Page 42 of Obsession (Dark Revenge)
“Because you men have thick skulls, and even when we do ask directly, all we often get is ‘sure’, and then you forget a few minutes later.”
“I think you’re generalizing half the people on this earth,” I retorted.
“Jared, the reason we do this is that it gives you a chance to show us that you’ve heard and understood us without us having to be explicit. It’s about picking up on those subtle cues, proving that you know and care for us by acknowledging those small signals. It’s all about those little gestures,” she explained, revealing her romantic side.
“All right, so what am I not picking up?” I asked.
“I’m telling you I’m terrible at this, and I’m guessing you’re good.”
“Yes.”
“Then this is a clear invitation for you to tell me that you’ll teach me how to play, and then you come over here, put your arms around me, and show me what I need to do,” she clarified. “Haven’t you ever watched a teen romance movie?”
I shook my head, and she sighed in disappointment.
“I don’t think Astrid wants me to guide her in anything. She prefers to take charge, especially in bed,” I reminded her.
“Perhaps that’s because you haven’t shown her that you bring more to the table than just being a sexual partner.”
“Fine, let’s try it your way,” I conceded, not entirely convinced that this would help me, but I thought that if I became better at picking up subtle cues, it might prepare me for whatever Astrid had in store for me.
I walked over to Alison, placing my cue against the table as I approached her. Alison put on a pretty little smile, as if she were genuinely excited for me to show her how to play. I gently grasped her waist, turned her, and demonstrated how to hold the cue before pressing my weight into her and guiding her to lean over the table.
I had bent Alison over various surfaces by now, but doing it this time while fully clothed and with no intention of engaging in sexual activity intensified the experience. The sound of our breathing seemed twice as loud in my ears, and when she turned her head slightly, waiting for further instructions, I noticed a faint glint of gold in her blue eyes. How had I never noticed that before?
“What now?” she breathed, her sweet voice tickling my ears and making it difficult to focus on the game we were playing.
“Well, first, you need to stop looking at me as if you’re begging me to kiss you,” I told her, hearing her let out a little giggle before she turned her head. “Then you aim.”
I assisted her in positioning the cue and guiding it toward the white ball, which broke the triangle, causing one of the colored balls to fall into a pocket.
“Oh, one went in!” she exclaimed as we both stood up again. “Remind me what that means.”
“It means you now have to sink all the colored ones but leave the eight ball untouched, or you lose.”
“I see.”
“Were you truly never taught?” I asked.
Alison laughed a little as she walked around the table. “If my mother could see me now, she would probably make me kneel on her diamonds all night long.”
I chuckled, not believing she was serious. However, as Alison bent over the table again, this time attempting to take her shot, I noticed a slight frown on her face.
“You’re not being serious, are you?”
She tried to hit the white ball but missed, signifying that it was my turn. Yet Alison shook her head as she stood up, indicating that she had been teasing me. I nodded in understanding.
“She would never use her diamonds. They were too precious. It was rice.”
Chapter 19
-Alison-
I knew we had agreed not to discuss my parents, but avoiding the topic of my mother was difficult. She had dictated my entire life, while my father remained on the sidelines, providing for me when I asked for things, but never offering emotional support. My parents had a clear division of roles—one raised me, the other provided for me.
However, when I turned to Jared and shared what my mother made me do when she deemed my behavior improper, he seemed frozen. It was as if he was trying to decipher whether this was part of our act, but I couldn’t understand his hesitation. Even if he knew the truth, it wouldn’t grant him any leverage. My mother excelled at maintaining appearances, and my revelation about her abuse wouldn’t tarnish my image. It was not a weapon he could wield against me.
“Rice?” he asked, his voice carrying a hint of disbelief.
