Recovery (Sequel to Been You)

Chapter 69: Mom With Me

ELYSANDRA'S POV:

Once we get home, Justin grabs my hand, pulling me upstairs. He seems super eager, which flatters me, but I'm still super nervous. When we get to his room, he closes the door behind himself, gripping my waist. "Wait, let me put my things away," I say, stepping away. Justin just stands there, watching me. "Turn around!"

"Sorry, babe," he excuses, turning around. I put the plastic bag with the box in it into my makeup bag discreetly. At the sound of me zipping it back Justin asks, "Can I fool around with my girlfriend now?" I roll my eyes at his immaturity.

"Yes, Justin," I laugh. He immediately makes his way over to me, picking me up and laying me on his bed. He climbs on top of me, his eyebrows rising and falling. I crane my neck up to kiss him, getting excited myself. His hands grip my sides beneath my sweater.

"Oh, baby, you're so hot," he says into my mouth.

"Take your shirt off," I order, his need fueling mine. He sits up to pull his shirt over his head, smirking down at me mischievously. He comes back down to kiss me, when I try my best to flip myself over so that I'm on top. I'm not strong enough, however, leaving me on the bottom. My efforts cause Justin to pin my wrists to the bed, holding me below him.

"Not this time, baby girl. I'm gonna beat that pussy up," he growls while grinding his hips on mine. Just as he's saying this, the sound of his door creeping open fills the room. Although I'm aware that we are being interrupted, it's too late for me to stifle the moan that escapes my lips.

"Justin Drew Bieber!" His mom yells, startled. Fuck. I push Justin off of me embarrassedly. Not distanced enough from the situation, he nervously slides over to the doorframe where his mother is standing, blocking me from her line of sight.

"Yes, mom?" Justin asks with a nervous smile that I can hear in his voice. I get up from the bed, also trying to erase any evidence of what just happened.

"Dinner's ready," she says with a disgusted expression. "Put a shirt on, Justin," she orders, looking Justin up and down.

"Sorry, Mom," I say guiltily. Wait, Mom? Oh shit. Oh my god. I feel my face heating up with embarrassment, my jaw falling open. Justin looks over his shoulder at me amusedly. Mrs. B's disgust fades into an expression I'm unfamiliar with. When I can finally will myself to speak, I stutter, "I - I mean, Mrs. B! I'm so sorry! Oh my god, I -"

"Ely, it's alright," Mrs. B comforts. "You can call me Mom, if you'd like," she smiles softly. I cover my face with my hand, the embarrassment only getting worse. Justin wraps his arm around me, smiling proudly. I could punch him right now.

"Mom, we'll be right down. I'm gonna grab a shirt," Justin says smugly. She side eyes him suspiciously, but nods, heading downstairs. Once she's gone, he turns to me. "You called my Mom, Mom," he teases.

"Shut up, Justin," I whine.

"You love me," he sings. "You wanna be my wifey," he continues. I punch him lightly.

"It was just a slip of the tongue," I excuse, unsure if that's true. Justin grabs his shirt off of the floor, pulling it back on.

"Cmon, we don't wanna keep Mom waiting," he teases. Ugh, he'll never let me live this down.

"Keep it up, and I'll be sleeping in Jazzy's room tonight," I bluff. Justin raises an eyebrow, challenging me. He throws his body at me, so that I'm pressed between him an the doorframe. We're so close that my breath goes directly into his mouth, and vice versa.

"You sure about that, baby girl?" Justin whispers into my mouth. I swallow hard, overcome by the intensity. I shake my head no, speechless. He kisses me softly, yet passionately, only pulling away to say, "That's what I thought, Elysandra."

"I hate you," I mutter, pushing him out of my way so that I can trudge downstairs for dinner.

"I love you, too, honey!" Justin sings loudly, breezing past me down the stairs like a teenage girl in love. I roll my eyes, annoyed. He awaits me at the bottom of the staircase, throwing his arm around me smugly. I begrudgingly walk to the dinner table in his arms. Justin's mom eyes us suspiciously as we take our seats.

"Nice of you two to join us," Mrs. B welcomes. Hearing the tone of her voice, Mr. B eyes Justin mischievously, making me groan internally.

"What were you two up to?" Mr. B asks Justin, causing Justin to mirror his dad's expression. Oh, boy.

"We were talking," I blurt, the awkwardness making me uncomfortable.

Justin spears the broccoli on his plate, and before putting it in his mouth, he smiles devilishly, raising his eyebrows, echoing, "Yeah. Talking."