I was reminded of the thick leather when I moved my good leg, remembering the chastity belt between my legs. And of course I had to pee. The clock on my nightstand said it was after nine. If my kids slept in this late every day, I would be a happy mom. I managed to sit up and look for an intercom and a button. When I couldn’t find one, I knew what he meant by “it was always on.”
“Hello?” I called out to the empty room.
“Give me two. I’ll be right there,” Paxton said from the surround sound I didn’t know I had. I winced in pain when my head jerked around, hearing him from everywhere.
I reached for my crutches and hobbled to the patio, wondering when he’d come in and opened the sliding door. I hadn’t heard anything.
“Wow,” I murmured. The ocean in a distance enforced that feeling of getting better. The view was magnificent. Breathtaking. I didn’t know if it was the magnitude the ocean had on my state of mind, or if the dream had caused it. Hell, maybe it was my mother. Whatever it was, I had a sense of wellbeing. Like everything would work out the way it was supposed to work out. I felt that. I also felt the belt between my legs and the urgency to pee again.
“Would you like breakfast out there? It’s nice this time of morning. Up until about two when the sun is directly over the house. Once it’s over the house it’s nice again. Usually around five. Maybe we’ll grill out and the girls can play.”
I frowned and shifted my gaze toward Paxton’s voice. He wore a cheerful smile—too cheerful. I rubbed at my sore neck, unsure if his split personality or my whiplash had caused the pain.
Basket case.
“Um. Yeah. Okay. Are they still sleeping?”
“No. Tricia picked them up for day camp. They’re making masks out of paper plates today.” He grinned like we were a normal husband and wife, discussing our children.
“Tricia?”
“Yes, she’s the one that kept them while you were away. Where you were going is yet to be determined. How did you sleep?” he asked as his arm went around my waist. He kissed my neck and stared out to the ocean with me. “I love this time of morning here. My favorite time of day.”
I didn’t speak. I wasn’t sure when I was allowed to do that, and when I wasn’t. I didn’t say anything, but I was sure he could hear my heart beating.
His hand went up my shirt and across my stomach, up my chest, and to my nipple. Paxton sucked on my neck and twisted my erect bead between his fingers. His other hand slid up the inside of my leg while his crotch thrusted into my ass.
An instant erection was born—no doubt about it. He ground his hard rod into my ass, gliding his palm along my ribs and chest. Then he wrapped his hand around my throat and whispered with a raspy tone, “God, I fucking missed you.”
My world spun around me when he backed away, leaving me breathless with anger. At least I hoped it was anger. The faint little throb between my legs may have told the truth, but my mind could be denying it.
“For future references. You usually stay in bed until I come in and help you out of your predicament. It’s okay this time. We’ll do it in the bathroom,” Paxton explained, once again sounding like a normal husband talking about a normal task.
I sucked in a deep breath and hopped my way to the bathroom, Paxton right behind me. His hand stayed on my rear, guiding me all the way to the toilet. After he turned me to face him, he dropped to his knees and moved the three little dials. I heard the click and felt the breeze when he pulled down on the front. He gazed up to me and then turned to my butt. Paxton took great pride in sliding the thin chain from the crack in my ass. He slowly slipped it out and took my crutches from me, offering me his hand.
How sweet. Fucker.
I only took it because I needed the help to sit.
“Oh, my God, Pax. I can’t even take a piss without you? I mean Paxton. Paxton,” I repeated when I watched his face instantly turn cold. He didn’t say anything. Not one word. He glared at me with inviable darts. “I’m sorry, but I can’t pee with you watching me,” I admitted in a softer tone. More for me than him. I wasn’t interested in stroking his ego. I just wanted to take a piss without an audience.
“Yes, you can. You do it all the time. You can do it,” he assured me. The anger settled, relaxing tight lines across his forehead. His eyes left mine and he pulled my knees apart, wearing an amused smug. My eyes took over the imaginary darts, but he didn’t see it. He was too busy being a pervert. His thumb nudged my left labia aside while he licked his lips.
I couldn’t pee. No matter how hard I tried. I couldn’t do it. “I can’t go.”
