I stir as I feel lips graze my earlobe. A shiver runs down my body as it becomes reacquainted with the familiar touch.
He calls my name as he plants soft, tantalizing kiss on my neck after brushing away my blonde hair.
"I like the new look,” he whispers as his fingers run through my hair.
His body presses against mine from behind and goose bumps rise as he skims the skin beneath my peach tank top. He nozzles my neck, his tongue darting out to lick the crook and I release a pleased sigh.
My body heats up and my back arches as his cold fingers graze my breast alerting my nipples with his cold touch. He plays with my nipple between his fingers and I jut at the caress. His other hand trails my spine causing me to arch further into his touch as pants escape my lips.
What is he doing here? How did he- oh god!
His hand rests on my ass groping it affectionately. My body burns with passion and I release strangled breaths as I try to calm myself.
He tortures my neck with small nibbles and kisses sending my body into a place of ecstatic sensations. His touch makes my body react in so many ways. I feel my body relax at his touches and the way he praises my body makes me want to give myself to him.
I groan and moan turning to face him. His lips connect with mine and I growl in content. His hands tighten on my hips as he pulls my body flush on his.
His hands move down into my blue shorts leaving a heated trail as they descend. I moan in his mouth fisting his silky, smooth hair and biting his lips provocatively.
He growls as his fingers feel my wetness. He plays with my soft flesh causing me to trash and jut with moans and pleas escaping my mouth into his. I can feel my body working its way to the breaking point as he plays with my bundle of nerves causing me to grip his shoulders and move my body teasingly against his.
“Open your eyes,” he whispers in my ear.
Up until this moment I haven’t even noticed that my eyes are closed and I didn’t know who my provocative partner is. My body knows his touches but my mind is in denial that it is who I think it is.
I open my eyes slowly and my lips part as I suck in a breath.
Johnattan. How is he here?
"My beautiful Christi,” he grins.
“Johnattan -” he cuts me off with a kiss and my eyes close.
He commands my body to oblivion with his erotic caresses and my mind is too jumbled to register the wrong in making love to him. I open my eyes to look into his erotic blue ones and my brain rushes forth memories. My heart beats faster and his face changes. I try to push him off but he grabs my wrists as he continues to ravish my core with his hardened cock.
Those erotic eyes now become ice cold, his lips pull back in a smirk and his blonde hair clings to his forehead. Johnattan is no longer above me, Liam is.
“You are mine and only mine Christina!” He yells as I trash beneath him with tears welling up in my eyes.
“Get off me!”
“Mine! My toy! Mine to make and break!”
“No,” I whimper. “Let go!”
“You’ll never be happy! No one will want you! You’re useless!”
My body hits its high and I cry out as I jut forward in my bed. Sweat beads my forehead and I find myself hyperventilating as I try to steady my galloping heartbeat. Tears run down my face and I lie down curling into a ball as I cry.
This is has been norm since I ran from Johnattan. Every night I would dream of him only for him to become Liam and hurt me physically and mentally. I would wake up at two in the mornings only to cry myself to sleep before rising to get ready for work. It seems my mind is punishing me by making me relive those feelings and the worse part about it? I can’t stop it. I’m stuck reliving the pain.
“Izzy! Get this to table seven,” Cheverlie commands as she hands me the tray from across the shell pink polished counter.
“Sure thing Chev,” I reply as I balance the tray in one hand and walk over to the couple near the glass window with Klan’s Diner plastered on it.
“Here you are,” I beam as I give them their order and confirm the meal.
They thank me before I scoot over to the counter through the clusters of tables. My pink flats tap against the white and pink tiled floor as I make my way towards the food delivery area.
“Hey waitress!” A man calls after me.
“Yes, how may I help you?” I ask politely as I place my free hand on my hip.
“Can you move that antenna or do something so the TV will work. It’s out again,” he replies pointing to the small flat screen mounted on the cream wall.
I nod as I take an empty chair and climb up to the TV after placing the tray on the table. I reach to the back and switch it off before turning it on again. It still shows static and the men behind me groan. I switch stations until it starts to show something. The people cheer and I climb down from my chair.
I put it where it belongs before grabbing the tray and darting to the food area not missing a guy who comments on the fact that ‘this one wears shorts’. I shake my head at him. Horny bastard.
My uniform consists of a pink marina - this because it’s summer but other times it’s a sleeved shirt - with Klan’s written on it in white, a black, short pleated skirt and pink heels or flats. The skirts as I’ve said before are super short and some waitresses forget that little fact when they decide not to wear shorts.
I walk over to the counter beside Chev whose black kinky curls are in a high ponytail - away from her oval shaped, ebony face - with curls at the top, same with mine. Her dark eyes stare dreamily at the TV and I furrow my brows at what’s so interesting.
My eyes widen at Johnattan Blake who stands in front of the new orphanage - that I helped to design - speaking to the press.
He’s in a black suit that hugs his chiselled body oh so nicely. His hair has grown out but it is gelled back and brushes his shoulders.
His eyes seem duller, even from the TV screen I notice this. His smiles are forced and his posture is strained but it relaxes as the children cling to him.
I notice the faces of the children as the camera zooms in on them and I smile. Orvalee, Daeshaun and Demar.
