I sat there seething, my eyes fixed on the TV screen but my mind was racing with thoughts of Anthony and the tangled web we were weaving. I felt myself getting worked up, thinking about how he'd teased me and left me hanging, and a fire ignited within me. I wanted to get under his skin, push his buttons, and see just how far this power struggle between us could go.
So I stayed put, knowing full well that my satin pajamas hugged my curves suggestively and would no doubt capture his attention.
"MARTIN" played in the background, the familiar faces of the sitcom characters reminding me of simpler times. I thought about my family and friends, the people I hadn't heard from since Anthony entered my life and swept me off my feet.
It hurt that I'd become distanced from them, and I felt a twinge of resentment towards Anthony for taking me away from my support system. But then, there was a bigger, more daunting emotion lurking beneath the surface-the realization that I was falling for this complicated, controlling man. And it scared the hell out of me.
He had kidnapped me in September and my birthday was in September 5th. And then it was October close to Halloween and then Thanksgiving, I hadn't seen or spoken to my family yet.
That's what pissed me off, I'm going to miss my mom's cooking or my grandmother's cooking and spending time with my family.
It doesn't just feel right.
That's why I'm really angry.
And the crazy thing is I'm falling for this man. The man who kidnapped me and thinks he can control me.
Deep in my thoughts, I almost didn't notice Anthony's presence in the room. The scent of his cologne filled my nostrils, and I felt his eyes on me.
He was shirtless, his sculpted chest and arms standing out against the soft fabric of his Adidas shorts and socks. I kept my eyes glued to the TV, feeling his gaze on me, and a smirk tugged at the corners of my mouth. I knew he was curious about my distant attitude, and a part of me relished the idea of making him work for my attention.
Anthony tapped my shoulder gently, disrupting my pretend focus on the show, and asked, "You ight over there?"
I replied with feigned nonchalance, "Yeah, fine." My tone held a hint of attitude, and I saw him suppress a smile. He knew my moods by now and probably found my pouts and petulant behavior amusing. I wanted to frustrate him, but instead, I was giving him a front-row seat to the fireworks display which was my temper.
