Ugh! He’s so frustrating at times.
Yet still, my body yearns for the next thirty minutes to pass quickly so I can see him again.
I rummage through my closet and find what I’m looking for.
“I thought he said to wear flats.” Becks looks me up and down.
Propping myself up on the wall with one hand, I bend and put on higher heels than I was planning. “Do you do everything a man tells you?” I lift an accusing brow.
Until Matteo, she would have slapped someone if they had sent a text like Harrison. She likes it in the bedroom, but outside of it, she’s the demanding one.
She grins. “Touché. What if he wants to take you rock climbing?”
Chuckling, I think of Harrison coming over in his suit to go rock climbing. “Can you imagine?”
“No.” She laughs. “Definitely not.”
“Do we even have somewhere in the city to rock climb?”
“Fuck if I know, doIlook like I go rock climbing?” she asks, and I think about it.
“Yes, actually, I can see you buying a whole new outfit to go. You’re very adaptable.”
She picks up her phone and types quickly. “There’s one in Brooklyn. Should we go?”
“Oh my god. I can’t with you.” I shake my head in amusement, then spin around. “How do I look?”
She grins, her eyes dancing amusingly. “Like your ass will be red from disobeying.”
The old Jules would have been completely turned off by spanking. Now thinking about Harrison smacking my ass like he did while taking me from behind, and the feeling it elicits within me, would have me thinking otherwise.
Becks’s phone rings, and she doesn’t realize it’s on speaker. “Hi, Indie baby.” A soft but deep voice with a slight Italian accent purrs.
My eyes widen like saucers.Indie?I mouth.
She quickly switches it off speaker and gives me the middle finger.
The front door closes, so I leave the bedroom to give her and her Italian lover some privacy.
“Hi, Mom,” I call out.
“My love, can you help me with these bags?”
I round the corner to see her almost toppling over from carrying the groceries I ordered.
“What are you doing?” I cry. “You’re going to hurt yourself. I would have picked them up if I knew they were delivered.”
She waves me off. “Oh, nonsense. I can pick up some groceries, Juliette.”
I let out a sigh of disappointment, and I hope she hears it. She’s going to drop the bags and hurt herself if her hands or knees give out, and then what?
She trips down the steps?
“I don’t care if I’m wounding your pride. I don’t want you hurt, don’t you understand that?” My voice catches, and she doesn’t miss it, whipping around to apologize, taking me into her arms.
“I feel okay today, Jules.” She hugs me tighter.
Earlier, I was thinking of moving out. Now, this makes me rethink everything. What if I weren’t living here?
