After following Mitchell up the grand staircase and taking a left turn, we walked down a passageway which was also bright with the white theme of the house. The walls were decorated with art and on the opposite end, there were different pictures of the family members, Mitchell, his parents, and I assumed his sister – pictures which were taken at different places and each of them at different ages.
"Don't you have a sister?" I asked Mitchell as I noticed a picture that appeared to be his sister's high school graduation.
"Unfortunately, yes." Mitchell sarcastically replied. I rolled my eyes but, having two brothers I understood sibling banter.
"I didn't see her downstairs." I mused.
"Because she's in London," Mitchell answered, "She attends The Royal Veterinary College, majoring in veterinary science – she should be home by next week."
That was impressive, studying veterinary science sometimes proved even more difficult than medicine.
"So," I began in a drawl, "If your sister got the beauty and brains in the family, what did you get?"
Mitchell didn't answer but just gave me a look telling me he didn't find my question funny.
We stopped at door and after Mitchell opened it, I followed him in. Like much of the house the room stuck to the mostly white color palette – a tray ceiling design, painted walls, French windows, and a door which led to the little balcony outside were pleasantly complemented by the warm, earthy tones of the heavily grained oak wooden floors.
The room was also beautifully decorated, a queen bed in the middle decked with many fluffy pillows and crisp white linen complemented by grey and beige throw-overs and a grey bench at the end of the bed. Two white chairs on opposite ends of a rounded coffee table sat in front of the wide window.
With the bright light invited in by the glass doors and windows as well as the contemporary look of the central pendant light, the bedroom came off as pristine, pure, and pretty. I liked it and thought that if the guest room was this elegant, I wondered what the other rooms were like.
Mitchell pointed to his right, "Bathroom is over there," He then pointed to his left, "And that is a walk-in closet. If you want to get your laundry done, leave it in the laundry basket in the bathroom and one of the staff members will take care of it."
I looked around the room once more and nodded at him in appreciation before I took a step closer to him.
"Make yourself at home and if you need anything," He paused for dramatic emphasis I supposed, "Don't ask me. Rita will help you."
I rolled my eyes; I knew he only pretended to be fed-up with me when deep down he adored every second he spent with me. He was probably moody about not being able to share a room and bed tonight.
"So, where's your room?" I teased with a wink.
Mitchell didn't seem interested, I guessed he was still pissed at me about the 'sore' remark I made downstairs.
"Unfortunately, two doors down the hall from this room." He answered.
I moaned in longing, "So near yet so far."
"Not far enough." He mumbled sourly before turning on his heel to leave.
"Aww," I cooed stepping closer to him as I twirled my hair between my fingers, "Your words ruin my panties."
Mitchell rolled his eyes and turned to walk off, I supposed he wanted some alone time in his room, but I wasn't going to let him go just like that – he messed with me in the car and I thought it was time for a little payback. Besides, it was satisfying to watch him squirm in awkwardness.
I caught up to him and just as he opened the door, I pushed it shut. Mitchell froze for a moment before he slowly turned around to face me.
He gave me a bored look, "What are you doing?"
I took closer steps until I cornered him between the door and me, I leaned in a little closer to him, and with my eyes on him, I reached for the lock on the door and turned it – locking us in.
Mitchell's eyebrows raised an inch when he watched me lock the door and then he looked down at me. I looked into his eyes and then slowly averted them to my chest.
"How about that physical examination?" I purred.
Mitchell took in a breath and exhaled before he looked down at me, his eyes showed a slight amount of amusement but with his PMS, I couldn't be one-hundred percent sure which mood he was in.
"Are we playing this game again?" He asked.
"I wasn't aware we ever stopped." I replied innocently.
"Besides," I reached for his neck and slowly trailed a finger from his sweet spot, down to his chest, "Your parents gave us an hour, I think we should use it wisely. Don't you agree?"
"Define wisely." He simply stated.
Instead of words, I let my actions speak. Slowly, I moved closer, until my chest touched his and as I moved, Mitchell's eyes were fixed firmly on me. I lifted my arms and wrapped them around the back of his neck, as my one leg made its way between his. We were standing so close that my body temperature increased because it was mixed with his.
I stood on my tippy toes, so my mouth had access to his neck, I could feel the steady rhythm of his breathing as my chest sat firmly against his. His breathing caressed the side of my face when I parted my lips and in a torturously slow pace, I moved my lips to his ear. I purposely brushed my lips in a feather-like motion against his earlobe before I lightly fanned my breath in his ear.
"Mitchell," I whispered, "I think it would be wise if you get rid of all these clothes and," I paused and breathed again, "...and take a cold shower."
I grinned and pulled away immediately, putting distance between us. Mitchell blinked and I think he just registered what I said. My triumphant grin widened looking at him getting flustered by a little body contact.
"Seriously, other than the fact your excitement needs to die down," I quickly glanced at his crotch before I met his gaze again and continued, "You look like crap and smell like liquid ass."
Okay, so I was teasing him about the last part because it was no lie that despite being an ass, Mitchell always smelt great. But he deserved the insult after the way he disrespected my lovely eye-makeup this morning.
Pleased with messing with him once again, I was ready to walk off and let Mitchell be but it seemed he wasn't done with our game, because just before I could turn around, he stopped me by linking his thumb and pointer finger with both hands, through my belt loop on my jeans.
Without having time to process his actions, he yanked me forwards, resulting in me crashing against his chest.
