by Mara Lynne
“Okay.” Still trying to test her patience, I add, “But don’t blame me if our research doesn’t coincide with each other. I am merely offering my resources, Mohr, and here you are running your pride. This isn’t about the sex question, right?”
Her cheeks flush, and I knew she’s lost it.
“That thing should not get into your mind, Mohr. This is academics we’re talking about here, not your or my sensual pleasure, okay? If you want to seal your class valedictorian spot, get at least a ninety-eight in this. We can help each other on that.”
Out from nowhere, her books are slammed against the table in front of me.
“Etheridge, I can get that ninety-eight with or without your help! Do not underestimate me,” she tells me.
“I have never underestimated you, Mohr,” I reply. “As a matter of fact, I am quite stunned by you.”
Her already reddened face becomes even redder as my voice begins to sound more serious.
“To let you know, I am interested in your offer,” I blurt out the moment my eyes land on her lips. So many unwarranted things surge through my mind as I watch her move her lips. I start thinking of things I know I must not.
“A man of your stature? Obviously, you are, Etheridge,” she says as she walks past me.
I grab him by the arm to stop her.
Just what does she mean by ‘a man of my stature?’
Oh, so she knows about my reputation, I guess.
It seems like Angel Mohr is not living under a rock all this time. Why would I even question this? Everybody knows who I am, and what sorts of things I do and can do. Angel Mohr is no exception. Even if she’s different from others, she’s not a fool to not know what kind of man I am.
I guess I see the whole picture now.
Angel Mohr asked for sex because she knew I would not decline it.
How clever of her!
But just why would she ask me? Why not Danny or Mike? And of all people, why her? How could having sex with me benefit her? What can it do to her?
These questions kept me awake for nights, so I just had to do something about it. With all the resources I have, I had Angel stalked and investigated.
With the things I’ve recently known about her, my judgment of her has changed. Everything changed because I got to know who the real Angel Mohr is. She is not just an overly anxious girl who asked for a one-night stand, but someone who had to do it for a deeper cause.
I’m not sure why I continuously annoy her when she obviously doesn’t want any connection with me, but it gives me satisfaction. I find fun and fulfilment just by being this close to her. Sometimes, I find myself wishing that she meant it.
“I’m not kidding, and I know you weren’t as well,” I say.
“What do you mean by that?”
Yanking her arm close to me, our faces are so close to each other that I could feel her breathing on top of me and smell the fragrance of her lipstick.
“I think you are underestimating me, Mohr,” I tell her, grasping her by the arm. “I’m disappointed that you don’t recognize what I can do.”
“Just so you know, Etheridge, I’m not afraid of you.” Her response sends tingles all over my body.
“I know your reason, Angel Mohr.” My grasp tighten. “I know your reason, Angel Mohr. You see, I can’t compare you with other girls I know, so I had you researched, and I found out why you blurted out those words.” I pull her face so it’s only half an inch away from mine. “You need me, Mohr. I can give you what you need. I can be very generous to you.”
To my surprise, Angel pushes me away with both hands. “I’m not like your other girls, Damien Etheridge!” she furiously tells me, tears starting to well up from the corners of her eyes. “You’re not the answer to my problem. Money can’t buy everything.”
“Unfortunately, it’s what you need this time. Don’t be too naive. I’m already making things easy for you.”
Angel struggles to release herself from my clutch. Every time she pushes me away, I gain the advantage to keep her closer. She’s so small, I can grab her by the waist. So fragile, she feels like glass that would easily break in my grasp. She’s soft, tempting me to never let go of her. The smell of her hair enters my nose, and it beguiles me to snuffle every scent my nose could muster. She smells nice, too.
“Stay away from me!”
Thrusting her to the corner of the table to immobilize her, I thought I’ve totally trapped her. My hips pin her down. My thigh divides hers, and I hear her gasp loudly as our bodies touch. I feel my entire body reacting to her. She freezes under me as our gazes interlock, and I see her pupils dilate.
“Damien…” Her voice shakes, but it sounds so soft and sweet to my ears.
The slow rising of her chest against mine excites me.
All I want to do is to taste her lips and crush my mouth into hers.
Bit by bit, I slip my fingers under her shirt, touching the softness that I’ve always wanted to feel. Her slow breathing and silent moans are more of a punishment than a reward. Though it’s more than a pleasure to feel and hear them, I just want to take her down and do more with her at this very moment.
“What are you doing?” she whispers on top of my ear.
When I reach the base of her bra, she freezes, and I feel her arching under me.
“Letting you feel bliss and delight,” I say just an inch away from her mouth. “Letting you know that you both get this and your father’s medical treatment for free. You, Angel, for these two. Didn’t I just make the most generous offer?”
Make sure to read the whole story when you buy Shouldn’t Have Asked available on Amazon!
About the Author
Other than reading and writing stories, Mara Lynne loves to daydream. Sometimes she would have a hard time falling asleep because of the many stories going on around her head. Unusual characters and twisted plots keep her company each night, and would only leave her once she had breathe life to them. She discovered the passion for writing when she was eleven years old–the time when she met the well-loved red-haired Anne Shirley. She fell in love with the kindred spirit Anne because she sees herself in her. There was a time when she even thought she was Anne of Green Gables! Seriously! It was like a mild case of identification, a defense mechanism for wanting to be somebody you adore or worship but whom you can never be. After Anne Shirley, she fell in love with all of Jane Austen heroines, with Anne Elliot as her most loved. She just loved everyone whose name is Anne!! When she is not writing, Mara Lynne works as a full time registered nurse in England. She hailed from a city in the southern part of the Philippines.
