"Thank you," she said and made her way inside, cautiously taking note of her surroundings, "It's empty."
"It wasn't always like this," I remarked. I looked around the room, reminiscing about how the room used to look.
"Now, on that note," I said. "Care to explain your relationship with my father? And why didn't you tell me you knew him?"
"I just assumed you'd figure it out as he was the one who recommended me for the job," she responded in a matter-of-fact manner.
"That isn't what I meant," I stated, "The man…."
I paused.
The man acts like he owns you. Or he works like he knows things about you that I don't, and that annoys me.And you don't seem like you'd tell him off for his odd behavior.
The words remained in my throat.
"The man?" she asked, urging me to finish my sentence.
I couldn't say it. I was jealous, and it was humiliating. Why would I ever be jealous of my father? Sure, a part of me regretted not being able to give her an opportunity to achieve her dreams when she told me about it at the bar. But you have to understand that I assumed I would see her again, and I didn't.
I delayed my stay.
The bartender told me it was his first time seeing her in the bar, and she had never returned. After two years, I finally saw her again. It felt like I was looking at someone completely different.
True, we barely knew each other, save for that one night. But I thought…
"You're not saying anything," she said.
"What is your relationship with him?" I repeated.
"There is nothing special about my relationship with him," she said. "I barely know him, save for what I've seen in papers or what Kate tells me."
"Is that it?" I asked as I took a step closer to her.
She didn't back away, stood her ground, and intently stared at me to match my pathetic rage. I resisted the urge to smirk.
"Yes, that's it," she responded firmly. "Why does it bother you that much?"
"Because it does," I answered. "You're…different. Not in a bad way, but you seem different from the woman I met at the bar." I paused and continued, "It feels like he knows something I don't, and I hate being left out of it. I want the lady at the bar again, with every improvement she's shown."
"You don't know that…" she said, using the opportunity to look away from me and put some distance between us.
"I do," I held her hand and made her face me.
She exhaled sharply, and I noticed her bosom also rose in reaction.
"You don't know…"
I interrupted her by lifting her chin. She was forced to look into my eyes, and now she was panicking slightly.
"There she is…" I said in a husky tone as I recalled the first time we met; she had this exact look.
I leaned in, and she tilted her head, dimming her eyes, accepting my lips. The kiss was soft, but it felt a lot more intense. She returned it, embracing me and kissing me back with much more force than I started with.
Her tongue sought sanctuary in my mouth, and I offered it readily. My hands explored her back, settling on her ass, caressing her gently even as I sucked on her tongue. Her hushed whimpers enticed me to continue. I let go of her mouth and feasted on her neck instead.
"Stop…" she pleaded.
I didn't listen! Sinking my teeth into her and licking her.