I could feel his gaze burning into me, so I slowly lifted my lids and met his intense ones. My eyes lowered to his neck where his Adam's apple sat when he gulped. His hands simultaneously left my belt loops and, very slowly moved upwards to the waistband – his fingertips lightly brushing over my belly that my crop top couldn't cover.
I could hear myself breathing when his hands made its way round to the back of my waistband, where he left it to sit.
"What was it that you were saying downstairs?" He spoke in an almost whisper.
I wasn't too sure if it was the fact that almost my entire body was stuck to his, or if it was the movement of his fingertips, drawing circular patterns on my lower back as he stared down at me that caused my smart mouth to malfunction.
I blinked and got control of my thoughts once more when I said, "I said many things – you're going to have to be more specific."
His eyes looked more grey than blue when it appeared to darken a shade while his hands stilled for a split second and then with a small gasp, I felt both his hands snake its way up my top.
He lowered his neck so that his lips were at my ears and he spoke in a whisper while in agonizingly slow motion, his warm hands slid its way upwards, "You said," He paused and exhaled softly and I felt a shiver run up my spine, my breathing picking up a little, "That I could never get laid by a girl like you."
My body was reacting to his touch and even though my mind was almost fully consumed by his warm, slightly rough hands on my skin, I still had some control over it.
"Oh yeah," I whispered, "Was I wrong?"
A spark of mischief flashed in his eyes when the corner of his lip lifted a fraction and a small smirk formed. His eyes dropped to my slightly parted lips and then moved up to my eyes again, his hands reached the back of my bra.
I was perplexed and taken completely off guard when I felt him slip one finger underneath the thin, lace fabric of the back of my bra. I had no idea what his intention was but at that moment I was at a loss for words.
"Absolutely wrong." He said softly, his breath fanning over my face.
I swallowed, feeling lost in the feel of his hands on my skin and the intensity of his gaze, I had no idea why but I was losing control of the situation, I was literally in Mitchell's hands and he was the dominating factor.
"I can get laid by a girl like you...multiple times." He added.
I thought that was as far Mitchell would go but I was left utterly speechless when I felt both his hands reach for my bra hook and with his eyes firmly fixed on mine, he effortlessly undid it.
I could feel the constriction from the bra loosen immediately, revealing more of my back to his hands. He placed his one hand flat against my back as he pulled me even closer to him.
He ran his tongue over his bottom lip and with his eyes boring into my wide ones, he whispered, "Thirty-two B."
His eyes dropped to my boobs and I watched as a smug smirk coated his features before he looked back up at me. I was amused, flabbergasted, and a little flustered to say the least but I still managed a grin because he was spot on, that was indeed my bra size.
He slowly slid his hand back down and my back suddenly felt chilled without his touch, he let me go and he ran a quick hand through his hair while he placed the other in his pocket.
He surely got me there for a moment and I couldn't deny that Mitchell most likely knew his way around a woman's body, he knew where to touch and how to speak to get her riled up. Even though my uneven breathing proved that I was a little turned on at that moment, I refused to let him have the final say.
Taking the fact that his hand was in his pocket, I glanced down then up to him. "That's right, keep your boy down there in place until you reach the privacy of your room."
He gave me a look and in response, I gave him an innocent look, "What? Don't be shy, we both know what you're going to do in there. I mean one whole week of sexual tension... you have to off your load at some point."
He titled his head and looked at me with a small grin, "Why would I need to use my hand when you're just down the hall?"
My jaw dropped and I was proud of him, Broody Bitchell sure had come a very long way in just a week.
I fluttered my eyes at him, "I'll be waiting."
Mitchell shook his head and unlocked the door behind him, I moved out of the way to give him more room to walk.
"Dinner in an hour, don't be late." He said with his back to me before he left.
Around, eight-thirty I was freshened up and ready to go down for dinner. I ran my hands through my hair once more as I exited the room. I shut the door behind me and bumped into Mitchell who was heading my way.
I winked and blew him a kiss while he just rolled his eyes and together, we made our way downstairs.
"No dirty talk." He warned me as soon as we reached the ground floor.
"Alright," I sighed in feigned disappointment, "But only if there'll be some dirty action in your bedroom tonight."
"Mila." He sternly stated.
"Such a prude." I mumbled under my breath.
"And," He added, "Don't mention Owen getting married. It's not our place to break news like that – Owen and Faith should handle that on their own."
I agreed with him and it wasn't like I was going to mention it anyway, he should know by now that I wasn't one for gossip or prying – that was him.
We entered the dining room and much like the rest of the house it was elegant, posh, and classy yet with a warm, homely feel to it. Mitchell's parents were already there and engrossed in their conversation but stopped when they noticed us enter.
Mitchell's mom smiled when her gaze caught ours, "Ready to eat?"
"Yeah," Mitchell said, "I am starved and missed your cooking."
"Makes one of us." I heard Mitchell's dad mumbled which earned him a nasty glare from his wife.
Everyone took a seat at the grand dining room table which possibly sat a dozen people, although only four seats were occupied. Mason sat at the head of the table, Carly beside him and I think to make me feel a little comfortable – and possibly to keep my behavior in check, Mitchell sat next to me.
A man and a woman dressed in black and white uniform entered the room with platters and casserole dishes in their hands, there was so much of food that I wondered if more people were joining for dinner.
