Page 40 of Forbidden Pregnancy
He drives for another half-hour. I don’t think we’re heading back West towards Buffalo, and I finally can’t tolerate the suspense anymore.
“Where are we going?”
Michael sighs and looks over at me with disappointment. But there’s no response.
“Are you going to stay quiet the entire time?”
“My brother couldn’t have walked through the front door,” Michael says after averyintentional two-minute wait on his response. “You wanted to leave.”
Is he seriously doing this right now?
“That’s not what happened.”
My head hurts. I’m pregnant. Tired. Not exactly in the mood for Michael’s jealousy. But I can tell he wants to dothisright now. He wants to havethisargument.
“I shouldn’t be surprised you ran away from me again,” he says. “It’s just what you do.”
Heat prickles across my chest, flowing through my fingertips. Michael’s insinuation touches at the deepest wells of pain between us and I can’t believe he would dare to bring this up right now, when I’ve just had my world knocked out from under me and spent the greater part of the past fourteen hours thinking I would die. He can’t seriously be so selfish as to think love or our relationship are more important than getting me and my baby a quarter pounder and a shower.
I try to suppress my urge to start an argument. My tongue moves along the inside of my mouth and I try to remember that Michael jumpstarts arguments for stimulation. I’m more mature now than I was twelve years ago when I first made the mistake of letting this brutal man throw me up against a wall and have his way with me.
I won’t let him get into my head.
“Yes, Michael. It’s what I do. And I’m sure it has nothing to do with the fact that you’re a brute, or that you bring more drama into my life thanReal Housewives of Atlanta.”
“The moment I learned of your absence, I dropped everything to come find you. We can’t keep doing this, Myra. You can’t keep trying to run away from me. I’m starting to think I need to be more controlling.”
“Has that worked for you so far, Michael?”
“I’m not messing around, Myra.” His voice tightens with anger and I don’t know what the hell possesses me to provoke him into a deeper state of anger. Michael can’t seriously think he’s the victim here.
“Who kidnapped me?” I ask him. “Because I don’t believe for a second you resolved this so easily with a stranger.”
Michael’s redness deepens as I draw closer to the truth. I can feel his avoidance, and I’m sick of it.
“It doesn’t matter who kidnapped you,” Micahel says.
“Doesn’t it?”
“I said it doesn’t matter,” Michael growls. “Nowdrop it.”
Chapter Seventeen
Michael
Twelve Years Ago
It takes me another week to get Myra exactly where I want her… exactly where I fantasized about having her before to finish off what we started. She’s just as soft to touch as last week and my desire for her has only grown stronger.
I hold Myra’s curvy, delicious body against the wall of the guest house and kiss her slowly. She hasn’t answered me, hasn’t given me any indication that she wants me to take her precious cherry. I know reasonably that Myra hates me, but the chemistry between us makes me never want to stop kissing her. She tastes so good that I almost can’t believe she’s a virgin. Her lips are soft and succulent. She knows exactly what she’s doing with those lips and when my tongue slides into Myra’s mouth, my dick gets even stiffer.
My hands sink into Myra’s hips as I hike her skirt up and before she can react to my bare palms cupping her ass, I lift her up against the wall and keep Myra in place with my hips. I’m clothed, so she can only feel my hardness straining throughmy pants. Myra’s arms shake as she wraps her arms around my neck. When I break my kiss, I expect to find her eager and ready.
But there’s just more resistance.
“My virginity is special to me, Michael.”
“I’ll be careful.”
