CHAPTER 14
I'm catching a heavy breath as I collapse in Red's arms. He's holding me tightly, chuckling mildly at the way I'm hugging him as though I've run a marathon and in need of balance to not fall. He kisses my lips harder to seal this awesome moment we've just shared. We both smile.
"I can't get enough of you," I breathe shamelessly, feeling his erection buried deep inside me as I'm seated on his lap sweating.
I fucked him on the chair. Good Lord! What have I become?
"Me neither," Red replies and trails his kisses down my neck up to my shoulder. Gently he caressing my back underneath his T-shirt that I'm still wearing. "But I still have to finish what I was doing before you seduced me into this."
“What? I didn’t seduce you!” I deny stoutly, my voice hilarious as I definitely seduce him every chance I get.
“Pretty. Little. Liar.” Red flexes up his hips at every word so I feel him deeper.
"Argh!" I squeak, giggling at his playfulness. Jeez, am I starting to see the naughty shades of Red? I blush, pulling back so I see his face properly. "Yes I did seduce you. And I love your eyes," I whisper, staring deeply into them.
Cool and gleaming, the wild fire in them less scorching at the moment. But he's still hot.
"And I love all of you. Even when you seduce me," he returns, cupping my face with his big palms, and gently our lips mingle into a delicious kiss.
I could do this all day long. Just today— I'll forget everything and everyone and embrace this day before I go back to my harsh reality. I make a mental declaration as Red's mouth takes mine into sweet bliss.
We kiss each other as though tomorrow will never come.
"Red," I murmur
"Hmm," he hums while grazing his lips with mine, teasing me.
I giggle once again. What a kid!
"I'm hungry," I say, and his eyebrows knit together in a small, disappointed frown. "What were you expecting?" I bite my bottom lip, grinning at him.
"I'm gonna spank you, Mia." He laughs lightly; we both do, before he sighs softly. Staring at me taciturn for a short while, he finally adds, "I can only make you breakfast if you get up from my lap."
Woah. I flush deeply. Feeling suddenly coy, I pull out him briskly with a sharp moan. Red bursts into a carefree laughter, making me scowl at him.
"Not cool, Red," I mutter. He laughs more. "I'm going to shower!" I run my just-fucked body upstairs, laughing along.
Oh my God! Why do I enjoy this moment so much? I feel like a teenager in love. Did I even feel this way when I started dating Patrick back in Paris? I can't help but revisit my past.
No, I think it was different. With Patrick I instantly shifted from a clueless teen into a sexually gratified woman without any moment of cheesiness and playfulness. He wanted a real lady and trained me to become one.
But I feel more like myself right now. I can be childish— because I am childish— without being restrained by anyone that I should behave like a proper adult. Nah-ah, I can be Mia around Red and I love it.
"Just one day, Mia. Just this day we're not going to be Mrs. Kingston," I mutter to my reflection in the bathroom mirror, a small smile on my face.
But after today, what shall become of me? I sigh heavily.
After a warm, relaxing shower— upon throwing my emotional baggage aside-- I don't bother changing into any other clothes. I simply put on a pair of white cotton underwear and slip back into Red's T-shirt which feels very comfortable.
Breakfast is well dressed on the table: a tropical juice, scrambled eggs, bacon and sandwiches. I grin my greedy grin as I wander into the kitchen where Red is already pouring some coffee into our cups. He flashes me a big smile when he sees me.
"Hi, you," I utter, nearing him.
He hauls me with his one arm so I stay to his side. "You smell good," he says after placing the kettle down.
I'm glad it's not the perfume Patrick bought me. In fact it's a very cheap one I bought in Brazil when I attended the Rio Fashion Week with my girlfriends.
"Thank you," I breathe into his neck, laying my head on his shoulder while devouring all the food for breakfast.
"Sit," Red instructs and I do as I'm told without thinking twice. I'm feeling giddy when he pulls a chair out for me. "You're eating everything," he adds while sitting down, too.
"What? Everything? Are you on a mission to turn me into a whale?" I tease, for I can say all random nonsense as long as I get to see his beautiful smile that can light up the whole Astoria.
As expected, Red laughs heartily. "No, Mia, I'll definitely find a way to put the food you eat into use. And trust me, it doesn't have to be on a treadmill or squatting machine," he says, his tone salacious.
Fuck! I flush that perverted shade of Red, biting my lip.
