"Why would you suddenly think like that?"
Again, Moreau asked the question after feeling something was wrong. The strangeness of her mother's thoughts felt so real—she feared that she would be dragged down and helplessly cling to something misguided. "I'm just curious. You didn't say anything when Froy tried to get you to talk. Now I want to hear the story from your point of view, is it true that you and Abi don't have any relationship? Abi really only came to the room for one thing that day?" Moreau didn't know why Barbara's voice sounded accusatory. The woman had created a great noise in her heart, while she had to make a good effort not to leave the wrong impression. "What should I say then? Because there really isn't any relationship between me and Abi. You didn't introduce us from the start, so I had to adapt to it. Besides, it's not important that I get along with him. Abi is just a stepfather and all that matters is that he's your husband." Had t"You didn't tell me you were going to go and take care of all this until Froy is now in custody at the police station on two reports from you." Barbara didn't want to wait any longer just to say everything that had started bubbling up in her mind after catching up with her husband in their bedroom. Abihirt had just undone the buttons of his shirt one by one, then removed the cloth that clung to his sturdy body in a way that always caught Barbara's attention there. There was something—it seemed different. She frowned when she noticed something that seemed so new, but perhaps it was time to talk about it later. They still had to have a serious discussion. Waiting for Abihirt to say something was almost the thing Barbara wanted to get rid of the most. This time it was a little impatient to watch the man carefully drop his butt on the edge of the bed, so she stomped over to step closer. "I'm talking to you, Abi." There was still no telling when her husband would
"If you add a tattoo of my face on your body, it would be the most expensive art." She inserted a smile at the end. Let her husband think of an answer whether to agree or not, even though it really wasn't something that was said seriously. Just testing the extent to which Abihirt could be talked to. The most patience—draining thing was when the man began to stare straight ahead. "Are you done with your office business?" Then asked, as if there was something to know and she didn't have a clue about what to say. "Yes, of course. What's wrong with you asking like that?" There was a sense of apprehension trying to nestle wildly in Barbara's mind. She wished she could be more calm when going through times like this. Abihirt didn't say much more, other than getting up to walk to the bathroom—almost, but then the man turned half a face and said, "Gloriya came because she asked you to persuade me to withdraw the report?" The topic of their conversation ch
Moreau's face instinctively looked up at one of the shelves attached to the wall. It was quite high. Perhaps she needed something just to continue searching, as there was no specific explanation of where Barbara had placed the object, though she had at least gotten a few clues. The faint sound of a cell phone vibrating drew Moreau's attention for a moment. She turned her head again. She frowned when she saw the odd smile on her mother's face. Barbara seemed to have just received a sweet message from someone and did not hesitate to show such a thing to the surface. Perhaps it could be attributed to Abihirt's invisible whereabouts. It was none of her business. Moreau never wanted to interfere with something that was on her list of possible descriptions of Barbara's betrayal. Just trying to focus on her tiptoes while taking a step or two backward just to look for something she needed. There was almost nothing in sight other than finding a few devices fully organiz
Barbara may have left the house, but Moreau imagined Caroline's face. Her mother had said she was in the backyard. It was too risky if they didn't keep their distance. "Look for what you need." Instead of agreeing. Abihirt said something in a tone like he was holding something back. It was too brief if it amused Moreau a little. Having always admired her stepfather's perfect form, it was hard to believe that the man had to face such a stable and stressful crisis. "You are unable to lift my body, huh?" she asked, just wanting to confirm the knowledge she was sure was true. Deliberately turning half of her face—staring down; at Abihirt's upturned face; while drawing a silent smile. "My shoulder is injured." Her stepfather immediately explained. That made sense. The correlation between keeping the strength in a solid balance and the wounded side there. Perhaps it should have been faster. Moreau gesticulated, pushing aside a few things until the one
There was no protest. She didn't want to propose anything. Let things go as they should and stay at a reasonable level that didn't cross the line of tolerance. After all, Abihirt had no interest in adding to the reasons why the man was still here. Observing every detail of what Moreau was doing. Not admiring anything, but it was a bit much if they still ended up in such close proximity. "I don't like being watched while I'm doing something in the kitchen, Abi. You might want to step outside. To the living room. Anywhere or go meet your dog. Just not here." "Why?" Almost without pause, the deep, raspy voice finally broke through. Moreau swallowed as she considered the various things she needed to choose from. Some of them might be too dangerous. "I don't like it." But there was always denial if something inside her decided to betray. Moreau hurriedly tried to focus after saying that. "Don't like it?" It was bad luck that she had to face such a whis
"No, no. I can do it myself." She said following the hurried action of grabbing the fallen vegetable spoon. Every now and then, Moreau's bright blue irises would glare at her stepfather as a hint that they were about to be discovered and he should be more careful when he was at home. "I need some paper and pens, Caroline. Can you go and get them for me?" There was nothing wrong, if the thought in Abihirt's mind would have been clear enough. However, Moreau could not figure out the specific approach, with the man's motivation seemingly mysterious. After all, Caroline was being very obedient to actually leave the kitchen. "Are you up to something, Abi?" That needed to be asked. Moreau was grateful that she was finally no longer trapped in situations like the last time. Sometimes just venturing a glance at Abihirt's fingers, which the man used to touch her. Then blinked repeatedly simply realizing that it would leave an additional impression if she let the man
The last thing Moreau noticed was that Abihirt grabbed a scrap of paper with a strange command—squeezed it quite roughly, then carried her body away with a barely—there position at the line of the man's right shoulder. "What do you want to do, Abi?" There was no significant touch, other than holding on tightly to the closest part of her stepfather's back. Moreau swallowed harshly as she realized where Abihirt's steps would end up; feeling a little shaken as his feet hit the steps of the stairs. "You know I'm hungry and want to make my snack." While protesting, Moreau deliberately turned half of her face back, staring at the door of the room that was so close, but also had to wait for Abihirt to make a reply. "I'm hungry too." The deep, raspy voice sounded disinterested. Too flat or just a brief acknowledgment. "Then we'd better go back to the kitchen," Moreau added so that her stepfather would not take serious action by stomping off to one place when she felt it was not
Unfortunately, just one faint shake of the head was all it took for her to understand there was an intended prohibition to their secrecy. No, there wasn't. There was something to be said for Abihirt's need to buy freedom in her life. Moreau would never agree that the man would ultimately control everything; such as the desire to enjoy a moment with another. "I might consider it, Juan. But I need permission from my mother—"Suddenly her cell phone was forcibly snatched away. Moreau wanted to protest, but she didn't have enough time when Abihirt's deep, raspy voice said something, leaving her speechless. "Moreau isn't going anywhere." Then, turn off the phone line without any guilt. "You—why did you do that?" asked Moreau half-angrily, barely able to choose the most appropriate words or simply drop her attention to the cell phone tossed carelessly on the bed—though eventually having to look up to observe Abihirt's face for as long as the man re
[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