"You outdid yourself, Doc," Mason said eyeing the many dishes on the table, "If this is always on the menu when Mitch is home, I'd get him transferred to a school nearby."
"Rita and I agreed to make some of Mitch's favorite dishes," Carly beamed at her son sitting opposite her and it was evident that Mitchell was her favorite, "He's home after such a long time, it's the least we could do."
"You know he's the favorite when Carly takes a day off work to slog in the kitchen," Mitch's dad commented, "I don't even get that on my birthday or our anniversary."
Carly raised a brow, "Is that so?"
Mason sheepishly grinned at her, "Kidding."
I looked at the many non-vegetarian meals on the table, grilled chicken, roasted lamb with vegetables, and something that looked like a cheesy casserole and it made me realize that I didn't inform them I didn't eat any of that stuff.
I figured I'd take some of the vegetables from the roasted lamb, but I knew it wouldn't go down well because it would have the lamb flavor.
Everyone began serving food and I sat awkwardly, I wanted to say something, but I didn't want to sound like a diva – I mean I just met these people.
"Rick," Carly said, and the middle-aged man looked up, "I almost forgot, is the spinach and ricotta cannelloni out of the oven? Also, check on the peppered and cheese mushroom-steaks."
The man named Ricky nodded and walked off.
"I'm sorry Mila," Carly apologized, "Mitchell mentioned you were vegetarian, I prepared something while you were upstairs. It slipped my mind it was still in the oven."
I glanced at Mitchell gratefully, I wasn't keen on going to bed on an empty stomach. I was thinking of ordering a takeout before bed, but I had no idea who the security at the front let in the house and at which hours.
Ricky was back in a short amount of time with the delicious-looking food. Soon the food was on my plate and we were all eating in silence. I had no idea what Mitchell's dad was talking about, Carly was an exceptional cook, and eating homemade food after a week was refreshing.
"So, have you always been a vegetarian?" Mason broke the silence by asking me.
I was about to answer but smug-ass Bitchell did for me.
"No, only ever since she found out chicken was actually a chicken." He answered and when I turned to glare at him, he was grinning at me like an idiot.
"Cute." Mitchell's mom commented.
I shrugged, "Yeah I mean I feel bad to eat any kind of animal, be it, chickens, hens, roosters," I glanced at Mitchell with a tiny smirk before I continued, "cocks – you name it, if it bleeds red, I won't eat it."
I popped a forkful of cannelloni in my mouth as I innocently gazed at Mitchell, who was gone red in the face and doing his best not to choke on his food. Carly played ignorant and Mitchell's dad covered his amused grin by taking a sip of wine.
Mitchell grabbed the glass of water which sat next to the red wine on the table and took a large gulp. When he was done, he sent me a warning glare, but I didn't care. It was his fault I said that; he triggered me by making fun of my chicken story.
"Well," Carly broke mine, and Mitchell's stare off, "I think it's great. I remember when I just completed med-school, the mere sight of meat made me feel sick."
"Oh yeah, there's that too," I agreed with her, "Makes me think of that awful formalin smell."
"You're at Harvard Med School?" Mason asked.
I nodded, "Yeah, entering my third-year next semester."
"The year of clinical rotations," Carly mused, "You better start treasuring your sleep now because it's going to be a luxury once you start your rounds."
I glanced at the enemy of my sleep before I said, "Oh, I know, I plan to sleep twelve hours a day once I'm back home. It's needed considering Mitchell never allowed me to sleep much this week."
Once again, as soon as the words were out my lips, I realized how bad that sounded, I bit my tongue and suppressed my laughter when Mitchell's face went redder this time.
"Hmm." Mason remarked with a small smirk as he sipped on his wine.
Mitchell swallowed down his food and after clearing his throat he began to clarify, "What Mila meant is, I'm an early riser and like to hit the road early but Mila likes to sleep in, so she always got annoyed when I woke her when the clock read AM instead of PM."
"Of course." Mason tight-lipped grinned at his son in response.
"Anyway," Carly came to her son's rescue, "Your parents must be so proud of all your achievements Mila. Harvard was my dream school so when I got accepted, my parents were ready to throw a party."
I avoided the topic of my parents because I didn't want to tell Mitchell's parents that I was a result of a one-night stand so instead I averted the subject, "You went to Harvard?"
"No," Mason answered for her, "She went to The University of Cambridge in England, I attended Harvard."
Carly sheepishly smiled, "Yeah, plans changed but everything happens for the best."
"Oh, don't be coy Carly," Mason snickered before he turned his attention to me, "She fled the country because she fell in love with me, and out of fear of rejection she ran away."
Carly rolled her eyes, "Are we going with that story Mas?"
Mason cleared his throat, "Enough about us and tell me, how did you two meet?"
That was a tricky question, one that Mitchell and I were never directly asked. Mitchell shifted uncomfortably in his chair and I bit on my lip, thinking of which answer to go with. I would've easily said we met at the restaurant with Owen and Faith, but Mitchell hated lies, not that I cared, but I wanted to get on his nerves and make him eat his own words.
"Well," I began in a drawl, "It certainly was interesting."
"Owen is in a relationship with her best friend and roommate Faith, so..." Mitchell very smartly and vaguely answered.
"Well," Mason said with a grin towards Mitchell, "Brunette with beauty and brains and a future doctor, I must say the apple doesn't fall far from the tree."
