Chapter 124 When Curiosity Burns and Silence Explodes
POV Maya:
Five days later
We finally established a routine. I knew it wasn’t working the way I wanted, so I no longer wake up at four in the morning, but at seven thirty instead. I really wanted to help the brothers, but I realized that this early-rising life isn’t for me. Just like I quickly realized it wasn’t going to work for me to make lunch for them. I really tried in the first few days, but after nearly setting the kitchen on fire, the brothers took over the cooking, and I was left with cleaning the house and doing the laundry.
Okay tasks, I thought. But that didn’t work either.
Through carelessness, I ended up washing their white shirts together with my luxury-edition red panties, which resulted in several pink shirts and angry faces. Sebastian and Adrian do the laundry now. The brothers left me with just one task—one task that wouldn’t be a problem if it weren’t for one simple fact, which I’m staring at right now.
This shit is not going to work.
I look at the lubricant and start creating all kinds of masturbation images in my filthy head. I thought only teenagers had this on their nightstands, but apparently older men do too. If it were anyone other than Mikhail, I’d think a woman had been here and that some ass had gone down on this bed. I hope they know what’s good for their lives and never bring a woman to the farm.
After another night of a horror movie marathon, Mikhail went up to his room to sleep like the little angel I know he isn’t, so I’m sure nothing happened besides a very indecent masturbation session.
I lie down on the bed and stare at the ceiling. I wish I could get inside Mikhail’s head to know what the bastard was imagining while handling his dick. Was he thinking about me? A smug smile spreads across my lips. I would really like that—especially if he thought about me between himself and his twin brother. Damn, is it getting hot in this room, or is it just me? Oh, oh, indecent cowboy, what am I supposed to do with you?
I glance at the lubricant and feel like the son of a bitch is calling to me. And since I’m a social person—if something calls me, I go—I grab it and open it. I smell strawberries and frown instantly. Strawberry lubricant? People, this is new. The most I know about lubricants is the budget version, known as spit. No wonder I only fucked the neighbor on special occasions and the occasional blackmail. Could this be the reason Peter cheated on me? All because we used spit?
Better not think about that piece of trash.
I put a little on my index finger and rub it against my thumb, and it doesn’t take long for my fingers to heat up. What kind of fucking lubricant is this? I read the label and discover it’s a female lubricant, meant to increase a woman’s pleasure.
I roll onto my stomach, trying to understand this mystery that’s suddenly circling my head. Why the hell did Mikhail buy a lubricant that’s clearly for a woman? Is the son of a bitch jumping fences outside the farm without me knowing? Are they meeting potential brides behind my back? We never openly talked about their search for a bride, much less did I tell them that I’m interested.
I want them to like me and choose me, because we work well together. I don’t want to influence them using sex, even though I’ve already thought about jumping them a bunch of times. But fuck, it’s the whole cheating story happening all over again.
I’m so distracted reading the lubricant packaging—because later I want to look it up online and buy some for myself—that I don’t hear footsteps on the stairs, only when it’s too late. I jump off the bed when I hear Mikhail call my name, standing up in seconds, startled at being caught doing what I shouldn’t. As soon as he sees me, his eyes go straight to my hand holding the lubricant bottle, and unfortunately he then shifts his gaze to my face, seeing me with a finger in my mouth. I shouldn’t want to check if the flavor really is strawberry.
What a situation, right, Maya.
“I can explain,” I say, but I don’t know if I really can.
It would be so nice if a hole opened at my feet, swallowed me whole, and sent me far, far away from here. I put the lubricant back in its packaging. It’s actually kind of tasty—I just can’t show how my tongue is on fire. What if Mikhail says it serves me right for messing with what I shouldn’t? This shit burns. I place the lubricant back on the nightstand and look at Mikhail, who’s standing there with his arms crossed, staring at me.
“I’m waiting.” Couldn’t he just pretend this never happened?
“Have you been using this lubricant on someone?” I ask, trying to shift the attention away from me.
I’m not obligated to answer the crazy things I sometimes do for no reason.
“What?” he asks, eyes wide.
Are we really going to keep throwing questions at each other without either of us answering a damn thing? Fine by me.
“The strawberry lubricant,” I point at the object. “Are you using it on someone?”
“What kind of fucked-up question is that?” he snaps defensively, once again not answering.
“I’m just asking. Is it that hard to answer? I thought we were friends.” I flutter my eyelashes, trying to be charming. “I guess I expected too much from whatever this is between us.” I grab the broom, the bucket, and the squeegee and head out of his room.
“I’m going to clean the other bedrooms.”
And maybe snoop through something of Dominic’s to distract myself.
“Maya, wait.” I turn back to Mikhail, who looks at me… embarrassed? Seriously? This indecent man is going to act like that? “I used the lubricant on myself.”
Good to know. I was seriously considering training Louis to chase women off the farm, but the idea of teaching him to keep an eye on the brothers—I’m definitely keeping that. He’s going to be my spy. I already bought him a little outfit online.
Loved the 007 look.
“Can I ask another question?” He nods, looking away. “Why are you using women’s lubricant?” His eyes snap back to mine, alarmed.
“It’s not for women,” he says.
“Really?” I ask, and he nods to confirm.
I walk back into his room and grab the package, holding it out to him. His eyes dart back and forth between the label and me.
“Read it and tell me what it says there,” I ask, laughing, because it’s written in bright pink letters that it’s for women. “Come on, I want to see you tell me that—”
“Stop!” he shouts, startling me. “I’m not going to read a fucking thing. Get out of my room.” I stare at him, shocked. His face is pale. “And never come in here again.”
“I’m sorry, I was—”
“Out!” he yells, and something inside me hurts. I think it’s my heart.
What the hell got into this man?
“Mikhail, calm down. I shouldn’t have touched your things, but I like strawberries, and I—”
“I told you to get out, fuck!” he yells, and I obey instantly.
I run out of his room and keep running, not wanting to stop until I’m as far away as possible. I feel something wet on my face and look up at the sky to see if it’s raining—but it’s not. So where is all this water coming from? I wipe my face and stop short when I realize where it’s coming from.
It’s falling from my eyes.
Just great—crying because I got caught tasting strawberry lubricant. Because that’s why I’m crying… at least that’s what I want to believe.