Chapter 79
CHAPTER 79
BETH
“Y ou’re late,” Vera says with a disappointed edge to her gaze.
My eyes widen as she lets us into her cabin. “Late? You said an hour.”
“It’s been sixty-three minutes,” Oliver adds.
She scowls at him. “When I say be here in an hour, I mean to be here and sitting at my table by the fifty-eight-minute mark. If you aren’t, you’re late. I wait around for no one.”
Wow. Vera is very particular, which I gotta respect. She knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to demand it.
Oliver goes to open his mouth, probably to say something stupid that will surely start an argument with our host, so I slap his chest and speak for him. “We’ll be sure to keep that in mind for the future. Thank you for opening your home to us. I really appreciate it, Vera.”
Oliver grumbles something unintelligible under his breath that I sincerely hope Vera didn’t hear. Fucking asshole. I love that asshole, but he’s still a stupid asshole.
Vera nods before turning, expecting us to follow her.
“You’re in an unusual situation, child. My niece never asks me for a favor. When she does, I always come through.” She guides us through her house full of taxidermy and old paintings with a Russian flare to them until we make it to the kitchen. Her kitchen is small and simple, with only three chairs around the table.
For a moment, I worry about the indoor plumbing of her property when I see the big red bucket under her sink and the lack of pipes, but my attention span isn’t the best.
“Sit,” she demands as she motions to the table, irritation across her face.
I expected some type of cuisine relative to her heritage, but from what I can tell, it’s just regular spaghetti and meatballs with garlic bread.
Ollie and I sit at the table, and Vera sits across from us. I have no idea if we should serve ourselves or if she wants to say grace. Is she religious?
“Eat! I’m not getting any younger.”
That answers my question.
Fully cautious of how any wrong move could upset our savior, I grab the bowl and serving spoon before loading a little on my plate. I still get residual morning sickness, and I would hate to offend this woman by vomiting up her food simply because I ate too much, even though I’m starving.
Next, Ollie fills his plate, his gaze dancing between me and Vera as I take a small bite of the spaghetti. I instantly salivate from the delicious blend of spices exploding on my tongue. Holy shit. Vera is a bomb-ass cook!
I try my best not to look like a starved beast as I chow down on the food.
“Why aren’t you going with the traditional method?” Vera speaks up, sipping her glass of either water or vodka, but given the alcohol scent wafting toward me, I’d go with vodka.
“Method? What do you mean?” I ask as I use my napkin, which is just a folded-up paper towel to wipe the red sauce from my lips. If she asks a question, I’ll answer it honestly.
“Adoption, of course.”
If I was eating or drinking right now, I’d choke from my shock at the word.
“Adoption?!”
Her eyes widen, then narrow into slits. “Yes,” she mutters like she’s on the edge of snapping at me. “My niece is adopting your child, correct?”
“No, that’s not correct at all.”
Let’s be clear: I have nothing against adoption. Some children are better off without their birth parents in their lives, and there are so many loving people in the world who can’t have children of their own or just want to help children who have not been adopted yet.
“I’m sorry.” A small gasp leaves my lips as I try to get my panic under control.
Is that seriously what Judy told her? What the actual fuck! Judy is my best friend, but I’m not giving Rian to her to keep. He’s my son. This is something that won’t last forever and is just to keep him safe from Nolan.
“That’s not the plan we had in place with Gunderson,” Ollie says quickly. “It’s temporary.”
I’m glad he can speak through the shock. I sure as fuck can’t.
“I see,” Vera mumbles before her fork clatters with the plate. “Explain to me why you would temporarily give your child to someone and expect them to give the child back when you see fit.”
I’m still in a state of shock, so Ollie explains what he can since I haven’t told him every last detail, and Vera just listens, sipping her vodka so nonchalantly it’s unnerving.
“You made a deal with the devil, child. Don’t be surprised when you’re impaled by his horns.” Vera is so unaffected, and yet the brutality behind her words makes me flinch. I was never surprised by Nolan’s horns. I just didn’t want them to hurt my baby.
It’s pretty clear that she’s dismissing us with those words. I’m not surprised the only reason she was willing to help us was she thought that I was just going to let Judy adopt my son permanently.
“Thank you for the food, Vera,” I say before I stand. “Let’s go.” I place my hand on Ollie’s shoulder, and he starts to stand, ready to leave with me, but Vera whistles, completely unamused.