"I want to see where all this food will be useful to after I eat it all." I take my coffee ready for a sip. "Two sugars?" I ask him.
"Yeah," he answers. Man, he knows my stuff. "So, what are your plans for this day, Madam?" He's definitely being sarcastic right now.
Madam? I huff.
"Nothing. I don't want to go anywhere but here. I want to stay indoors and do absolutely nothing," I reply, watching him serving a bit of everything he's made into my plate.
"I see," he mutters, and as always he doesn't contradict.
"But if you want to go out and do something you're free to go," I tell him, fully aware that he may need some alone time as well.
He may be my bodyguard . . . Er, a lover now? What the fuck! No I don't want that name because it sounds as shady as fuck. I don't even know what we are and I don't care. I love being with him and that’s it.
"No, I've got nothing to do here," Red replies as we start eating. "And I can't live you alone even if we're not in Portland." He sips his coffee.
"Oh?" I take a bite of my sandwich, which is heavenly sweet with soft butter and jelly. "Good, let's stay right here." I smile at him, excited for a numerous reasons.
"Hmm." Red bobs his head in a simple acquiesce.
Man, the breakfast is delicious. As I drink my juice my eyes are stealthy fixed on Red. He seems a bit thoughtful, a small wrinkle on his face. It's that Bodyguard look, mixed with some . . . afflict?
"Something wrong?" I manage to catch his attention.
"You," he says.
"What?" I frown.
He smirks. "I mean, you're making me think of you more than necessary. Mia, I know this is a bit off limit and I've got no right to ask you, but . . ." He pauses, scrutinizing my reaction.
"What is? Ask me," I urge, my voice purely curious.
Red's lips quirk up into a tight line, and I'm wary. What does he want to know?
"How did you meet Mr. Kingston?" he finally asks, and it's as if his body has suddenly relaxed after letting it out.
I smile softly, for it's just a mundane question. "In Paris. It was during a party and . . . and some guy was harassing me the whole evening until Patrick showed up and threw him away with just two or three words that I couldn't hear," I reply while tilting the juice in my glass, swirling it nonchalantly.
Those were great times, I guess. The Patrick I knew back then was a man emanating nothing but reliance. I saw a father, I saw a boyfriend, too, and slowly I fell into him like a foolish being in love.
When he extended his hand toward me while removing his elegant floppy hat, I got lost for a moment. And then he uttered, "Young lady, are you okay?" His voice paralyzed the young girl in me, and so did his smile.
"I see," Red replies coolly and bites half of his sandwich. He looks tense, his jaw tight. "So you fell in love with him and married him afterwards?" he adds icily, and I no longer appreciate the tone of his voice.
Is it jealousy or something else? He sounds contemptuous, but I wonder at whom exactly. Is it me or Patrick? I scowl at him.
"We married six months later," I answer anyway, my gaze firmly fixed on his face. He wrenches a single eyebrow, his expression indescribable. "And yes, just like everyone else, you're free to think that I married him for money!" I snap.
Gosh, I can stand anyone throwing things at me about being a gold-digger and all but not this judicial look from him. No, I hate it.
"Mia," Red utters, his eyes wide surprised. "I wasn't thinking of anything like that." He looks wounded.
"Well it's what I hear every time someone asks how I met him and why I got married to him. Why? Couldn't I have gotten married to him for the reasons any other woman gets married for? Yes, I made a mistake doing it and I'm paying for it! But do I have to feel condemned by you, too?" My outburst is beyond measure and I wonder what's wrong with me.
I’m overwhelmed, tears filled in my eyes, regrets, mistakes, all memories surging like a wild fire in my blood. I get up abruptly, my appetite gone.
"Thanks for breakfast," I whisper and rush out of the kitchen speedily.
“Mia—“ Red starts but he doesn’t get to say a thing as I’m out of his sight barreling onto toward the staircase.
Inside my bedroom I slam the door and lean against it, sighing heavily. I shut my eyes momentarily, reclaiming my lost composure. Why do I get wrecked up over silly things? Why does it bother me on how Red thinks or feel about me? I rub my face, feeling tired and stressed.
"Get your acts together, Mia," I breathe. I've got so many things to settle and throwing childish tantrums is totally off the agenda. "My drawing book," I mutter.
Still perplexed, I rummage through my bag and remove the plain-papered book that I use to draw my designs. I'm enraged and this is the only way I know to my release. I sit on the bed and let the pencil decide.