“It was good. Mom slept most of the time, but I just wanted to stay with her.”
“I know. I get it. Sorry I didn’t ask on our way to dinner. I seem to lose my manners when I haven’t fucked you.” She giggles and kisses my jaw. Eventually, I slip from her warm cocoon and carry her upstairs where I make slow love to her.
Now here I am about to fall to the floor because this little nymph has figured out how to run me. She has been more talkative and more open, but something is bothering her. I know it is not her mom because when she is sad about that; she tells me. No, whatever it is, she gets this far off look in her eyes and then she distances herself from me, until I fuck her back into my orbit. I just wish I knew what it was. “Fuck. Flower, let go.” I grip her ponytail and pull her mouth from my cock and lift her from the floor. “Are you still cramping, baby?”
“Yeah.” she says, wrapping her arms around me. Come on. Let’s take some medicine and get you comfortable. She smiles before following me into the room. I hand her some Tylenol and water and watch as she swallows, gulping, picturing her doing that to my cock. I know I stopped her just now, but I don’t want her to make me come when I can't do the same to her. Besides, all of my cum is for her pussy. I need her pregnant, with no way out. She needs to be bound to me, tighter than any piece of paper.
“Alaina is coming over tomorrow to fit me for some gala you have to go to.” She says, laying down on the bed.
“Yes. I am hosting the Susan G. Komen gala at the Waldorf next weekend.”
“I didn’t know you were a part of that charity as well.”
“I wasn’t. But seeing as how my mother-in-law is fighting the disease, I need to contribute all I can, no.” Once again, when I mention marriage or something in the vicinity, she gives me a blank gaze and says nothing. It is a fight to tamp down on my emotions when she does this. I feel like a whiny baby sometimes, but I want her out of her mind for me like I am for her.
“That’s nice.” is all she says before she stretches and rolls over. “I’m tired. I am going to go to sleep.”
“Alright, flower. I will be in bed soon.” My gaze lingers on her longer before I turn off the lights and walk out of the room.
The first thing I do is walk to my office and check my messages. Mostly meetings and events I am being invited to. The last one is from my mother. My parents have been in Europe the past week, visiting some friends, and so I have been free of their bullshit. Seems that is over. They will be back tomorrow and are hosting a dinner that I have been summoned to. I don’t want to go, and if I were just an average everyday man, I wouldn’t. However, the media would have a field day with ‘Governor snubs tycoon parents,’ so I have no choice. I notice conveniently that they don’t mention Lilah. Too bad. Where I go, she goes.
I am no longer worried about Lilah in my world. From that very first event, she has taken to the attention like a baby calf to milk. She opens up when she is surrounded by people who are as enamored with her as I am. She says it is because being somewhere for a good cause makes her feel good and with what I know about her, I can see it. But I think it is more than that. She has a knack for relating to people, even with how shy she is. We have been to two more benefits since the first one and with each one; she gets bolder and braver. Bzzz. My phone rings and I don’t look at it. I know who it is.
“Hello son.” my mother says, her voice high and snide. She must be pissed I didn’t call to confirm.
“Mother.”
“Is that how you greet the woman who birthed you?” Really?
“What do I owe the exasperation of a phone call?” she scoffs before recovering. She has to be around people who don’t know how broken our family is. Although, I don’t know how people don’t know, considering Alaina has nothing to do with our parents.
“I wanted to make sure you got our invitation to the dinner party for tomorrow night. Your secretary never submitted your response.” She is really bent. She knows damn well she sent that message to my private line and we both know it wasn’t an invitation so much as demand to be there.