I was starting to get the impression that Mitchell's dad was trying to set Mitchell and me up, he kept insinuating that we were together, and I didn't help the matter when I implied that we slept together twice.
"Dad," Mitchell started coolly but I could tell that anger-issue Bitchell was on the surface, "We are just friends."
I agreed with him. "Yeah, your son is... well he is special, but I have standards."
Mason choked on a laugh and found my joke amusing while Carly didn't seem too impressed, I didn't blame her, I was sort of insulting her son. I was guessing that Mason was the one with a bigger sense of humor.
"Besides," I changed the subject, "I don't want to practice medicine, I want to go into the medical research field."
"Wow," Carly sounded impressed and that told me she wasn't pissed I said her son didn't match up to my standards, "That is really impressive, Mila."
"Thanks," I replied, "I just feel that there are so many diseases and so little knowledge let alone treatments and cures out there, I want to know more about them and find solutions to help treat people who are suffering everyday terminally. Not only that, I want to start NGOs to raise funds for illnesses that are looked down upon and tainted with stigmas."
I guessed I got carried away and it was most likely because it was the first time that I spoke my aspiration out loud. If there was anything, I was passionate about, it was that.
"Well, I am impressed," Mason said with a smile, "It is rare to find driven young folk. When you are ready to start your NGO, do visit me, I will gladly write you a cheque."
I smiled at him gratefully, "Thank you."
"I'll say this again, your family must be real proud." Carly commented.
My smile faded, if only she knew how different my family dynamic was to theirs, I didn't want to wear my heart on my sleeve, so I just nodded with a half-grin.
I turned to my side to see Mitchell gazing at me with a weird look in his eyes, for once he wasn't angry or annoyed but looked... almost normal. I gave him a questioning look, but he just shook his head and went back to eating.
Normal, light-hearted chatter went around the table while everyone ate and it felt nice, it was the first time that I was witnessing a family just have dinner and talk. Mitchell's parents were nothing that I assumed of them, they were very warm, kind, and humble. They were also very young at heart and by the way they spoke and subtly teased each other, I could tell they were crazy about one another. Mason looked at his wife with nothing but admiration and she returned the same for him – it was no wonder Mitchell felt so strongly about the 'L' word; he was made, born, and raised around it.
Looking at Mitchell smile and laugh with his parents stirred that nasty green emotion called envy in the pit of my stomach, his life looked so perfect – he was short of nothing. The big house they lived in was a warm home because of the affection the people felt for each other; something that I never experienced growing up.
"Oh, that was the most annoying laugh ever." Mason complained while Carly laughed, and Mitchell dipped his head in shame.
I blinked away my reverie and was brought back to the present when I asked, "What laughter?"
"No!" Mitchell exclaimed, "Do not tell her, she will never let me live it down."
"Oh, now I have to know." I insisted.
"Oh, come on honey, it was cute." Carly said.
"Yeah Bit-" I cleared my throat and quickly corrected myself, "Mitch, I'm sure it was adorable."
"Oh, what the hell," Mason placed his fork on his plate, "I'll tell you."
"Dad." Mitchell groaned.
Mason ignored Mitchell and went on to tell me, "So when Mitchell was little, he was like a caveman and hated wearing clothes – I mean I think we fought all the time when I had to get him dressed."
"Dad, no." Mitchell was already blushing which made me giggle.
"He and his sister loved watching SpongeBob SquarePants after bath time, he was maybe three years old at the time, and other than mimicking SpongeBob's notorious laugh he would run around naked mumbling whatever words he caught of the theme song but one line always got him."
"No!" Mitchell exclaimed but he was also hiding his laughter when he reached over and in a very childlike manner, blocked my ears with his hands.
I was already in a fit of laughter imagining a naked Mitchell, running around the room trying to sing along to the SpongeBob song. I tried peeling Mitchell's hands off my ears, but his hold was too strong.
"I wanna hear the rest Mitch." I insisted, between laughter.
"No way, you will taunt me for the rest of your life." He retorted in a muffled voice.
"I'm going to do that regardless." I told him.
Mitchell refused to let go so he left me no choice but to reach for his thigh under the table, I casually placed my hand on his thigh and he gave me a warning look, shaking his head.
I purposely defied him and instead of saying anything inappropriate I was ready to do something which would awake his joystick in a matter of minutes and that too, right in the presence of his parents.
"Let," I told him as my hand slid up until I could feel the covering of where his zipper sat, "Go."
Mitchell should've known better than to think I was bluffing because he still refused so to show him how serious I was, I pressed down, applying a little pressure while simultaneously grinning at him.
Mitchell didn't budge so I applied even more pressure and within seconds his hands were removed and he shifted in his seat, I watched him reach for his wine and sip it, all while icily glaring at me. I guess I got Clarke Junior excited quicker than I expected, and I didn't even touch anything, or at least I didn't feel anything other than the fabric of his pants.
"So, you were saying Mr. Clarke?" I turned to Mason who died down from his laughter.
"Mason," Carly said, and she looked at her son who wasn't happy about sharing this story, "Spare him."
"Oh, come on, you can't leave a story that interesting midway." I insisted.
"Just tell her," Mitchell sulkily mumbled as he crossed his legs, "She will bug me until I tell her, so might as well get on with it."
