Protecting What's Mine - Page 15

I push all the crap away, not wanting to get lost in my own head where the darkness waits for me. Tonight I’m going to get lost in Sebastian instead.

Chapter Eleven


“My car is low on oil. The red light keeps flashing. It should really be serviced, but I don’t want to sit at the dealership all day while it’s being repaired. They don’t offer loaner cars when you get an oil change.” Mom dips her spoon into her bowl of stew with an aggrieved expression creating extra lines on her face.

“I’ll take it in, Mom.” I break off a hunk of bread and spread a good amount of butter across the surface. One thing Mom does well is bake a mean loaf of bread.

“I wish someone would take it in,” Mom says.

I drop my bread on my plate and speak up. Maybe she didn’t hear me. “I said—”

Dad clears his throat and gives his head a small shake. “Nah, son, she’s ignoring you because you wouldn’t have dinner with the flower girl she picked out for you. You’re gardening in some other plot of land, and she’s not happy about that, so you’re getting the silent treatment.” He grins. “Welcome to my world.”

I turn to Mom. “I’ll take your car in tomorrow and have someone from the office bring over a loaner for you.”

“As I said, I wish someone would help me.”

Oh for fuck’s sake. Dad smirks and resumes eating. I’m held to my chair only because the days have been so fine recently. I worried after that one time that Violet wouldn’t allow me to touch her again, that she’d wake up from whatever lust-induced spell she was under and give me a boot in my ass, but that hasn’t happened. We haven’t progressed any further, and that’s fine. I can sense some reluctance from her when she thinks I’m going to take things too far. She’ll tense up and then reposition to give me head. My guess is that she thinks so long as I come, I’m appeased. And it’s not like I don’t enjoy her blow jobs. There’s nothing like having her on her knees, staring up at me through some long-ass fringed eyelashes as my big cock shuttles in and out of her mouth. But I don’t want her to think that I’m some sex fiend that is going to bail because my hard-on isn’t addressed.

I enjoy spending time with her, and sitting and holding her hand while we watch a movie is just as good as being knuckle deep in her sweet cunt. Okay, maybe not just as good, but a body has to have both. You can’t have the sex without the intimacy, or having an orgasm isn’t anything more exciting than taking a piss after holding it in for ten hours.

Sex is sex, and what we’ve got between us is more than that, but you can’t tell someone that. I think you have to prove it through words and deeds. I know she’s scared that I’m going to jet because she can’t leave her house, and that’s why she’s holding back. She doesn’t want to fully commit to me because she’s certain I’m not going to stick around.

“You gonna eat that piece of bread or add two more pounds of butter on it?” says Dad.

I glance down and see that I now have half the butter stick spread across the last bit of my bread. I reach for another slice, fold it around the butter ball, and shove the whole bit into my mouth. Dad gives me a look that says I’m acting odd while Mom tries to hide how happy she is that I’m devouring her food. The thing with Mom is that while she’s petty and difficult, she also loves me and will eventually come around. I finish my meal and get up. “Delicious as always.” I give her a light kiss on the cheek on my way into the kitchen with my empty dishes.

“The dishwasher’s clean,” she hollers at my back.

“Thought you weren’t talking to him,” snipes my old man.

“I was just making a general comment to no one,” says Mom.

I stow away the dirties and tidy up what I can so Mom doesn’t have a big mess when she’s done with her meal.

“You leaving already?” she asks, bringing in her own dishes.

I take them from her. “Got stuff to do.”

“You really like that Violet girl, don’t you?”

“Yup.” I place the dishes into the machine next to mine.

“And I’m never going to get you to meet with another woman, am I?”

“Nope.” I close the machine door and grab my mom’s round shoulders. “You’ll love her. One day, we’ll have you over and once you get to meet her, you’ll see.”

“What about me?” asks my dad from the doorway of the kitchen.

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