It didn't seem like the right decision to go home alone. Abihirt was barely able to control the steering wheel properly after having to deal with the serious urges that were building up inside him the whole time. His entire chest and throat felt like they were on fire. He had already contacted Roger, sending him Barbara's home address so that he could catch up, or if things didn't go as planned, Roger would arrive first. Abihirt had searched for the fastest way home, the least traveled. But that, too, seemed to be a big mistake. Instead of the darkening skyline accompanying the faint sounds in the air, wild bikers were ungraciously making their presence known. One after another popped up. They were speeding. Then one of the bikers had an absolute collision. Abihirt made a steep slam-his foot pressed against the brake until it jerked violently forward, while the man with the head protector rolled several times onto the asphalt. The dragged motorcycle brutally sparks until it comes to a
"What are you doing here, Moreau?" Abihirt's question was like a lump of meat that made Moreau's throat tighten. She didn't know how to answer, when it seemed like there was something her stepather was trying to hold back in front of so many people. And perhaps, because Moreau was still silent for a long time. Juan's voice soon chimed in. "I brought Moreau to this place, Mr. Lincoln. Please don't scold her." "I'm not talking to you." The gray eyes glared unusually sharply. Moreau instinctively pushed against Juan's chest to make the man beside her back away. She realized they had become a spectacle. This was no longer about a wild race, but how Abihirt barely cared about the people around him. Moreau didn't want anything to go wrong. Struggling to force her groaning tongue to speak. "I-I, just got here. Juan said there's a racing show, so we'll just be spectators. That's all. You... why are you in this place too?" However, the relationship between them was something Moreau
They reached the courtyard faster than Moreau could have imagined after doubting Abihirt's ability to drive most of the way. A man who was not well, but insisted on driving. Moreau still had that half-knowledge in the top of her head as she watched Abihirt walk almost in a huff towards a man who seemed to have been waiting for a long time. They only spoke briefly, but Moreau witnessed Abihirt's hurried steps to reach the living room. She trailed behind and swallowed harshly as her stepfather roughly flopped down on the sofa, while the other man was pulling something out of a leather briefcase. "What are you doing?" Moreau understood that the man she had been observing from the start was a doctor. She just wanted to know what specifically was being done-she mean, in what kind of order or illness that Abihirt seemed to have an urgency that needed to be dealt with immediately. "No need to worry, Miss Riveri. I am Roger, Abi's personal physician.
[Darling, I'm staying at Ferarra's house. We're having a drinking party. I won't be able to drive later. No need to wait for me and I don't want you to pick me up either. You can go to bed first. I love you. Love, Barbara]. That was last night's message. Abihirt exhaled roughly and put the handheld cell phone back on the glass table. Roger had given him medicine, but it felt like he was really going to catch a fever. His entire body was incredibly crushed, stiff, and the bones between his hands and feet were aching. Abihirt winced as he tried to get up. Slowly resting his back on the back of the sofa. There was no one in the living room. The memory of Roger that same night, telling him that the man had said goodbye, had given him a long rant. It would have been better if he wasn't here. The fact that Roger could make the top of his head throb was something Abihirt could not shake off. He tentatively reached out to grab the cell phone b
The repeated knocking on the door demanded Moreau to leave the bed. She needed to know who was out there, and what business it was to look for her at this time of day. Perhaps Barbara? Moreau let out a rough breath knowing it was too improbable. Barbara was definitely not at home. There was only one person left. However, Moreau could not ignore what she felt was important here. Slowly... after the door opened, Moreau held her breath even though she had guessed exactly who was looming in front of the room. Abihirt was dressed in a long, thin garment that traced the abdominal muscles hiding there. Moreau did not know if she could offer any tolerance to Abihirt's overly sturdy and perfect appearance. Really, it felt like that unexpected night never tried to leave her mind, no matter how much she tried. Moreau almost unconsciously swallowed harshly. Still waiting for when Abihirt would say something. The man looked down slightly, while she was looking up
Moreau spent all the time she had left in the room after the misunderstanding she couldn't even explain, whether to tell Abihirt the thick soup on her palm wasn't something the man should respond to, or to issue a warning that they were better off keeping their distance. Moreau didn't want another night of mistakes, almost desperate to think of something that felt truly horrible. It was too dangerous for them to be in such close quarters, for Moreau herself could not deny the attraction of her stepfather which was like offering a magnet, but she tried not to cling. Fortunately Abihirt was completely silent, and most importantly the man was no longer looking for her. A bit of relief. However, Moreau's throat felt parched. She wanted a drink. Trying hard to guess. Perhaps Abihirt was in the room, dealing with a feverish condition; who knew what now. Moreau grunted, then got out of bed. Hadn't Barbara returned home? She was sure the woman would be taking