“You sure? It could save you a lot of pain in making your way back in here later. Either go now or get up.”
“Seriously, Paxton. At least turn around.”
Paxton moved close to my lips while his fingers massaged my clit. He skated a hot palm over my jaw and into the hair at the nape of my neck, fisting it, jerking my head back. “Don’t talk. It’s so simple. I don’t want to hear one word unless I tell you to. This pussy became mine when I let you have my last name. This pussy pisses when I say piss. Piss. Now—or we’re done in here.”
I didn’t respond.
I couldn’t do it. No matter how much I tried to tell myself to just go, I couldn’t, and Paxton didn’t want me to. His thumb on my nub kept me from it. Exactly what he wanted.
“If this is a game, keep playing it. I feel like I hit the lottery. I love fucking with you. My dick gets hard thinking about it,” he said as he stood. He bent at the waist and kissed me again, thrusting his tongue deep inside my mouth. Fingers slid from my pulsating button to my opening, spreading arousal from my ass to my clit, and then back. “You know what else?”
Again, I didn’t answer. I stared at him with wide eyes.
“You fucking love it. I can’t come near you without your pussy getting wet. I’m liking this new you. Keep it up.”
Just like he always did, he stopped. Two fingers dipped deep inside me while his thumb pressed hard on my nub and another one pressed on the pucker in my ass. And that was it. He stood and handed me the crutches.
Paxton led me toward the patio with a hand on the small of my back. My feet skidded to a halt when I realized he meant for me to go outside with no panties.
“I’m not going out there for the entire world to see me half naked,” I protested.
He shoved my arm and I was forced to walk or fall. I walked. Of course, as soon as I did, I had to pee. I was no sooner sitting when the urge took over full-force again. He left me to get coffee and a plate bacon, eggs, and toast, and I enjoyed the morning. For the most part. I still had to pee.
I declined the food, but took the coffee and the pill. I really didn’t feel like I needed it. I had pain in my hip a little, and my shoulder, but mostly when I lifted it. I took it for the high. To be able to escape this madness a little, maybe sleep it off
Paxton talked like we were the happiest couple on earth. Right beside me, looking out to the endless ocean. I could see a man and a dog, walking along the beach, and one jogger. That was it, a beautiful, wide-open beach. I was in heaven, married to the devil. No neighbors were seen from this side of the house. Nothing but a green lawn, open spaces, and the never-ending sea.
“I have to step out for a bit this afternoon. I have to meet with the Walton’s for the final walkthrough. Tricia is going to help you with lunch and help get the girls laid down for naps. I think you’ll be okay here alone with them until I get home.”
I hesitated, wondering whether or not I was allowed to speak. I did anyway. “Are we friends, Tricia and me?”
Paxton laughed. “If that’s what you want to call it. You don’t really have friends. I’m your friend, Rowan’s your friend, and Ophelia’s your friend. That’s all you need. They’re acquaintances. Mommy socialites. That’s enough for you.”
“Oh, well, yeah, since you say so,” I smartly replied. I couldn’t help it. Was this guy for real? Was he being serious? He picked my friends, too? The look on hi
s face solidified the expression. Of course he was serious. “Aren’t they a little old for naps?” I asked while fighting the impulse to say more.
“Almost. Ophelia still needs a nap for sure. She’s like a bear with a splinter if she doesn’t get a nap. Rowan doesn’t sleep most of the time, but we still make her settle down and rest a little. It’s good for them.”
He smiled with a silent snort. His head and shoulders barely moving with the puff of air. I felt the roughness of his fingers when he placed his hand on my knee and pulled it toward him, opening me for his view. I didn’t even falter. Not even at the jolt of pain in my hip. Instead, I reached for toast and picked off a piece, plopping it into my mouth without taking my eyes from him.
“I’m not sure you were this defiant six years ago. Makes me want to stick my dick in your mouth again. Keep it up,” he warned in a threatening tone.
I didn’t keep anything up. I had to pee and the coffee made it worse. My knee bounced, but only on the inside. I tried not to give him the satisfaction, but it was short lived. I had to piss.
