Page 42 of Free-Falling
“Baby, stop staring.” Jagger says without even turning around to face me.
“Is it just me or did you get bigger? Like still lean but a tad bit more?”
“Is that why you’re salivating and almost foaming at the mouth? And the answer is yes, I did. Looks good?” He turns around to look at me.
My eyes greedily drink him in as I stare at his now bare chest courtesy of him shaving off the chest hair. His abs are still intact but something about his body seems to expand these days and I just love it.
I nod. “You look even more than good, Jag.”
Jagger chuckles, shaking his head as he puts on his white t-shirt over his linen pants. “Come, let’s get some breakfast and see if Karessa and Oran are up. I’m hungry, baby.” He walks over to me and gets on one knee. Jagger grips my thighs and opens my legs. He stares in between my legs with such concentration, I try to close my legs just to get his attention.
“What is it?”
“When did you put on underwear? It’s a nice color though. Red is your color, baby. Brings out your skin.” He licks his lips.
“Thanks, now, can you move back so I can get dressed?” I tease him.
“Let me apply the rest of your lotion for you.” Jagger grabs my lotion, dabs a couple in his palms and applies it.
Even him, putting lotion on me. There is a charged energy in the room. Jagger drips sexual essence and there’s no way to turn it off. By the time he’s finished, I’m ready to suck his dick. “I’m so horny, Jag.” I surprise myself with the words.
Jagger halts the foot massage he is giving me and peers up at me through his lashes. The look he gives me is so dangerous, my entire body feels like it’s on fire. He smirks. “You want me to fuck you, baby? Make you scream to where you lose your voice?”
I shudder. “Yes.” I answer breathlessly.
Jagger chuckles. “Lesson five, baby,” he continues to massage my foot. “I like to marinate my pussy. You know what I mean by that?” He asks.
I shake my head. “No.”
“Well, it means that I like you so wet that when I slip in, I cum right away. Kinda like when the meat is so tender it falls off the bone. Today is the day you learn another side of your husband. Every touch, every whisper, every look I give you, will drive you closer and closer but you won’t be able to cum. You can try sneaking off and fucking yourself, but it won’t work because I’m not the one fucking you. I’m the chef and your pussy is my marinated meat.” Jagger stands and walks towards the door. “Get dressed and come eat your breakfast, I’ve already had mine.”
Jagger walks out of the room slamming the door. God, I’m fucked.
I quickly dress in high waist cargo pants, a black crop top tee and I put my hair up in a messy bun. There’s not much else I can do. I open the door and there Mikonos is standing looking at me with a certain expression in his eyes. Something is wrong but before I ask that I notice he got his hair cut. Gone is the ponytail, now all he has is his hair, longer in the front but shorter in the back.
“Nice haircut. It feels odd to see you like this.”
He smirks then steps into the room shutting the door. “I got blood on it and I didn’t feel like washing it out again so this time, I got a cut. Speaking of cuts, I saw someone.”
“Who?” I ask. If Mikonos rambles, something has happened.
“Guinevere Esposito.” He says.
I could never forget her. My late aunt’s, or my father’s baby sister’s daughter. We grew up together, but when I turned eleven, she moved away. I always asked my parents but since my father never really talked much. Something clicks now that he became withdrawn the day he lost his baby sister. There was a light in his gray eyes that he lost and now, when I look into them, it’s like seeing a zombie operating in a human’s body trying his best to pretend to be something he’s not and as for my mother, that was a loss cause. My cousin and I were thick as thieves and then everything went cold. Growing up, Guinevere was the only one to understand how awkward it was to have to explain to the pure bloods that we were just as black as them. Her background of a half black mother and an Italian father. When did she move to Italy? Her name was unique, and it always made me giggle because the spelling differed from the pronunciation;GWEN-UH-V-EE-R.
“What’s wrong? When did she come here? Is she okay? Where did you see her? Does she remember you?”
Mikonos grunts. “She’s… how do I put it? She looks like she’s running. You know I know what they look like.” He looks away. He doesn’t have to say anything, I know his entire story. Something else is going on.
I nod sharply. “Where did you see her? I need to see her again. If she’s in trouble, I want to help her? Where’s her father?” I shoot question after question.
“Calm down, little one,” Mikonos runs his fingers through his now much shorter hair. I can tell it will take some getting used to. “I’ll find her again. It was at the club but yes, to answer your question, she saw me and she hid from me. I don’t know why. Not like I know what the fuck is going on.” He shrugs his shoulders.
“But you know her, Miko, as close as she was to me, she was just as close to you.” I say to him.
He grunts again, and I understand. He’s annoyed. When Mikonos stopped speaking and started answering in grunts, it was clear code for stop riding my ass. I sigh, “I need to see my cousin, it’s been so long and not only that, she’s family, Miko,” I grab his wrist so he pays attention instead of venturing wherever he goes in these moments. His green eyes land on mine and I emphasize what I’m saying. “Family. Our Family, Miko. We don’t leave them behind in times of trouble.”
Mikonos tilts his head to the side. He gives me a small smile. “You remember?” He asks.
