"I want you to know how much I love you, Tom." I nibbled his ear.
"Go away, you're annoying." He pushed my face away from him, he's too busy with his laptop, arranging our marriage.
"I want to have my Bachelorette party two weeks before our day, Hon." I demanded while I find the page I am currently at.
"You can't always get what you want, Brat." He teased.
"Really, yeah?" I threw my book, grabbed his shoulders and pushed him hardly onto the sofa.
"You think you're strong enough?" He chuckled and shifted me under him.
"You have advantages. While I have this."
I kissed him torridly while he lets my tongue explore his world. I grind my hips to him so I can feel the growth. I wasn't disappointed! My right hand went to his head to deepen him more, while the other adventured below to grab him tight. But he's kissing me chastely. Ugg, so exasperating. He pulled my hand away from him and placed it to his butt cheek. He releases from the kiss and we're both panting.
"Women with their advantages. Men's weaknesses. Please, please, please behave, Lorraine. My parents are coming and I don't want them to see us at the after-fuckery." He kisses my forehead.
"The scarcity of men with unbelievable self-control is certainly villainous." I smoothen my hair and sat upright. He does his laptop again.
"An abundance of women with no self-control is unacceptable. Vulgar." He laughed.
"We're a match made in heaven, Tom." I smirked.
"Told you, you can't always get what you want." He grinned.
"Such a jerk," I hissed. I stood up and went to the kitchen to check my Caserole for later. To have my vengeance, I've let the chopping board fall and screamed.
"Ow, shit!" I supressed my laughter and pretend to be hurt. Tom jolted in a mili-second.
"What happened? Are you hurt?" He frantically observed my hands.
"No, I'm just hungry." He looked at me straight in the eyes, searching for my soul if I had any.
"You dirty, little..." He pushed me harshly to the wall and dragged my hands up with one from him. His lips met mine while his free hand touched my cheek. He let go.
"What?" I pant. He grins, releases my hands and he made our height equal by pushing me up againsts the wall while I placed my legs on his back for support.
"I love you," He whispered. I grabbed his face so our lips can meet once again. He playfully grinds his hips to tease himself and me.
"Holy mother of Christ," Tom carefully puts me down. I flushed.
"Mr. and Mrs. Stevens! You guys are an hour early," I stuttered.
"Sorry for the interruption, we will be heading to the living room and wait for dinner. Enjoy yourselves." They walked past us and to the living room.
"God, Lorraine!" Tom hissed. I giggled.
"You're so cute when you're mad." I hugged him.
"You think it's funny? It was embarrassing for goodness' sake," He's mad, but he'll get over it for the mean time.
"Well, God didn't give you a saint-like fiancée, sorry!" He removes my hands from my hug. I fold my arms and rolled my eyes.
"Can't you be just like any other girl? The one with some grace." He angrily stated.
"What! I said I was hungry then you detonated yourself to me, for your information." I picked up the chopping board and put it in the sink.
"Hungry for what?"
I shrugged.
"Tell me!" He demanded.
"Yes, for sex! Is that what you want to hear?!" Good thing the living room is far from the kitchen.
"Fuck, you're so frustrating. I'm done." He walks out.
~
"I love your pasta, Lorraine." Abigail complimented.
"Thanks, Mrs. Stevens." I picked up the wine and took a mouthful of it. Tom's still angry from earlier. He's such an adolescent at times.
"Thomas, how are you?" Peter asked.
"I'm doing great, Dad. Excited for the day." He smiles.
"Can you believe it, Peter? Our little man's all grown up."
"It seems like it was only just yesterday," He agreed with her.
"Lorraine, I'm eager to meet your parents already. I want to thank them for raising a perfect match for my son," I glanced at Tom. He was looking at me but when I met his gaze, he bowed his head.
"Uhm," I stuttered. I haven't told Tom about this.
"They are a thousand miles away," He's searching for my eyes. I can see the rage beginning to build up again.
"You've said to me they're only a Two hours drive away, Lorraine. Why didn't you tell me so we can work it out?" I didn't want to tell you because you'd probably spend grands.
"Oh, your sister called, Thomas. We have to get going. Thank you Lorraine for a wonderful dinner. Excuse us." A bad timing to leave us alone. They left us staring at each other, my fingers vined into knots. I bit my lip because his gaze is so frightening. He's giving nothing away, so I'm clearing the table and hurriedly went to the kitchen. I misplaced the wine glass to the edge, thus it fell. I shove the broken glass into the trash and it cut my finger.