“I have to pee.”
“That didn’t take long.”
Paxton once again led me to the bathroom and resumed the same position. Right between my legs. One hand on my good knee. The bastard didn’t even watch. It was nothing more than a power trip. He stood and looked out the window while I went. Freaking prick.
Unfortunate for me, the toilet-paper roll was on the same side as my bad shoulder. I grunted with the sharp pain when I reached for it. Paxton ran his hand down my cheek using the back of his fingers and took care of it.
“Let me get that for you,” he spoke in a raspy tone. He did watch that time. He watched while he patted me dry and then stared into my eyes, his face inches from mine. Our eyes fought each other for control, and I backed down, shifting mine toward the shower.
His hand laid flat against my cheek, and I smelled him. His scent. “This crimson in your cheeks here makes my cock hard. It’s the only thing saving your ass right now. I’m not sure you can fake embarrassment. I’m loving it. Keep that up. I like it.”
With soft lips to my forehead, Paxton tossed the paper between my legs and left me. I followed him out to my room and watched him search my drawers.
“These should be nice and comfortable,” he announced while tossing a pair of white shorts and a pink top to the bed. I shouldn’t have been surprised by the kind gesture, but I was. Paxton once again helped me get in and out of my clothes. Securing a G-string with a tug in the crack of my ass.
“You okay here for a while. Tricia and the girls should be here around one.”
“Yes. I’m fine,” I assured him. I was fine. I wanted to snoop. Find something to jar my memory back to reality. This wasn’t right. I didn’t live like this.
“Don’t try anything stupid. All the keys are locked up. Not that you really have anywhere to go.” My words were silenced by his lips and then he was gone.
By the time I had made it to the living room on my crutches, he was already leaving, backing a burgundy ford F-250 from the garage. I watched him until I couldn’t see the truck anymore, and then I turned with a heavy sigh. I opened the door and walked out, observing the front yard, the lovely neighborhood, and his workshop. The one right beside the little cottage.
Our yard was immaculate. Better Homes and Garden worthy. I sat on a soft bench below the living-room window, but not for long. Even with the roof, the sun was hot, beating down right on top of me. That’s what surprised me about the yard. It was too hot for it to be that green and pretty. I limped back inside to the cool air, leaving the humid air outside.
My own breath was heard throughout the quiet room as I looked around. Sleek prints decorated the walls. A black and white photo of the ocean and a long pier. Something shiny and silver hung with geometric lines and curves over a white-stoned fireplace. I looked at it with a peculiar stare and a frown. Wall art?
Look for a notebook. A journal or something. Gabby was always writing. I frowned at the premonition and looked around the room, like I wasn’t alone, pondering my third-person inner dialogue. What the hell? I walked around the room, paying little attention to the intuition. I wrote? Hhmph. I wasn’t really remembering anything. It was sort of like the dream. I knew I was a twin and now I knew I used to write. Two pieces to a thousand-word puzzle.
I hopped around the beautiful home, taking it all in, stopping at the two rooms, separated by a bathroom perfect for two little girls. A round tub in the middle of a pink-and-white room. Double sinks and matching vanities with their names. I hoped I designed that room. I loved it.
The cuteness overflowed into their bedrooms. One neat and tidy, filled with books and posters of dolphins. The other messy and plastered in Barbie everything. Rowan’s Barbie’s were lucky. Mine never even got a house or a pool. She got the back seat of a car or stuffed in the bottom of my back pack. Hmmm… Another piece to a puzzle that made no sense. I had a Barbie without a home, growing up. Why the hell couldn’t I remember something that mattered? Fuck Barbie and her house.
A motherly instinct moved me toward the dirty socks on the floor, but the pain in my lower back kept me from picking them up and I moved on. Next was an open room with windowed walls on both sides. Enough toys to open a toy-store took over the sunny room. My kids were spoiled rotten. Two of everything. You would have thought they were twins. The far side facing the ocean was lined with gym equipment. A treadmill, a spin cycle, a resistance band weight bench, and a chin-up bar. Adjustable, hanging on the wall. What a beautiful view to workout.