"Alright," It didn't take Mason a second to carry on, "The only words he knew was 'eye-eye captain' and 'SpongeBob SquarePants', so he would run around in the nude mumbling the other lyrics and then he would scream at the top of his lungs, eye-eye craptain," Mason paused and laughed, "He thought the word was craptain instead of captain."
"Yeah and then whenever he would make a number two, we would call him Captain Craptain." Carly added.
"Oh, come on!" Mitchell exclaimed and I couldn't contain my laugher.
"You were three Mitch, it's adorable." Carly consoled him.
"Yeah crapt- I mean Mitch." I innocently battered my lashes at him.
"No, it is humiliating." Mitchell bitterly muttered.
I took a sip of water and thought I'd add to his annoyance only because I could.
"So, who watched the classic movie, Grease?" I asked Mitchell's parents.
Mitchell scowled at me with so much hatred that if looks could kill, I'd pretty much be dead.
"Kill me now." I heard Mitchell mutter from beside me as the conversation progressed.
**
By the time the night came to an end, I concluded that Mitchell's parents were the complete opposite of him – they were simply great, especially his dad.
Mitchell's parents' room was on the east wing of the upper level of the house while Mitchell's and the guest room was on the right, so after meeting in the middle of the staircase to say goodnight, we went our separate ways. Carly once again hugged me and said she hoped to see me visit again and said goodbye as she would be at the hospital by the time I left the next morning.
Mitchell and I walked side by side in silence to our respective rooms and I couldn't help but grin when I noticed how sulky he still was.
We stopped outside the guestroom door and Mitchell placed a hand in his pocket, wearing a nonchalant look on his face.
"Well, if you need anything, remember not to call me." He said.
I looked up at his grumpy face and I guessed it was from the fact that I told his parents he sang karaoke with me, I didn't know what the big deal was because his parents were thrilled, in fact, his dad was ready to head into an entertainment area the house had and turn on the karaoke machine.
I didn't respond with words but instead reached for his face and poked his cheek, where his dimple sat. That irritated him even more because he frowned and slapped my hand away as one would to a fly.
If he were going to treat me like a fly, I would pester him like one too, so I repeated the action.
"Come on, show me those panty-dropping worthy dimples." I teased.
"Mila!" He snapped grabbing my hand in his.
"It's so sexy when you scream my name." I teased but he wasn't in the mood to play.
He dropped my hand and stated, "Goodnight."
"Thanks for a great dinner," I stopped him before he could walk off, "I actually had a really good time."
"Of course, you did," He sarcastically replied, "It was pick on Mitchell night."
If I had to reach down into the deepest, darkest depths of my heart, I would feel a little sorry for Mitchell because I did laugh at him most of the night. He tried to make his family laugh by telling them how I got a song lyric wrong, but it backfired when they found it cute instead of embarrassing.
"Cheer up, it was all in good fun Captain Craptain." I teased and with a glare, he turned on his heel to walk off, but I grabbed his hand.
"Mila, I'm tired." He exasperatedly said with his back to me.
It was like dealing with a sulky child and I had to bribe him with candy. I walked around to face him, and he was still as sullen as before, I pitied the woman he would marry one day – she would have to deal with all his moods.
"This trip has given me many experiences and today you gave me an experience of a real family dinner and it felt... nice." I seriously told him.
His sullen expression dropped, and his shoulders didn't look so tense anymore, he exhaled, and his gaze softened. I was seeing the compassionate side of Mitchell and it beat the mopey one by far.
"You're welcome." He half grinned.
"You're a lucky guy Mitchell, you have a perfect life," I told him, "I'm a little envious of you."
Mitchell opened his mouth to most likely say something to make me feel a little better, but I knew no matter what said wouldn't work because he didn't have the full story of my life.
"Oh, save it, your life is great but I'm still ,smarter, wittier, and most importantly hotter than you so... I think I win." I teased.
Mitchell leaned into me and looked down into my eyes with a mischievous grin, "Debatable. I'd have to see you naked to make that conclusion."
"Well," I began, "Since my bra is already off thanks to you, why don't you come in and finish the job?"
Mitchell's playful demeanor immediately dropped, and his eyes dipped to my boobs before he looked up at me again, "You sat at the dining table with my parents without a bra?"
Mitchell truly was a prude and quite stupid at times, I wasn't stupid to sit bra-less with a top that was white in front of anyone, let alone his parents.
"Never mind, I can't see your nipples." He said before I could answer his question.
"Um, what?" I choked, "You were looking for them?"
I wanted to laugh when Mitchell looked uncomfortable, I didn't think he realized what he just said.
"N-no, but your shirt is white so they wouldn't be missed." He muttered.
"Anyway," He added, "Goodnight, and remember if you-"
"Yeah, yeah I won't call you." I cut him off.
He grinned at me and with a small apprehensive nod, he walked off. I turned around and looked at him slowly stride to his bedroom.
"My bed will miss you Bitchell." I called after him with a dramatic sigh.
"Goodnight Mila." He said and with a smile on my lips, I walked into the guest bedroom.
After my night regime, I was in bed with the lights out. When I checked the clock on the wall it was almost midnight. So before going to sleep I decided to book a flight back to New York for the next evening.
The flight was booked, and I felt a little bittersweet, home was always my safe place but as much as I hated to admit, it wasn't my happy place for a long time. If I had to be honest with myself, the happiest I felt was during this one week and I was a little sad that it was ending.
