Paxton slid Ophelia down his body and to her feet to take my hand. We stood hand in hand, talking to the neighbors I didn’t know. I heard about the therapy I would be doing for the first time when Paxton explained it to my neighbors. He and Tricia talked about the schedule for the girls for the next few days, and I stood. Holding his hand, and feigning love while he did the talking for me. I had a feeling that happened a lot with him. It didn’t even matter. I couldn’t have explained any of that. My girls were busy. Gymnastics, Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Art camp every afternoon at two. Piano lessons Wednesday morning. Play school every Friday. Tee-ball Saturday mornings, and youth golf Saturday afternoon. Jesus. I would never keep up with all that. Youth golf? What the hell was that? Art camp?
My neighbors wished me well, and Tricia assured me she had everything under control. Not to worry about anything except getting better. I thanked her for lunch, and all her help.
As soon as our friends were out of sight, Paxton let go of my hand. Aahh, so it was that way, huh? The only display of affection between us was in public. Fake.
“Go to your room. I’ll bring your pain pills,” he quietly ordered while he led the girls inside and left me to fend for myself. Asshole.
I could hear the girls, whining, requesting their mommy lay them down. Paxton reminded them that I was hurt and they moved along. I didn’t do anything. I didn’t even go to them. Paxton took care of them. I was so lost. So far out of touch. There are no words to describe it. It was like I knew I didn’t belong with Paxton Pierce, but I belonged with those girls.
My eyes met Paxton’s as I passed the bathroom. He was leaned against the sink, swiping his finger over his phone. Rowan and Ophelia were too busy arguing over the soap again to notice. His gaze rose without lifting his head. Our eyes locked for a second and I continued on without a spoken word.
Once I had gone to the bathroom myself, I pulled the curtain closed and laid down. A heavy sigh filled the room with anxiety. I had already figured out that Paxton was far from nocturnal. I was pretty sure Paxton got what he wanted day or night.
Prolonged exposure to the sun and the madness going on around me enervated me. I was emotionally drained. That changed when Paxton joined me, water and pill in hand.
“Who is this, Gabriella?” he questioned with a phone held toward me.
I looked up confused. It was a door handle inside a car, and something brown with a thick texture. A wallet or a purse maybe. A barely visible arm was just above the door and that was it. How the hell was I supposed to know?
“You want me to guess what that is?”
Paxton took the glass of water from my hand and sat it on the stand. “I want you to tell me who was with you. This is your car. Who is this? This was taken fifteen minutes after you left here.”
“Maybe it was one of our neighbors. Shayla or Trisha.”
“No. It’s not. I’ve asked them all. None of them know. You don’t know anyone else. You don’t talk to anyone outside this development. Who the fuck is this, Gabriella? Something’s not right here. I know you. This isn’t like you, but I’m going to figure it out. I’m going to figure out where you were going, who was with you, and why.”
“That’s great, Pax. Maybe you can share that info with me after you’re done playing detective.”
Paxton didn’t say a word. His eyes bore deep into mine with more than a hint of anger. I didn’t even correct myself. That was stupid. Why couldn’t I call him Pax? What was the big deal?
“See? That’s what I mean, Gabriella,” he quietly said as a finger slid down my leg and cold eyes held my stare. “You never called me Pax. You wouldn’t dare call me anything but Paxton. You keep doing it. Either you’ve got brass balls, or you like what I do to you. I bet your * is already wet. Is it, Gabriella? Hmmm? Is your * throbbing?”
I didn’t answer. There were too many crazy things going on in my body. My heart beat so loud I could hear it in my ears, adrenaline flooded my veins, and my vagina betrayed me. A urgency formed between my legs. At first it was just a faint pulsating here or there. It was when he started sliding my shorts over my hips that it sped up. Quicker, harder thumps.
“You have no idea how much I want to bend you over my knee right now. I promise you one thing. Once I get the go ahead from your doctor, you’re going to get the spanking of your life. I’ll make sure you don’t forget it,” Paxton threatened.
I didn’t speak. I anticipated a spanking with an overzealous tremble between my legs. That’s it. I was a glorified whore and I liked it. Jesus. My hips rolled from one side to the other, helping Paxton with my panties.
He peeled the front back first. The cool draft brushed past my lips while I waited for him to remove the thong. Paxton carefully lifted my leg and pulled the string from my ass. He did it a couple more times before, sliding them from my ankles. Next was my shirt. He slid it up and latched on to my left nipple with a twist. A sharp pain went from there to my throbbing sex. Instantly. There was no doubt in my mind I was wet. Jesus. Something was seriously wrong with me.
Once Paxton helped me out of all my clothes, he strode over to the locked armoire, pulling his shirt over his head. I arched my eyebrows while taking in his physique. Jeans hung low on his hips. A gray band peered from his slender waist, exposing a tan line.