"Fuck," I whispered. I sucked my finger and felt the blood. I searched for the medical kit inside drawer and huddled over some band aids. All of a sudden, the shattering sound came back again, making me squeal.
"Gosh, Tom. What are you doing?" I quickly cleaned up the mess he have made.
"I'm the one who was supposed to say that." He said. I stood up and faced him.
"Sorry, Thomas. I... I just wanted to do it on my own," I gulped. He shook in head in disappointment.
"We're going to be one in a month, Lorraine. We should do things like what partners do, you know." He calmly said.
"If I'm going to change my tampon, I'd seek help to you?" I asked. He smiled but it didn't reach his eyes.
"You get the point, Lorr. Give me the numbers of your parents so I can help them with travelling," I gave him the number to avoid complications. He called the travelling agency and my parents. He sat on the sofa beside me.
"They said yes," He sighed. I glanced at him and nodded then my eyes went back on the ANTM on T.V.
"Look, I don't hate you, okay?" He snuggled closer to me. I can't help myself so I cried for the stupidity I've done earlier.
"My crybaby," He sniffs my hair and I placed my head to his shoulder.
"I don't want to have sex with you anymore." He laughs, it made me cry again.
"Lorraine Rice? Wouldn't have sex? Impossible." He rolled his eyes.
"You know I have the 'unbelievable self-control' so I wouldn't mind not having sex for a week." He stated matter-of-factly.
"I'd spend my hunger on a different restaurant, then." I fold my arms.
"Was that a threat?"
"Don't talk to me." I shifted to the side away from him.
"1st base?" He teased. I shook my head.
"2nd base?"
"No."
"3rd base?" I didn't respond.
"Americans with their past time, till home run, then." He negotiated. I didn't reply again but this time he scooped me in his arms and brought me to our bedroom.
"I told you I'm not having sex with you." I pouted and he throws me onto the bed.
"That's rude!" I reprimanded.
"Talk about what's nice or nah, yeah?" He grinned and removes his shirt in one swift move.
"Still no."
"Playing hard to get?" He crawls towards me.
"That's what girls with grace do," I rolled my eyes.
"Indeed," He softly plants kisses on my legs. I felt a shiver ran down my spine.
"Stop, Thomas. I mean it. I feel, ugh. . . guilty." He went up right away. Disappointed, I thought he would insist.
"It's rough when I say you should."
"I get the idea." He chuckled.
"That's my girl," He kissed my forehead.
"You think I don't have grace?" I asked.
"I was carried by the moment. Sleep, love. Don't overthink things." I grimaced.
"What?" He snorted, looking confused.
"I'm the one who's overthinking things now, eh?" I asked.
"You still owe me apologies, just so you know. Sleep, Lorr. This time I'm not requesting politely."
"Blah, blah. You talk too much." I closed my eyes and forgot how to open it. Because I was too exhausted. I drifted off to unconsciousness. I see myself walking down the aisle, they are all facing to the altar. Not even aware that one of the stars of the day have arrived. I didn't mind them not complementing on how beautiful I am, or even watch me walk. This is my day, and I don't give a fuck. I am almost at the altar, I inhaled deeply and exhaled through my mouth. Tom finally turned around. He didn't smile, in fact he widened his eyes with dissatisfaction. He seems betrayed.
"HOW COULD YOU?!" He shouted. Could what? I frantically glanced at the audience. They all looked that way either. Their eyes are wide with disappoinment and judgment. I can't breathe. I feel suffocated. I feel judged with the wrong predicament. I'm now panting, it feels like I'm short for air. I stepped back involuntarily, and carefully looked down for me to not trip on my dress. Why was my dress black? It's like it was spray painted. And left a huge T unsprayed. What does T stands for? Who painted this? My day becomes a disaster second by second, I'm overwhelmed with confusion and embarrassment. I began to cry but it didn't make any effect on them. But they began shouting
"T! T! T!" . . . and even Tom joined the chorus. I dropped the boquet I was holding and turned away to the scornful crowd. I ran, not caring if I trip over because of my dress or not. I'm out of the church but I can still hear the chants. The chants are getting louder by the time I got outside. I covered my ears so I can't hear it anymore nevertheless it's digging through my hands, forcing to be heard. It's like the truth, wanting to be heard without getting blocked. I screamed my heart out but they are still insistent with the T.
"Lorr! Wake up, Lorr!" Somebody is shaking me to wake.