I turned and lay on my back and looked at the ceiling, the room was quiet and felt empty despite the many items present. The area Mitchell lived in was so peaceful and tranquil that I couldn't even hear a car drive by, it was different as opposed to the apartment I lived at in Queens and Boston.
I knew the next day I had to talk to Mason's lawyer, and it seemed no one wanted to bring it up to dampen my spirits, but I knew it was coming and I dreaded it. The more I pushed it to the back of my mind, the more it bothered me.
Thinking of it at that moment, made me realize that for the first time since the incident I was alone in the dark and that thought frightened me a fraction, I was used to having Mitchell by my side that suddenly the bed felt cold and empty.
I shook my head and told myself that I shouldn't be feeling that way, it meant I was being dependant on him and that was something that I swore to never do. I couldn't allow one incident to put to waste the walls and strength I built in myself for as long as I could remember.
I took in a deep breath and decided to clear my mind and sleep as the next day would be another long one, not only because of meeting with the lawyer but because I was going to be home and that was never as simple as it was for everyone else.
I turned to my side and glanced at my phone laying beside me, I wondered if Mitchell was still awake. I doubted it but I thought I'd check-in and get my mind off all its baseless thinking.
I searched for his name and began typing a text to him.
Mila: This bed is cold without you in it...
I hit send and dropped my phone, he was pretty tired so I figured he wouldn't even see the text. But I was wrong because within a minute or two my phone vibrated, and I got a text from Mitchell.
Bitchell: Turn on the heater.
I rolled my eyes at his dry reply, so I thought I'd mess with him a little as I typed the next text.
Mila: Won't work. Only you know how to turn on the heat in my bed ;)
Bitchell: Vibrator not working for you tonight, eh?
Mila: Just like leftie isn't for you.
Bitchell: It was until your picture popped up with your text.
I rolled my eyes at his rude comeback, I knew if he was drunk, he'd play along but I wasn't as stuck-up as him, I thought I'd annoy him even more.
Mila: Why? Suddenly you want my hand down there?
I watched as the three dots danced for a long moment while he typed a response.
Bitchell: More like your mouth.
My eyes widened at his bold text, I had to read over it twice before, with a grin on my face, I typed a reply.
Mila: Careful Mitchy, you're sailing on dangerous waters.
Bitchell: I can handle it. Real question is, how much stamina do you have to ride this high tide?
I was gobsmacked, Mitchell must've been half asleep or in the middle of watching porn to be texting so... dirty.
Mila: Tonight, you're the captain...
Bitchell: And I have a first-class seat reserved for you on my lap.
I was having way too much fun texting him, the smile didn't leave my face as we exchanged more dirty texts. I knew if anyone had to see them, they'd think we were flirting but, it was just a Mitchell and Mila thing, and I was certain that just like me Mitchell was smiling.
Mila: Destination pleasure?
Bitchell: When you can't feel your legs tomorrow, you'll have your answer.
I had to remind myself that Mitchell was sober and was being very daring and bold via text, looking at that last one I was at a loss for words. It was as if he was hiding his freaky side or his ego refused to let me have the last say.
Mila: That can only happen if the taste lingering in your mouth tomorrow is Mila.
Bitchell: Keep this going and like Julius Caesar, I'll be over there to divide and conquer.
That last message did it for me, I couldn't stop the laughter. I had to give this round to Mitchell, my sleepy mind could never think of a smarter retort than that. With a smile on my face, I put my phone away and allowed sleep to take over.
**
"What about Sadie?" I asked Mitchell later the next afternoon while we stood in the driveway and one of his staff members brought out a different car for him.
It was a little after one-pm the next day and after breakfast at the poolside with Mitchell, his dad called and told him that his lawyer was waiting for us at his office. So, figuring that Mitchell could drop me off at the airport straight after I met with the lawyer, I grabbed my suitcase and bid farewell to the Clarke Mansion.
Mitchell requested the staff to bring out his car and I was expecting one last ride with Sadie but instead, I was standing across a smaller, sports car – a blue Jaguar F-Type.
"The car has driven over a thousand miles, it needs a good service," Mitchell answered as he opened the trunk of the car to place my luggage in, "So, quit whining and get in."
I got in the car and even though it was luxurious, I missed the G-Wagon, it had more space as opposed to the two-seater sports car.
Mitchell put on his seatbelt and instructed I do the same. After adjusting his seat and rear-view mirror, he started the car and the engine literally roared to life, it was so loud that a gasp escaped from my lips.
Mitchell wore a satisfied grin while he pressed on the accelerator once more, "Hmm, I missed my V8, five-liter supercharged baby's roar."
I looked at him peculiarly, I was starting to think that Mitchell's passion for cars was borderline creepy and crazy, the look on his face made me wonder if he was actually attracted to his cars.
"My heart is breaking for the infidelity towards Sadie right now." I told him.
Mitchell ignored my remark and instead shifted the car gear into drive before we exited the driveway.
Once on the highway, Mitchell glanced at me, "I hope you don't mind a fast ride?"
I replayed that innocent sentence in the back of my mind and about a dozen dirty comebacks came to mind, but I reserved them, I thought that I overdid it with the texting the previous night.
"After last night's dawdling? Sure." I mumbled and flashed him a tight-lipped smile.
The engine roared as Mitchell sped past a few cars and even though I wasn't used to the speed, something was thrilling about it.
"You're the one who fell off to sleep and left me on read and I get the criticism." Mitchell commented and shook his head.
