Miranda

Chapter Thirteen

"Sometimes it's not the people who change, it's the mask that falls off."

― Anonymous

~Miranda~

I was pouty all the way back to my apartment, I didn't like being sent home, I really needed those hours. I was banking on taking home nearly $300 today and this little break would cost me $50 of it.

"Is my little whore still jealous about the big bad teenager?" his patronizing tone aggravates me even more.

"No" I snipe at him. "Your little whore is pissed off because I am losing out on 3 hours of work and over time because that spoiled brat caused me to lose my temper." I cross my arms like a child throwing a temper tantrum. " And it is partially your fault because you have been playing a fucked-up game with me all day and I want my damn panties back!" I am shouting at him, glad we are in the truck because the whole store would have heard me by now.

He just chuckles at me again as we pull into my parking spot.

We barely get through my door before Justin is trying to get my shirt off. His hands are everywhere, and his mouth is on mine. The heat I have been tamping down all day flares to life, the space between my legs is throbbing with need. He knows it too. Justin stops kissing me and holds me at arm's length. "What is it that you need little whore?" his eyes have a devilish gleam in them. "Just say the words and I will make it all better." He is still playing this asinine game, taunting me.

"I need you" I half whisper the words. He takes a step closer and puts his mouth near my neck, sliding his hand between my legs and pushing a single finger into me. It is so wet and slick that there is no resistance, I squirm against it, trying to get more relief.

"I don't think you need it enough" his hot breath on my neck sending shivers down my spine. He twirls the finger inside of me, I groan as my eyes slide shut, it's almost enough but not quite.

"I think you need to wait a little longer. I want dinner first."

My eyes snap open when he removes his hand from me and walks to the kitchen, licking my juices off his fingers.

Is he fucking serious? It's been all day and aside from a hasty orgasm this morning, there has been nothing but the sharp edge of orgasms that never come. I just stand in my living room, speechless.

"You have no food here" he barks at me.

"I have Raman and there is cereal." I bark back, arms crossed again over my now partially unbuttoned shirt. He turns his head and gives me a disapproving glare and I relent, letting my arms fall back down to my sides, embarrassed by my behavior over the last half hour.

"That isn't food, that is starving college student starter kit. Have you not gone to the grocery store this week?" he has the I am the boss voice down pat. I roll my eyes at him.

"No, this is all I can afford, so this is all that I eat." I have lost all patience with him.

"Well I figured with that ass of yours I would find all sorts of junk in the freezer, a frozen pizza at minimum." I look down at myself, I mean I am not what anyone would call fat, but my hips are pretty wide, its genetic. I suddenly feel self-conscious and cross my arms over my abdomen. Justin pulls out his phone.

"I am calling for Chinese, you good with sweet and sour chicken?"

I nod and go sit on the couch while he speed dials the Chinese place that I know is only a mile from here. He must eat there often because he rattles off items from the menu like a pro. He turns to me when he is done.