Moreau had almost fallen asleep, but the faint sound of a knock on the door pulled her back to the surface. She lifted half of her body just to take in the dim situation in the room. It was already too late, wondering who... wouldn't stop knocking until Moreau made up her mind to make sure. She knew her mother did not have this kind of habit in the middle of the night. Strange. Moreau blinked rapidly and began to wonder... could it be Abihirt who was outside? She wasn't sure considering the man had left the house some time ago, but would confirm for herself by pulling back the thick blanket, then taking tentative steps towards the door of the room. It was dim enough to leave an eerie impression. Moreau stared for a moment at the copper algae, while taking a deep breath. She first grasped the whole of it, applied a little pressure, then pulled the door frame inward. The towering figure of a man. After an early detection that turned out to be correct, Moreau still faced a process of
"Then don't tell your mother." Abihirt spoke so calmly, even the gray eyes that stared between the faint illumination gave Moreau a bad influence. She clenched her fists involuntarily after saving the best sentence to say. "Not about the matter of... my mother knowing or not. But you're not supposed to be here." Not knowing how many times Moreau had to remind him. Suddenly Abihirt was already towering over her, precisely positioning them to face each other with the bed as a barrier. The atmosphere between them immediately changed. Fear, dangerous sensations, even subconscious alarms began to scatter. Moreau squeezed the edge of the cloth on her body to calm herself down. She knew Abihirt would say something and she chose to listen quietly. "I'm only hitchhiking for one night." That made no sense at all. Morea chuckled, feeling that Abihirt's decision was too impossible. She would still refuse if that was what
[Abi, can I borrow your phone to send you my pictures from the desert ....] Barbara's whole body boiled at the thought of what her logic was unraveling. Abihirt said that the man was still in Dubai; he would be home soon, but it was surprising to find Moreau's voice sneaking in between their conversation. This could not be regretted. No matter how much Barbara tried to deny it. She had sifted through everything that had happened there, clearly... very clearly that Moreau needed photos in the desert to send to the girl's cell phone. Probably no further explanation of what had actually happened was expected. Hell, Barbara hadn't even said a word and demanded that Abihirt talk about everything her husband had been hiding, including when Abihirt claimed to be unaware of Moreau's whereabouts the last time she had called the man while talking about her daughter's whereabouts. However, the call was unexpectedly dropped. Really, Barbara couldn't accept that one lit
However, for a moment Moreau turned her head towards herstep father when she touched the doorknob. Abihirt unexpectedly grabbed the man's cell phone on the nightstand. Perhaps there was an important rush, which indirectly reminded Moreau that there was one thing—she had forgotten to say to her stepfather. This wouldn't take long. She would just wash her face with a splash of water, then return to the man. Indeed, not for long. When Moreau looked at her reflection in the mirror, the first thing she did was take a deep breath. All the devices here belonged only to Abihirt. She would brush her teeth, later, at home. Now it was best to approach the man on the bed. Suddenly Moreau's inner explosion became enthusiastic. She had been looking forward to sending pictures in the desert that day, after starting to operate the new cell phone her stepfather had given her. Hoping Abihirt wouldn't mind when she mentioned her wildly raging goals. Moreau hurriedly crossed t
Although it wasn't .... Moreau felt something heavy pressing around her body. She blinked a few times to realize that the habitual light from the window was trying to penetrate through the dangling curtains. It was already morning. It seemed like last night's request for sleep had put her into a deep slumber. Moreau would have nothing to say about that. It was all in the past and there was no need to relive something that always ended in uncertainty in the end. As she tried to shift, she sucked in as much air as she could, wanting to stretch her stiff bones a little, but soon realized that there was hardly any room to move. Someone seemed to have trapped her; inhaling the masculine scent that rushed in, until Moreau unintentionally touched a strand of hair—it felt smooth, and she kept brushing her palm gently there. This seemed to leave a certain sensation, not knowing why the corners of her lips instinctively curled up slightly; perhaps it was because she
"Why do you keep squeezing me like this?" It took a lot of courage and determination for Moreau to finally ask the question in a half-whisper. She wanted to look back, but the clear presence of Abihirt's face made their cheeks touch. The man would certainly not say anything. Moreau instinctively let out a rough breath; letting Abihirt position himself better and now the man's face was almost trapped in the crook of her neck. Abihirt was not sleeping. That was the least Moreau could feel. Probably not going to fall asleep anytime soon either, though the man admitted to not doing much of anything himself after their long journey. After all, there were things left between them that Moreau wasn't going to just reveal. It was still about Froy and she would try to find clues. "I thought of something." Moreau began with a sense of alarm rising swiftly in her mind. When Abihirt walked into the trap, she was sure the man wouldn't suddenly become very quiet.