Chev grabs the remote from the counter turning up the TV and my ears perk as the reporter from NYN interviews him.
“We are here in front of the new Blake’s Orphanage in New York and none other than Mr Johnattan Blake is here to give us an insight on the challenges faced in the construction of this building,” the reporter in a short black skirt-suit says as she smiles at Johnattan. “Mr Blake?”
“Oh yes, thanks Cecile. This orphanage took quite a while to establish. We are a month behind on the opening day that had been scheduled but nevertheless it’s completed. This would not have been possible without the help of the workers at Blake’s Architecture and Construction and also this wouldn’t be possible without the help of Ms Christina Hase, top interior designer from Cali Styles.”
I freeze as he says my name and my boss pops from his office eyes glue to the television. He’s around fifty with a mixture of black and grey hair, a moustache and calm brown eyes.
Upon my employment at this establishment I had told him my real name and that I wished to not be called or registered as a worker under that name. To say he was shocked is an understatement. He asked if I was running from the law or if I was involved in something illegal and some other crazy things but I assured him I was not. I prompted him to do a background check on me - if he wished to settle his wondering mind - and after doing that he accepted my request. When he asked why I wished not to be called by my real name I told him it was a personal reason and he didn’t push any farther.
He registered me under the books - so if there was a search it wouldn’t be known that I worked here-, paid me in cash and when needed he requests my input on what could boost his business since I was an interior designer.
For the advice he also pays me extra when they prove effective. To sum it up he’s a good boss.
He throws me a look of curiosity as Johnattan speaks about me and I avoid his look focusing on the TV.
“It was her ideas that helped to make this orphanage feel like a home to these children. Adding comfort, familiarity and happiness to their new home,” he says as a smile graces his lips, a real one. “She is a gifted designer and without her expertise we wouldn’t have completed this home for these needy, beautiful children.”
“Yeah, I got a Barbie sticker on the wall above my bed and the room is a pretty pinkish purple colour,” Orvalee says in excitement.
“They even made us dip our hands in paint and place them on the walls to decorate!” Demar adds with a bright smile.
“Yeah, that was fun! I love it here,” Daeshaun gushes.
The reporter laughs as she gushes at the children and Johnattan smiles at them happily.
They’re so cute I just want to eat ’em up.
“So where is this Christina Hase?” Cecile asks taking the attention off the children and onto Johnattan. “How comes she’s not here to accept her praises for the work she placed into this establishment?”
Johnattan’s smile flatters and he covers it up with a smaller one. “She’s away. Personal reasons.”
“There had been rumours that you and Christina were a couple. The tabloids have seen you guys together a few times and claimed that a romance was brewing between you two. Is that claim true?”
Reporters are such fucking nosy people. What, you want to know if you can get in his pants? Well you better back the fuck away from my man.
He’s not yours Tina, my subconscious reminds me and I sigh.
You’re right I’ve given him up so he’s no longer mine. I reply sorrowfully.
Johnattan shakes his head at Cecile and her probing question, squeezing the boys’ shoulders. “Cecile we are here to talk about the children not my love life. Next question.”
She pouts and he raises a brow. “Fine I’ll move on.”
“Good,” he smiles. A really small one.
She continues after a pause asking questions related to the orphanage, forgetting about our brewing romance.
I take my eyes off the TV to see my boss raising a wondering brow. I shake my head as I look away and he nods with a coy smile on his lips returning to his office.
“That Johnattan Blake is damn drool worthy,” Chev comments. “He must have abs of steel.”
They do look that way but they make a comfy pillow.
“Wouldn’t you want to have a toss between the sheets with him Izzy?” She asks as she pops her elbows on the counter resting her chin in her palms.
I’ll give anything to be with him again.
“Yeah sure, he’s good looking,” I say dismissively.
"Good looking? Honey, he looks like he could be an angel in disguise. His chin looks like it can literally cut diamonds and his body looks chiselled,” she blushes as she stares at my Johnattan. “I would jump him if I got the chance.”
I hum as I try to shake the pang of jealousy within me.
“I wonder why that Christina left him?” she mutters softly to herself but my trained ears catch it. “She must have been a real idiot to give up all that.”
I-I know but I had reasons why I couldn’t stay. I can’t make Johnattan happy. I c-can’t. I-I’m useless...
I feel my body shake but it’s not in fright, pain or anger. I grip the counter as the ground shakes beneath my feet. The dishes in the kitchen behind us chatter as they shake, the tables tremble and the lights blink on and off as the shaking gets worse. I stumble over to a door frame dodging falling objects such as cups and brace as the tremor passes.
A few people find refuge under the tables, others are too shocked to move so they remain at the exact places they were before the tremor. A few waitresses have trays over their heads as if they can protect them from falling objects.
I look at Chev who is still at the counter a hand over her chest. She breathes deeply trying to calm herself.
“I swear these tremors are getting worse,” she says as she grabs a bottle of water and downs it.
She is sweaty and tensed. The water bottle shakes in her hand, water spilling from her trembling lips.
I shake my head as I walk over to her and help with clean up. These tremors are getting closer together and increasing in magnitude which means an earthquake is on its way. But when is the question left unanswered.
I just hope it won’t be disastrous for us here.ma Perv 😍😘😛😘