Michael Jackson -- August 4th, 1994 Location: 5225 Figueroa Mountain Rd.
ओह! यह छवि हमारे सामग्री दिशानिर्देशों का पालन नहीं करती है। प्रकाशन जारी रखने के लिए, कृपया इसे हटा दें या कोई भिन्न छवि अपलोड करें।
"Ow! That's too much!" Ana moaned in pain.
"Sorry." I smiled apologetically. "Do you want me to stop?"
"No, keep going."
I shrugged lightly and grabbed the oil to put some more on my hands. After I drizzled just enough, I ran my hands up her bare back, applying some pressure. Again, she moaned and put her head down, loosening up just a bit more for me to continue.
For the first time since Ana's deal with Tommy, we both had a little time off of work to spend together alone. I never knew how much we both needed it until now. During the first few days of our time off, we both visited our families a spent a few hours with them. Then of course had to go and visit our friends. We had a private dinner with them, talked, laughed, joked around, and more. Now these last few days were for us.
I've noticed how those sweet intimate moments between us were rare and it shouldn't be. No matter how busy we are and come to be, we should still make time for each other. That's apart of love, of being together. The time shouldn't be limited at all, but unlimited.
I never knew how to perform massaging methods on people, and I'm sure that I'm showcasing just how inexperienced I am with that right now. Every now and then, Ana would tense up or wince in pain when I massaged a certain spot, but not once has she told me to stop. Maybe I was doing it too hard and she didn't want to be rude? Or maybe her body was that sore from working and she was feeling just how sore it is.
Either way, I continued on, trying my best to mimick those people in the little romatic movies that caters to their partner's needs. I had candles set up around the room to set the mood and Luther Vandross playing softly on my record player. We had two wine glasses on the nightstand halfway filled with sparkling water, and a small plate of baked cookies. Courtesy of Madeline herself.
The house was quiet just how I liked it. I sent Nate on the prowl to solve what I couldn't with this Raye situation. For some reason, there was nothing here out of the ordinary that would crack the code to this 'case'. And if there was really nothing else, why did she drug me in the first place? Was it a game to her? To mock what had happened between Brooke and I? If those two reasons were the case, it still doesn't make it right. I still don't want her around or near Ana ever again, and I'll do anything to keep it from happening.
And if that wasn't enough stress piled on me, plus the recording sessions with the album, I still had court dates with Brooke. The news broke out that I had officially served her the papers. I was taking her to court, both to maintain my innocence, and to show just how twisted she really is. We had more than enough evidence, and with Holly as my witness, I'm definitely going to win the case fair and square. I've requested that there will be no reports on the day of, nor will there be any news trucks and paparazzi standing outside awaiting the news. This was real, not a publicity opportunity.
