Chapter 42: Chapter 42

I get out of the shower and start getting ready. Wondering why? Well, it’s Friday, and to make it more voluptuous and heart-stirring, it is past 4 p.m. You still don’t get it, right? Eyes roll!

Dang!

It is the start of our magical weekend. Time to have everything in between pleasure and contentment and anything within the margin of merriment. This is what we do all weekend. Since that witch will leave in a couple of minutes, or maybe she has already left, we are also stepping out like always to camp in our pleasure room at the hotel. And, ooh, I cannot just wait to get there.

I cannot wait to be all alone with Liam. I cannot wait to be in his loving arms once again, to tell each other how much we mean to each other, how we need each other, and how much we love each other. And I cannot begin to imagine the pleasure and satisfaction that await us. I am already wetting my pants at the mere whim of that.

I don’t take so much time getting ready. I do zero makeup. I am just a simple girl. I keep it real and original. Soon after, I am sliding my flat shoes all ready, dolly, and bubbly to usher the weekend in style with my boo.

I won’t negate that Mitch’s message earlier today still hangs like a dark cloud in my head, but I always manage to leave all the problems back in this house whenever we do this. She is not worth wrecking the little sweet heaven we have created for ourselves in this ugly-fugly world. So, even so, whatever she thinks the dawn will bring to me and Liam will not perturb me for these three days.

I walk to the mirror with the phone in my hand. I am waiting for that analogous text that I always get from Liam when the bitch steps out so that I can meet him downstairs. Or sometimes he just surprises me by budging in here and carrying me in bridal style to the car. Whether he texts, calls, or budges in here, I will still be elated.

A wide grin is besotted on my face as I caress the tiny belly bump under my dress. “It is that time of the week for your daddy and mommy to dive into cloud nine, baby. I am certain that your daddy cannot wait to rustle to you and caress you, telling you how much he loves you. But hey, don’t go all jealous and berserk when we abandon you here and there and get down to our sweet, naughty stuff. You see, this is the only time we have, but we will try to balance. We love you so much, baby.” I walk back to the bed when I am done, growing restless from waiting.

The anxiety of stepping out of this hell of a house is probably getting me paranoid. I rest on the bed while still caressing my bump with one hand while the other hugs the phone tight. My eyes are also glued to the phone so that I can jump out of bed the moment the message pops up.

“I cannot wait to hold you in my arms, baby!” I whisper, rubbing my thumb on it.

I was denied that joy before! I was so anticipating and anxious for that feeling back from them. But I only saw my baby from a distance. I only heard one loud cry that rings in my mind up to date. I saw her being rushed out to be checked when her cry faded. The next time I saw her, she was a sleeping angel—unbreathing, unmoving. I can’t even tell how her eyes looked.

“But you will compensate for all that pain, baby! You will finally give me the satisfaction of holding you in my arms, seeing your beautiful smile, and taking care of you until I leave this world. Mommy and Daddy will give you all the happiness in this world!” I whimper again and get up from bed when I realize I am getting emotional.

I always do. Is there a way to overcome this trauma? Because sometimes I feel like I am not doing enough to move away from what happened to me. But God knows, I try my best. I do try.

The clock ticks to 5 o’clock!

I checked my phone for the cognitive content that maybe Liam texted, but I failed to hear it. But there are none. It is late. That witch ought to have left by now. Why isn’t there any sign that she is already out?

Seconds pass, turning into long fretful moments with my paranoia rising! It clocks at half past five. Now, this is distressing. She has never been this late to leave. Or, are they having a fight? You can never be too sure with these two rivals.

I take off my shoes and slip my saddles on. I also put on a hoodie on top and walked out. I don’t want to enkindle unfounded hunches and accusations just in case I run into her. I walk down the stairs with curiosity and anxiety driving me.

I get to the sitting room, and I find them here. The good thing is that they are not at each other’s throats as always, and they are not sitting together. They are both perched on the farthest corners of the L-shaped seven-seater couch, each buried on the phone. I was about to sigh in assuagement, but the riling part of the situation spanks me—what on earth is she doing here all equanimously on the couch like she is supposed to be here? Isn’t she supposed to be twerking her ass off and drinking her soul out with her friends at the club? I hope she is not parading her witchcraft by trying to ruin our plans.

Liam gets wind of my confused state and decides to snap me out of it by text message. I didn’t know it was him when the phone buzzed. I thought it was those annoying promotional messages or the con bastards.

Liam: Hey! Lost as I am?

So, he also does not know what this bitch is up to? What is she up to?

Me: I am. Can I kill her?

Liam: Naah! Let us wait and see what her plan is.

Bitter sigh! My mind is already in that room with him under the sheets. How can I calm my urge down until only God knows when? I seriously feel like killing this bitch.

Me: okay. So, should I go back to my room then?

Damn! I want to at least be able to see him until this bitch leaves our sight. I might jump right on top of him on this couch the minute she vanishes.

Liam: No. Just make yourself comfortable somewhere on the couch. My eyes will do what my cock cannot do at the moment. Xxx

Damn! He is such a flirt!

And his magic is working because my pussycat is throbbing at the mention of his cock. Goodness! It should be stroking my walls at the moment, inching into me slow and sweet, or rough and sweet. Whatever the case, as long as it is hugged between my tight walls, it would be a haven. If only this witch would stop being such a

“Will you get your disgusting self out of my sight? Better go back to that room of yours because your presence stinks!” I am startled by the pissed-off voice of this witch.

My presence is not needed here. Says who? And why?

“She has the right to be anywhere she feels like, Mitch!” Liam states.

“I know, but today I want her to stay locked up in the room. I have special guests coming in in a few,, and she can’t be seen roaming around at all costs. They cannot catch sight of her ugly face!” Mitch states, racking to her feet to block my way.

Guests? What kind of guests is she bringing in, and why can’t they see me? Wait, does that mean that she has robbed us of this night? What kind of evil witch is this one? And since when did she start bringing guests home?