Separating the north and south side of the house was the open living and kitchen area. Another wall of glass opened to an outside kitchen leading to the pool and the backyard. The yard just before the ocean. I assumed the other side of the house was off limits. Four doors on that side opened. A beautiful bedroom decorated in black and silver. Chic and lustrous. Somebody had good taste. I smiled, hoping that someone was me. After opening the closet to nothing but a few blankets and pillows, I determined that it wasn’t Paxton’s room. Must be the guest room.
The room after that was locked, and the next was a nice-sized guest bath. Three bathrooms. Wow. The next door was locked, too, but the next one opened to a theater room. Four reclining theater seats, and one huge screen. Damn. We were all spoiled.
Next was the door off from the kitchen. The garage. The pearl-white Lexus parked where we had left it.
I was blessed with nice everything. A nice home. A nice car. Beautiful children. A pool right outside my room. The ocean, just a couple of hundred feet from there. And…
One fucked up marriage. I was a kept woman. Black and white. Red and Green. I was a glorified whore.
Chapter Six
I had my leg propped on the chair in front of me, the magnificent ocean as my view. I hadn’t even realized I had dozed off until I heard the girls inside.
“No, Rowan. I had it first. Tell her I had it first, Tricia,” Ophelia wailed in a loud, shrill voice. I yawned and sat up while catching my bearings.
“Noooo! Mom! Mom!” Rowan screamed in an even louder, high-pitched screech.
Wait. That’s me. I’m the mom. I stood to go help out with the argument when I heard another voice.
“Hey, guys. Come on. It’s a ruler. Can’t you find something better to fight over? One of you go see if your mom’s in her room.”
“I’m right here,” I announced from the glass door. I stared at the female stranger with absolutely no recollection at all. She was pretty. High maintenance for sure. She wore red stilettos with black shorts and a white cami. Her nails, hair, and makeup looked like she’d just stepped off the cover of Vogue.
“Oh, my God. Gabriella! You look like hell. Are you okay? I would have come and seen you, but Paxton said you didn’t want to see anyone. Do you really not remember? You don’t remember me?”
My eyebrows arched, waiting for her to finish.
“Mom, tell Ophelia I had it first.”
“
I did have it first,” Ophelia whined with big tears swelling in her charcoal-gray eyes. My eyes. I smiled at my neighbor as I lifted a finger, requesting a hold please. Ophelia sat on the floor, hiding the plastic ruler behind her back, trying like hell to keep her sister from snatching it from her hands.
I sort of fell into the couch. I’d done okay until that last inch or so. The pain that shot down my leg did me in. “Can I please see the ruler?” I asked with an open hand. Ophelia sniffed and wiped tears down her face with her fingers, debating on whether or not this was a trick before handing it over.
“What do you want to use this for?” I questioned, sure that it was simply an argument over the object and not the purpose at all.
“It’s for to draw a line not crooked and measure stuff,” she explained in the cutest little voice ever. I sucked in on my bottom lip to keep from smiling as I felt my heart melt. Ophelia sat on her hands and rocked back and forth on her butt with big eyes and a pouty bottom lip.
“But what are you going to do with it?”
“I just. I just. I just gonna hold it in my hand,” she replied while struggling for the right answer. Weary across her face, she had the same two little lines on her forehead when she worried, just like Paxton.
“I want to draw a straight line,” Rowan said. Her counteroffer trumped Ophelia’s silly one, replacing it with her more logical answer.
“I’m drawing a straight line!” Ophelia screamed again, this time in a full-blown tantrum. Her body flopped to the floor like she was possessed. Demons taking over her little body.
I guess I sort of froze. I didn’t know what to do with her. What to say to calm the scream. My neighbor Tricia came to the rescue when all I did was watch, too terrified to move. She lifted Ophelia from the floor, plopping her to her bare feet with a thump. We exchanged a glance and she continued. I think she wanted to see if I was about to protest her correcting my child, or not. I didn’t.
“How about you go wash your hands for lunch. You have to tell your mom about your mask you made. Remember?”
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