Los Angeles traffic was no joke because even though according to the GPS, Mitchell's father's office wasn't far, it still took us almost an hour to reach. It was around two-pm when Mitchell parked his car in the underground parking lot of the tall Clarke Group of Companies skyscraper, and we were on our way up to Mason's office.
While in the elevator I looked around and spotted a little camera on the side corner which triggered an idea to mess with Mitchell. I stepped closer to him and he looked at me with a frown. I turned to stand in front of him and took him off guard by pushing him against the wall.
I pressed myself against him, placing both my hands on his chest and then allowing one to slowly trail south to the waistband of his trousers.
"Mila." Mitchell warned.
My fingers reached his belt and while trailing a slow line from the side to the buckle I said, "Something about an elevator that increases sexual tension, don't you think?"
"And," I added as my fingertips touched the cool surface of the metal buckle, "After last night's steamy text session, I'm even more riled up."
Mitchell looked down at me and reached for my hand that was on his belt buckle, he grasped it and gently pushed it aside.
I watched as his eyes searched all four corners of the elevator before it stopped on one corner and I was amused when I watched him pale a little.
His eyes met mine once more, "This is my father's office and there is a camera in here, so please behave yourself." He scolded.
I pouted and dusted the non-existent dust off his shirt, pressing myself more into him, "But I want you, now."
I bit onto my bottom lips to stop myself from laughing when he took in a breath and gulped, I could see the turmoil going on in his eyes. He was a guy after all and after a week of teasing, touching and now my body pressed firmly against his, he was bound to be a little turned on.
"Mila-" He began but I cut him off by inching my face closer to his, bringing my lips in line with his.
"Mitchell." I whispered, making sure my breath fanned over his lips.
He was looking in my eyes and then his gaze slowly dropped to my lips and I could feel the rhythm of his chest pick up as his breathing increased a notch.
I was looking back and forth from his eyes to his lips and for a moment I was lost in the game I started. My mind was blank and all I could feel was the warmth of his body on mine, see his intense gaze, and hear our slightly ragged breaths mixing from our parted lips.
Mitchell ran a tongue over his lips and inched his face closer to mine, so close that his breath kissed my lips and just as our lips were about to do that a loud ding broke the moment.
I blinked and immediately pulled away, Mitchell pulled his head back and exhaled audibly. His eyes were still on me until it averted to someone behind us and he gently pushed me aside.
"L-Laura." Mitchell stuttered.
I turned around to see a woman dressed smartly in a skirt suit, her dark hair tied neatly in a bun and her spectacles hiding her scrutinizing eyes. Her nonchalant demeanor seemed to change, and her thin lips curved into a small smile.
"Mitchell?" She asked.
Mitchell cleared his throat and stepped out of the elevator, I followed behind him, trying my best not to laugh at how red Mitchell's ears were.
"Yeah," Mitchell grinned at her, "Good to see you again, Laura."
"You too." She smiled and her eyes moved towards where I casually stood looking at the sophisticated reception area.
"Mr. Clarke mentioned you were to stop by, but I didn't know you were bringing a special lady with you." She grinned at him.
Mitchell cleared his throat once more and placed his hand in his pocket before he said, "Oh, this is my friend Mila and we are here to meet with my dad's lawyer."
"Yes, Mr. Pollard is in your father's office right now, I was just running down to the printing room." Laura very professionally said before she added, "You can go in."
"Nice to meet you, Mila." Laura politely said before he stepped into the elevator.
Once the door was closed Mitchell turned to glare at me, "You've already embarrassed me in front of my father's secretary, please do not do so in front of his lawyer."
I had no intention to do that because I knew that speaking to his lawyer wasn't going to be a breeze, standing there knowing I was minutes away from talking about that awful night made the anxiety I was pushing back all day surface once more.
We made our way to Mason's office, and as soon as we entered the exquisite, vast office with an amazing view of the city via the large window we were greeted by Mason and his lawyer.
The lawyer who was introduced as Mr. Gary Pollard was older than Mason by a good few years and despite appearing intimidating at first glance, he was warm when he spoke.
"I've worked for the Clarke's since Mason was in college, so rest assured Ms. Bandera, I will handle this with the utmost confidentiality and efficiency. I just need you to tell me exactly what happened." Mr. Pollard said to me.
"I'll give you some privacy to speak." Mason who was dressed in a formal suit and looked very much like the CEO of a large company he was, said.
"Mitch." He gestured for Mitchell to follow him out.
Mitchell who was standing next to me was about to follow his father out, but I grabbed his hand and held onto it tightly. Mitchell stilled and I could feel his gaze on me. I was always brave and handled things on my own but for some reason, I felt more secure with Mitchell beside me.
"If it's alright, can Mitchell stay with me?" I asked Mr. Pollard.
He nodded, "Sure, whatever makes you comfortable Ms. Bandera."
I turned to ask Mitchell if it was okay with my eyes and in response, he placed his other hand over mind which held his and gave me an assuring nod.
It took just under an hour until I was done answering questions about that night and I wasn't sure how I felt afterward but I knew I took it better than I expected. I didn't break down or stutter or allow any emotion to show, although when I had to describe how that man touched me and tore my clothes I paused, and my mind froze due to anxiety. However, Mitchell placed his hand over mine and gave it a small squeeze to remind me that he was there and that I was safe – that action of his as well as his presence gave me the strength to speak up.
