Michael Jackson Imagines

Off Limits Part 13

Five Months Earlier...

"Where the fuck is he!?" I huff while tossing my phone on the island counter.

I am pissed. Matter of fact, I am livid. This is becoming a routine, and it's becoming quite exhausting. The question that keeps coming into the back of my mind is...Why the hell am I allowing this type of behavior from him? Here I am, all dressed and ready for the "date" he seemed more than anxious to take me on. It's well over an hour since he was supposed to pick me up. I haven't heard a peep from him. Every time I call, his phone goes straight to voicemail.

After the third attempt, I decided to give up. It's obvious something (or someone) else has occupied his time and attention. I can't help but feel pissed. But...why? Our attraction was only on the physical level. If that's the case, why are my panties in a bunch over being stood up? Was it the way he stroked my hair while whispering sweet nothings in my ear, with his cock buried in my essence just two nights ago? Maybe it was the way how he held me, right after talking about he would love to take me out on the town?

I slip out of my sexy little number, hanging it back up in my closet. Bummer. I got all dolled up for nothing. I think Michael would've lost his damn mind if he saw exactly what I had on for him tonight. It probably would've taken all my strength to pry his hands off of me. Oh well...It's too late for that now...

By the time I slip into my robe, I fix a glass of wine. I take my glass and the bottle back to the room, and turn in for the night...

I have no idea what time it is...All I know is I am awakened by excessive knocking. Once I gather myself, I look briefly at my phone that is on the nightstand. Who the hell could this be at one in the morning? The knocking continues, and I find myself growing annoyed.

I slip into my robe, hurrying to the door.

"Alright, alright! I'm coming," I say while sliding the lock off the door.

When I open the door, I finally lock eyes with who is standing before me. And when I see him...I roll my eyes...The nerve of him to show up after standing me up. I find myself shaking my head in disgust while attempting to slam the door...

"No, don't!"

Michael places his hand on the door, forcing it open once again. And without my permission, steps across the threshold inside my home...

"You have every right to be mad at me."

"When did I grant you permission to come inside? That's first and foremost." I push him out of the doorway. Michael backs up outside the door...

"I get it. I'm an asshole. Can I come inside? That way, I can explain."

He holds in his hands in a prayer position while giving me the sad, puppy dog eyes.

"There's no explanation needed to confirm you're a dick. You know, you could've at least had the balls to call me and say you couldn't make it. Hell, or tell me there's someone else. It would be better than having egg on my face, Michael."

I slam the door shut, locking it right afterward. Rubbing the back of my neck does relieve the excess stress I feel. I am hella tense and...angry. Fuck him for making me feel this way.

"I really wanted to see you tonight, Toni. I swear on everything I did."

His voice makes me briefly stop in my tracks...I must not fall for the temptation...I continue walking once more.

"If I have to say I am sorry a thousand times, I will. Just, please don't leave me this way, baby. I hate this feeling of you being mad at me."