“Sit down, child,” she demands vehemently. “You’re not going anywhere.”
The tension in my shoulders relax. Really, where do we have to go? I mean, we could theoretically go to Washington, where Casey, Delaney, and Teigan are, but Nolan might look for me there. If they find me in Washington, they’ll also find Casey, who is a little more pregnant than I am.
I sit back down in my seat, and Ollie holds my hand under the table, offering me whatever he can without being too affectionate.
“You stay until Judy arrives, and we can sort this out. I’m not putting a pregnant woman and her friend out on the street in the midst of such a precarious situation,” Vera explains before turning her gaze to Oliver. “Are you the father, Behemoth?”
He scowls. “Of course I am.”
Out of nowhere, Vera picks up the rolled-up newspaper with a rubberband around it that sat on the table next to her and whacks him upside the head. A part of me is scared that he’s going to murder her for doing something like that, but that portion is small. The rest of me laughs. Vera has some major balls on her.
“Shame on you.” She mutters something that I assume is a line of curses in a foreign language before snapping the newspaper on the table.
Oliver sends her a death glare that he used to look at me with daily before he fell in love with me. However, Vera is not deterred.
“You are the man. This–” she motions to my stomach. “–is your fault, your responsibility. You put her in this position with your mediocre penis.”
My hand slams over my mouth as I struggle not to roar with laughter. Oliver’s penis is anything but mediocre. It is very much a joystick.
Then, Vera whacks him again, and I swear his eye twitches with fury, but he doesn’t move. “And this girl is way too young for a man your age. She’s just a child, you cradle robber.”
That one is not funny, yet Oliver’s rage turns to a puddle on the floor, and he chuckles as he shakes his head.
“I’m not a child,” I deny as I scowl at her.
“The only reason I’m not hitting you with this is because of the bun in your oven.” She threatens me with the newspaper. “Besides, how old are you? Sixteen, maybe?”
My eyes widen. I’ve been told I look older, not younger. That’s why Ollie flipped out when he found out how old I really am. He thought I was in my twenties, not my teens.
“I’m almost nineteen. I’m an adult.”
“You’re still a child until you’re twenty-five, and I can tell he is older than that.” She sneers at Ollie, who just gives me an I told you so look. “And double shame on you, mister. You had no business around a girl her age. You had no right to her virtue.” Then, Vera slaps Ollie with the newspaper one last time for added measure. “Bad dog.”
His eyes narrow before he mutters, “Woof, woof.” I slam my hand on my mouth before how hard his rebuttal made me laugh.
“No dinner for you.” She stands up, pushes Ollie’s plate away from him, and leaves the room, calling out to us. “Breakfast is at eight a.m. Don’t be late this time.”
I barely even register her announcing what time to come over in the morning. I’m too stuck on what she said before all that banter with my crazy man.
“She thinks I gave you my virginity?” I nearly laugh, but the serious expression on Ollie’s face sobers me as he leans into my ear, growling.
“I really wish I fucking had, baby.” A quiet gasp falls from my lips as Oliver trails his fingers up my bare legs to my thin lace thong. My eyes dash the way Vera disappeared as he runs his knuckles along my pussy through the thin fabric. In an instant, my eyes roll to the back of my head, and all thoughts of Vera disappear. “I could just imagine sinking my cock inside you, using your blood as lube, seeing those tears down your face. I’d take you hard. We both know you’d love that. You like the pain. Your cunt would be all mine. Just my cock punishing your poor little cunt. Now, let me play with my pussy, crazy girl.”
He literally just described what happens anytime we go more than a week without having sex.
Without needing any further instruction, I reach between my thighs and push my thong to the side. He doesn’t wait another moment to run his fingers up my slit, torturing me teasingly. I whimper as he growls in my ear.
“So fucking wet for me.”
“It’s all that dirty talk. You know just how to get me going.”
He chuckles darkly and runs his tongue up the length of my neck before nipping at my jaw. “I can do more than get you going. I can get you past the finish line again and again and again in the first few minutes.”
My mind fogs with lust as I lift my hips toward his fingers, even though it sends a sharp pain down my leg, and he pulls his hand back.
“Nooo.”
“If I have to suffer, so do you.”
Fucking prick. However, he is right. In what way is it fair if I get off while unable to return the favor? I really want to give him a release, but the bruising makes that impossible. Maybe if we can figure out a position we could do things in without hurting my healing muscles, then I could make him feel good.