36. Little Fairy
**36. Little Fairy**
I wake up with a groan, feeling nausea and pain in my back. This is the fourth time in the week that I am feeling morning sickness. This pregnancy shit is getting shitter.
I barely opened my eyes and subconsciously I look to my side. The bedsheet is plain and the pillow is neatly aligned with zero wrinkles.
*He didn’t sleep here last night.*
I don’t understand why I am surprised and a bit disappointed not to find Ceasar in the bed with me. Now that I recall, last night it was too much.
First I kissed the wrong brother who was the right brother from the start, then the right brother came and he kissed me like he hates me, then I again met the wrong brother, who I thought was gay but turns out he loves to display equal interest in hard manly rockets just as in warm wet pockets.
*Uff!*
I feel like I am in a dramatic book with crazy plot twists!
I look to my empty side again, if Ceasar is not here then where did he sleep? I push the heavy cover off of me and hold my swelled belly as I head straight to the bathroom with wobble steps.
The need to pee is more urgent in me than the need to find my missing husband.
*Husband.*
My mind begins the slide show of Ceasar’s smile, his hair, lips, and hands as I sit on the toilet and empty my bladder. His lips were rougher and more demanding. My brain refuses to let go of his words…
*“Duties as a wife, to satisfy husband.”*
*Wife.* I recite the word again in my mind. Though it is a simple four-letter word, it displays great commitment, responsibility, and duty. A wife…
She serves for *His* pleasure,
A slut for *His* needs.
A target for *His* whips,
And a canvas for *His* marks.
Is this what he wants me to do for him? But this is not even a real marriage. We didn’t even recite genuine vows.
I sit there in silence with my stimulated thoughts as the toilet with its modern technology silence the noises of my personal business and wipe. Then it super quietly flushes itself as soon as I stand.
I sleepily watch the Japanese smart toilet clean itself fully automatically and wonder if I’ll ever get used to living lavishly with this man.
I freshen up and walk out of my room to look for any human signs but I fail to find any. I look through other empty rooms before proceeding down. I look left-right.
*Did he run away or what?*
Suddenly my steps halt and change their direction as the smell of chocolate seduces my nostrils, coming from the kitchen.
My steps freeze as I see him behind the counter, in a grey sweatshirt with an apron on his broad chest and a spatula in his veiny hand.
My heart skips a beat as he flips that steaming pancake in the air, with full-on concentration, and makes a perfect fall in the pan afterward. Like a five-star Michelin.
My heart claps at the little stunt as it begins to beat erratically, whispering how sexy it was.
*Like a fucking turn-on as if he is flipping my hot pussy in that pan.*
Our eyes meet and instantly, a beautiful smile breaks on his *fucking* handsome face as he beams, “Good morning, darling.”
*Ah shit! Cason.*
My mood instantly drops and I feel nausea kicking back in. I feel my stomach vomiting inside my stomach as I look at the most disturbing handsome guy. *This bitch!*
“Morning, Cason.” I spit the words out of me, laced in venom as I walk past him to fetch a bottle from the fridge and sit on the high stool beside the counter, sipping and watching his flipping skills.
*Show off!*
Cason’s stark grey eyes look down at me and as he stretches the neckband of his tee and sneers, “Oh it’s so hot in here. I wonder if it’s the grill, four burners? Or… Is it me?”
I roll my eyes at the motherfucker. *How annoying!*
I casually look around the house to make eye contact with another pair of smokey grey eyes, but the clanking noise of vessels gets my attention.
Cason shuffles through the cabinet, pulling out a plate, knife, glass, multiple items at once, and decorates it all in front of me. *What is this toe licker doing?*
“Though breakfast tastes better on my bed,” He places the steamy pancakes, covered in a thin layer of chocolate and slices of banana to the sides on the plate as he smiles, “Here you go, Fatina.” *(Little Fairy)*
I narrow my eyes at him and frown, “Did you just call me fat?”
Cason throws his head back and laughs, his chuckles resonate through my ears like sweet gospel music. “You are cute. Very cute.” He smiles showing his perfect white teeth.
I ignore his hearty guffaw and the *cute* comment as I focus on the pancakes in front of me. I take a small bite, the blazing heat from the slice burns my tongue but the taste is worth to die for.
“Do you believe in love at first bite or shall I add more Nutella?” Cason sneers playfully as he observes my face.
I look up at his gawking eyes and nod, “I think it’s fine.” I take another bite with banana and all the flavors dance in my mouth with its sweet aroma partying in my nostrils. *Hmmm.*
Cason’s features get hard as he leans towards me. I watch his hand slowly reaching to my face, I feel chills running through me as he wipes his thumb along my lower lip and slowly utters, “I like how you swallow my pancakes.”
* *Cough.* *
* *Cough.* *
I choke on the last bite and throttle like a TB patient. My eyes turn watery while my throat feels like sandpaper as weird images run through my mind.
*Oh god, horror!*
The corner of his lips lifts up as he licks his thumb and maliciously grins, “I like how you choke on my pancakes too.”
All the blood running in my body accumulates on my face and I flush red. Red like *to-ma-toes.*
His lewd words and acute gaze make my brain run a marathon of porn videos, slide by slide. “What is wrong with you?” I panic and drink cold water, quenching my wheezing body and cooling my heated cheeks.
“I love how comfortably we are flirting with each other.” Cason sneers happily from ear to ear.
“We are not flirting, only you are.” I bark defensively, clearing his misunderstanding.
“It seems like you need a little extra seasoning in life, and I got the right amount of salt.” He smirks looking at me.
“I don’t need your *extra* salts.” I mock at his cocky face.
Cason chuckles and pulls out another plate of chocolate pancakes for himself and sits across me. He folds the pancake into half and takes a large bite out of it saying,
“While we enjoy our date, how about you tell me about that friend of yours that you accused me of cheating on?”
“This is not a date.” I scoff ridiculously. *Is this duck out of his fucking basket?*
Cason’s sleek eyebrow lifts an inch as he utters one word, “Name.”
“Dennis.”
Cason’s feature softens as he sits back relaxingly, “Oh, Dennis… I see.” He spends a few minutes, thinking deeply before asking, “Who is Dennis?”
Suddenly I feel an intense pressure building in my lower stomach and I know I need to pee instantly. I leave the pancake and look in search of a washroom before I leak out.
“Joyce? Hey?” Cason calls me from behind but I hurriedly get into the first room where I find Marget changing the covers of the pillows.
She tells me something in her thick Italian accent as I run towards the bathroom to empty my overflowing bladder. I place my ass on the toilet seat and relieve my poor pee bag.
*Pregnancy has a natural way of prioritizing your body’s biological needs before all others.*
The smart toilet warms my bottom and enshrouds the sounds completely as I pee in peace.
“Joycelyn.”
I freeze instantly as I hear my name echoing in the bathroom while I am in the middle of leaking.
*Shit!*