Once Mr. Pollard left assuring me that the person who did this to me would get the fitting punishment, I was left with Mitchell and Mason in the office.
"Thank you, Mr. Clarke," I said to Mason with gratification, "For doing this for me, I can't tell you how much I appreciate it all."
"Don't mention it," Mason warmly grinned at me, "You mean something to my son, so you're something to my family."
"Dad." Mitchell whined from beside me, "For the hundredth time, she is my friend."
"So," Mason said, "Friends mean something too."
Mitchell couldn't argue with that, so he kept his mouth shut.
"Well, I have a flight to catch," I said before adding to Mason, "Thank you again for everything."
Mason smiled at me and walked around his desk towards where I stood, "Have a safe flight, Mila and I hope we will see you again."
'Doubt it.'
I didn't say that but just smiled at him and after shaking his hand, Mitchell and I left the office.
The car ride to LAX airport was quiet, for some reason I was feeling a little down. I knew it partially had to do with the fact that I spoke of that awful night but a part of me knew it was also because the trip that I initially dreaded to go on was officially over. Mitchell drove in silence too and I guess like me, he was also lost in thoughts.
As I looked out the window at the bypassing cars, my mind played back the last week in a quick sequence. It was filled with so many things, I didn't know one week could alter my perceptions about Mitchell and certain things about life so much.
A week ago, I was dreading to go on a weeklong trip with Mitchell – whom I considered my enemy. But one week later, here I was feeling low for leaving. I had the most fun in this one week that I didn't want it to end and getting a taste of Mitchell's wonderful family heightened that feeling.
A small smile tugged on my lips as I reminisced about the many arguments, fights, jokes, and even flirting that went down between Mitchell and me, it was surely something I would always remember. The different places we visited with the different activities we partook in was something that would be planted in my mind forever.
With the car, my thoughts came to a halt when we reached the airport. Mitchell helped me take out my luggage and when I allowed him to do so, I recalled how I insisted on carrying my bag from my apartment in Boston just when we left – so much had changed in a week.
We walked in silence through the busy airport to the domestic departure section. When we reached, Mitchell and I stopped walking and faced each other.
I took in a breath and I hated to admit it, but I was feeling a tad bit emotional to say goodbye to him. He stood opposite me with no expression on his face, but I had a feeling he felt the same way.
"You got everything?" Mitchell broke the silence between us.
I nodded, "Yeah."
"Alright," He said softly before he added, "Well, have a good flight and text me when you get home safe."
I genuinely smiled at his sincere words, I never thought I'd see the day Bitchell care about me but here we were, and I was touched.
Silence lingered between us for a long moment before I reached for something in my pants pocket. I pulled out a clean, white tissue and offered it to Mitchell.
Mitchell frowned for a second until he understood what I meant; the corner of his lips curved when realization dawned down on him.
"To wipe your tears away once I'm gone." I told him with a growing grin.
Mitchell's fingers brushed against mine when he took the tissue from me. He looked at it for a moment before he placed it in his pocket.
"Tears of joy." He said, his smile not waning.
"Sure." I drawled.
He gazed at me softly and I did the same for a moment before both our feet simultaneously moved towards each other and when we stopped walking, Mitchell looked down at me with his smile fading. He took in a breath before he reached for me and grabbed me in a tight hug.
Under normal circumstances, I would push anyone who got in my space away but at that moment, I liked the feeling of his large arms around me. So, I lifted mine and hugged him back, standing on my tiptoes, I placed my chin on his shoulder.
His arms tightened around me and I instinctively did the same, taking in his unique cologne scent one last time. I never thought I'd admit it, but I think a tiny part of me was going to miss him.
After a long while Mitchell and I broke apart, he smiled at me and flicked my nose before saying, "It's going to be quiet – peaceful, but quiet without you around, Milo."
I chuckled at that. "Don't worry, we'll sext and have tons of phone sex."
Mitchell rolled his eyes but laughed, nevertheless.
"I'll see you next semester Clarke." I said to him when the final call for my flight was announced.
Mitchell dramatically groaned, "Don't remind me. Let me enjoy a summer of peace."
"Yeah, yeah." I rolled my eyes at him, "Keep lying to yourself."
Silence remained between us and I knew that was it, it was time to go even though I didn't really want to.
"See you, Bitchell." I lightly bumped his shoulder with my first.
"You too, Milo." And with one final smile, I turned on my heel to board my flight.
I took in a breath and ignored the feeling in the pit of my stomach as I made my way up to the escalator.
I was about to take a step onto the escalator but stopped midway when I heard my name being called.
"Mila!"
I pulled my leg back and turned to see Mitchell, running towards me.
I frowned and gave him a questioning look when he approached me.
He took in a breath, "Mila, I..."
A/N Hey guys, I hope all of you guys are safe and well!
Firstly, I hope this chapter was better than the previous one, I know that one wasn't that great and nothing really happened but after this chapter, A LOT is going to happen.
Also, I know some of you must be a little confused by some of the comments on this story since Mitchell's parents are in the picture. This story is a spin-off from my story called His Playboy Ways, BUT you DO NOT have to read that story to understand this one, other than the fact that Mitch is the son of the main characters of that story, it is in no way related to this story. Anything else that can/will be affiliated with that story will be explained as a backstory of the character in question.
I just wanted to clarify that and hope that you guys will still stick with this story till the end and are still enjoying it.
Till then,
Tina