t need to stay for the whole weekend. Just go and see her once.” He bends to kiss me, his green eyes distracting, and I surrender, letting his mouth capture me and push me back onto the bed slowly. He slides over me, his heavy torso pinning me to the bed. “Just don’t fight with me over this; can we just get ready and go and argue on the plane?” He kisses me again slowly and teasingly before getting back up, satisfied that he’s silenced me for now.
“You need to stop using your ‘sexpertise’ to get your own way!” I pout up at him from the bed, my body still tingling from his touch.
“With you, it’s my only weapon; you’re infuriatingly stubborn and strong-minded, baby. I’ve never known a woman like you.” He grins at me before padding off barefoot across the plush carpet of our room to the closet, drags his case out, and starts filling it with clothes.
“Well, you better hope I don’t get as good as you,” I smile wickedly, “Or else you will have zero chance of bending my will.” I lift my chin with a defiant smile, watching as he straightens and turns.
“Baby, your ‘sexpertise’ is already beyond my capabilities. You’ve no idea how crazy you make me.” He winks and leans down to scoop shoes from the bottom shelves, his sexy ass tight and alluring as he bends over in tight blue jeans. My body reacts, and I press my knees together.
Okay, my horny levels over the last few days have certainly peaked. Even for us, I have been insatiable. What’s up with that?
I watch him for a moment, biting my lower lip and squirming on the bed. The downside to a super-hot boyfriend, I guess, is the inability to think about anything other than sex, even when I’m in mid-conversation and mid-argument about a trip home.
“Jake?” I purr seductively, my eyes almost attached to his ass now. He stands up and glances over, his face breaking into a wide smile, his eyes instantly changing to dark.
“I guess the plane could wait an extra half hour.” He strides over to me. “The upside to owning it, I guess.” Sliding onto the bed, he catches my mouth with his in an effortless sweeping motion, his hand coming up under my dress to find me already willing.
* * *
Chicago is cold when we get out of the car. I scan around the familiar street and close my eyes, taking a steadying breath. Jake’s hand comes over my shoulder, giving me the extra strength I need.
“You okay, Bambina? he asks, bringing his face to my ear and kissing me lightly.
“Yes,” I smile up at him, inner peace washing over me at his touch, and I lead the way to my mother’s apartment. The street is dull and gray, matching my mood. We enter the building and make our way up the concrete stairs. The place stinks of urine, and the corners of the stairs are littered with condom wrappers, dried leaves, papers, and broken needles. I pick my steps carefully, angry that this place seems to fall into more disrepair the longer it stands.
Jake puts his hand on my ass, holding me from behind to guide me. I smile at his choice of grabbing place, already knowing, without looking back, that he’s grinning. It lightens my mood, and as we finally round the corner into the hall leading to my mother’s door, I take a deep heavy breath. His hand slides up my back to rest on my shoulder.
“It’s going to be fine,” he whispers, “I’m right here.” He leans past me and knocks on my mother’s door confidently. We barely have to wait as she yanks the door open, the waft of baked cakes and perfume hitting us in the face with an almost alarming force.
She’s certainly gone all out!
She’s tried a little too hard for this visit. Her long gypsy-style dress in rainbow colors is on over silver sandals, and, for once, her hair is down, gleaming in all its tawniness, and brushed into long, loose, shining waves. I can see why men flock to my mother; she's still beautiful with her delicate face and calm blue eyes. She smiles, leading us in with a flow of idle chatter.
“Seeing her minus bruises, I can see the resemblance,” Jake whispers in my ear, and I frown up at him.
I’ve never seen the resemblance with my mother apart from the color of my hair, maybe the same pouted lips and eye color. But my mother is beautiful, whereas I’m just average.
“My mother got the looks, but I inherited all the brains,” I whisper back as my mother swans off to fill the coffee pot while still gushing and chattering animatedly about our arrival.
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