She glares over at me where I stand in the door, hands in my pockets.
“What?” She snaps.
“Just wondering when you’ll be joining us,” I saynonchalantly, leaning on the door frame.
She rolls her eyes, one day I’m going to punish her for that. I’m sure her pretty ass will look even better with a large red handprint on it. “I won’t be.”
“Wrong answer, kitten.”
In three strides I’m across the room, grabbing her ankle to drag her to the edge of the mattress.
“What the fuck!” She screams, using her other leg to try and kick at me. Everything about her is small, her tiny feet, her dainty hands, it makes me think she’s fragile, but then she kicks me straight in the gut, knocking the wind right out of me.
I grab her other ankle, sucking in air as my stomach aches with the kick she landed. She flails and lashes out and I can’t fucking get her to stop. With her screams echoing through the house, I get on the bed, pinning her on the mattress with my body.
“Stop fucking fighting me!” I yell.
“Fuck you!” The little kitten even tries to headbutt me, but I manage to move before her forehead connects with my nose. It would have been hard enough to break it. I straddle her thighs, keeping her pinned as I shove her hands above her head, glaring down at her.
“Are you going to behave?” I ask casually.
She blows out a breath, trying to move a strand of dark hair from her eyes, “Fuck off.” She huffs.
“Fine.” Moving her wrists into one hand, I take hold of them with a firm grip, almost losing it when she wriggles and thrashes but then one of my hands fallsto her waist, to the slither of skin on show from where her sweater has risen up. Her flesh is warm and soft under my palm, and I can’t help it, I give her a little squeeze, watching as my fingers make indents into her. It’s not the time for another damn hard on.
“What are you doing?” She begins to panic, shaking her head frantically, “Please no!”
Shit.
“Stop it,” I growl, “I am not going to force myself on you, Olivia.”
She swallows, tears welling in her eyes and just for a minute a bloom of regret takes root in my chest. Not enough however to stop me from doing what I am about to do.
With her frozen, I quickly get off, dragging her with me before I hoist her up and over my shoulder.
The air rushes out of her lungs with a grunt and I’m almost out the door when she comes back to me.
“Get the hell off me!” She screeches, “Put me down, you asshole!”
Her tiny fists pound into the bottom of my back but I don’t shift her, I continue down the halls and then the stairs with her over my shoulder, her screaming bloody murder the whole time. It’s not until we get to the dining room, and I dump her ass into one of the chairs that she stops.
“I am going to kill you!” She wails.
Abe clears his throat, amusement lining his aged face.
“Olivia, I take it?” He muses, grinning like a fool at her.
She snaps her eyes to him, them widening as she realizes we have company to witness her little tantrum.
“Uh, hi?” She swallows, cringing.
“Don’t you worry about me, sweetheart, go ahead and drop him down a peg or two,” Abe leans back as Miranda scurries from the room to let the kitchen know we’re ready for dinner.
“I’m sorry, who are you?” She flicks her eyes to me and then back to my grandfather.
“Name’s Abraham,” he gets up and walks towards her, “You can call me, Abe, I’m his grandfather.”
“Grandfa – shit, hi!” She gets up promptly, grasping his hand in a firm shake. Well at least she’s nice to someone. It’s just me she doesn’t like.