It was fun teasing Abihirt. That was how Moreau felt. This time she was really daring. Really going to be defiant with her stepfather and tentatively tugging at the fabric to leave only a contrasting lacy undergarment. Letting a pause occur for a moment, then hesitantly glancing at Abihirt as she had to carefully cover some parts of her body in front of the man. She was the one trying to provoke something to explode in Abihirt, but didn't want her mother's husband to be brutalized and left unrescued. Now, as she slowly inserted her hands into the holes of the cloth—wearing the T-shirt given by the man appropriately. It was done. Moreau's body was wrapped. She seemed to be drowning. Immediately looked down and witnessed how the edge of the cloth was definitely touching her thighs. Abihirt correctly guessed not to add pants. Just a thin satin undergarment and it made Moreau feel comfortable. "I'm going to bed now," she said, hurriedly looking up, only to find
Moreau looked down; realizing that she needed to do the same, but her suitcase and all her new clothes, which he had prepared when they were about to head to Dubai, were still in the car. Abihirt had given no clue about the items left outside. Perhaps he would prepare them later, when they were fully prepared and Moreau only had to wait for him to finish the remaining parts. She would not sit idly by, soon catching up to wake up and applying attention to the last time Barbara's husband's sturdy shoulders were still visible behind. Perhaps too presumptuous. Yes, it was. However, it was better than never. Every detail of Abihirt's actions was so unpredictable. The man had dressed up in an instant right there. That, at least, needed to be emphasized. There was nothing to regret, even though Moreau felt very nervous as those gray eyes stared at her intently. "You said you were still sleepy. Why aren't you sleeping?" Abihirt's deep, hoarse voice sounded as if a mistak
"I'm so sleepy and lazy to walk, can you just carry me?" Moreau did not want to take this too far when she could hardly protest to her stepfather; regarding the man's decision to be here, in the courtyard of the luxurious mansion, instead of returning to the house where they lived. Perhaps this would be enough of an understanding. Abihirt also did not show any reluctance to simply comply with what she had just tried to initiate between them, which silently made Moreau curl her lips slightly after detecting how the man got out of the car, then took a stance of taking her body—clinging tightly with both hands fully attached there. Moreau instinctively held on to her stepfather's neck. She looked up. Admiring every detail on the man's face. There was almost nothing to miss. It felt nice to imagine being on a date and Abihirt being a good lover, doing what she wanted. Though... that might not be true. That man was still her stepfather. He would always b
"I was just wondering how I could change my husband. What do you think about having child?" Barbara asked slowly. There was a look of regret when she said this. Samuel wouldn't understand her and she had no intention of telling him more. "A child from me or Abi?" Instead of offering suggestions, the man asked as if there were so many options, but Barbara needed to pick one. Yes, only one and no one could change the game she was about to start. "It's definitely Abi. He's my husband," she said indisputably. "But I touch you a lot." Woe betide her; Samuel had a way of simply knocking down the hopes she had built up on so many levels. Barbara exhaled harshly; feeling the need to raise the prospect of reality not being forgotten. "Even though you touch me often. Still, Abi is my husband. He touches me too. You're even." "Not even. You yourself admitted that Abi has been busy with a lot of work lately and it made you look for an escape. I've al
"Do you like cruise ship travel, Honey?" The sea breeze rushed across the surface of Barbara's body, leaving a sweeping impression that was too forced, but she was enjoying every bit of it here with Samuel and he had just whispered very softly in her face. Barbara smiled slightly at the feel of the man's arms reaching out tentatively, until the moving face had nuzzled around her neck. "Don't you do that, Sam!" warned Barbara after detecting that Samuel was about to take a dangerous action. She didn't want him to leave a reddish mark and if there was ever an urge to return home, she feared she would not be able to hide it from Abihirt's view. There was no word from her cold husband after the last time they had a phone conversation. Even Barbara needed to be pushed through a determined struggle until Abihirt was willing to accept a voice call and even then they spoke all too briefly. She was not satisfied yet. A little unwilling that Abihirt had gone on a trip to Dubai when s