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Nonsense
Last Updated:
2024-07-29 18:02:29
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It was surprising. Something Moreau had never thought about. She widened her eyelids to dismiss Abihirt's arm that was pressed very close to her face. Being a mistress was not something that had ever entered her list. Moreau never remembered that she would write something on a note, about various sad decisions. Wishing there had never been such events involved in any episode of her life. Abihirt had gone too far. It was wrong to want to involve illicit acts between them. It was not appropriate. Moreau would never justify just because they had a one-night stand. Something done accidentally, she would always consider it an accident. Not anymore. Not here, if, that is, Abihirt intended to use their photos as an absolute threat. Moreau was ready to argue, and made sure she had every possible way to deny. "You're not crazy, Abi." Moreau's voice had a firm tone. For now, not trying to put them in their proper positions. Abihirt was trying to ignore, while she had to just carry on where
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"What's wrong with asking me to come to your office?" The smile on the corner of Barbara's lips instantly responded seriously. After several messages, she finally found Abihirt looming and stepped closer to the desk. Barbara immediately left work to greet her husband. She got up, embraced Abihirt's body, inhaled the intoxicating scent of his body, and made sure that the curves on her face did not quickly disappear. Only when a little distance was taken did Barbara step back to the work chair. "Sit down, Darling. I'm sorry about last night. But can you tell me where you slept after leaving home? Because I called Roki and he said you didn't go to his residence at all." That sounded like an insult. Barbara understood and perhaps she was overreacting when Abihirt himself was so calmly observing her face. The man's fingertips tapped on the surface of the glass table, just for a moment. Then, leaning in slightly, Barbara watched her husband shrug. "I'm returning to my home." One eyebr
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"What kind of mature man do you mean?" Instead of getting an answer right away. Moreau was ambushed by Juan's questions. The man was too critical to understand something they were talking about. "A mature man who is married. Anyway." Moreau added a small detail in hope; not wanting Juan to guess the odd, hollow phrase the man was dealing with. It would be too close, she was afraid Juan would smell something she was trying to hide. A secret. For now they could not open up to each other. Moreau was still staring at the man beside her until the air rushed roughly from between Juan's lips. The man shrugged, then placed the water bottle on a layer of ice. Finished training. Perhaps after this they would go home soon. Moreau did not want to, at least for the next day or two, indulge Juan's invitation to leave. It was enough that they met Abihirt at the racing venue unexpectedly. Fortunately Abihirt didn't say anything to Barbara.
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"Is Abi not home yet?" Moreau almost gasped, and at the same time tried to control herself from Barbara's appearance in the backyard. She was enjoying the moment soaking her feet in the pool of water, having absolutely no clue that the woman would suddenly appear looking for someone. Barbara's eyeballs darted around. Finding no one, the only thing left behind was a rough exhale. In the next moment Moreau knew immediately that Barbara was taking steps, pacing for one glaring reason. Worry was in the air, perhaps a way of simply urging calm to play a brief role. "I haven't seen him for a while." Couldn't stand it. Moreau added slowly to keep Barbara from overreacting. The woman's appearance was still too complete. The tote bag was linked in the hand. The work blazer and heels worn almost all day were still there. Even the long hair in a bun emphasized that Barbara was an office lady. Shrewd, and probably well-calculated. The woman snorted, though ultimately decided to stay put. Some
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It was horrible to have to observe Barbara all the time occupied on the monitor. The woman's fingers moved over the keyboard without the slightest intention of abandoning whatever she was doing. Moreau did not understand her mother's thinking. She had forbidden her to be involved in the office; anything, for the company that was, at the moment, being run by her late father's right-hand man for a predetermined period of time. For Moreau, Barbara's attitude here was revealed to be quite excessive as a business owner. In fact, she harbors an odd sense of something pointed. Yes, something about a will had been written long before Jeremias Riveri breathed his last: With her as the sole heir; Moreau would continue the family company at the age of 28. However, it seemed too improbable after what Barbara had controlled through Jeremias Riveri's permission back then. Instead, Moreau was required to take dance lessons as a child. Then as a teenager, she began a new chapter by devoting her lif
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"There is no need to do so, Moreau. I'm not hungry." Moreau's body jerked, so surprised was she to find her stepfather suddenly looming an inch away from the bar. The man was still in the white shirt that was revealed to be sexy and fitted, while this time the gray suit was hanging on the bent arms, looking so solid that Moreau struggled to choose the best words to judge. But... she really wasn't going to say anything outright. Abihirt seemed to be holding something back and Moreau felt sorry for him. She wasn't thinking about the offer the man had made, but felt sorry for how Abihirt had to be more patient with her mother. She wasn't sure she wanted to let the man go, now, after the shocking, perhaps even devastating, events of this afternoon. Abihirt was unlikely to ask Barbara for help if the man was doing well. Moreau pursed her lips subconsciously realizing that soon her stepfather would be leaving the kitchen. "Did the accident this afternoon make your shoulder hurt?" She ask
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"Alright, where's your injured shoulder?" The corner of Abihirt's lips twitched slightly, whether it was satisfaction or a habit Moreau had never known. She swallowed harshly at how her stepfather's arm reached out to simply grab the coat on the bed, then reached for something there. The situation spiraled out of control as the man undid one button after another on the white shirt, then stripped the work clothes off to clutch them in the palm of his hand. Moreau is still unable to say anything as she watches Abihirt half-naked with muscles bulging in the abdomen, the biceps on the man's arms looking solid, even the butt that looks solid and sexy finally sticking to the edge of the bed. How horrible it would be if Moreau was lulled by the slim hips, especially at the vestiges of bluish veins creeping up, hiding in one place under the man's work pants. She had to remember who the man she was observing was. This man is your father! Your stepfather! The other side of her tried to rem
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After finishing the rest of the pending work. Barbara was in the mood for some esophageal relief, but a bit of irony... found her husband still in his white shirt busily removing a plate of dinner with a puff of smoke wafting into the air. A beautiful sight. Barbara loved the clay-hungry body, and it was tantalizing. Something inside Barbara throbbed just remembering how firm Abihirt was in bed. It was quite regrettable that she had turned down the honeymoon invitation from the man who currently seemed to have no interest in talking despite being aware of her existence. Too busy. But thankfully it was only a few moments when Abihirt had chosen to sit down, then those gray eyes glanced over briefly just to be sure. "Why are you heating up your own dinner, Abi? Where is Moreau? Didn't I ask her to do this for you?" Barbara asked while adjusting their seating positions facing each other at the dining table. Her eyes never left every action Abihirt took. The man was unaffected, calml
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[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
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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
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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
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"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.
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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
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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
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"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
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"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
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"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
