Mrs. Bieber [Zustin Mieber FF] English Version

Part 31

Zayn

-one week later-

Our two week break was extended because we had to cancel a few appointments because our schedules were sometimes uncooperative, such as the weather. Which meant we couldn't fly. And it was all decided at the last minute. Just when I had finished packing and was on the doorstep, at the last minute.

I almost threw my suitcase out the window when Liam informed me that we had five days left. He tried to cheer me up and encourage me to enjoy it, but I was too cynical and in a bad mood to respond to his attempts. I was pissed and frustrated. But that wasn't really any different from usual, I was generally a person who could get angry quickly and then very angry.

Don't get me wrong, I loved having breaks as much as not having breaks. But I had the problem of packing two suitcases and getting up extra early, which really wasn't my thing, I loved my sleep. Then to get a call saying we could stay home for another week was like, "Ha! I was kidding you, all your efforts were in vain!"

If I was being honest, I fell back into bed right after Liam left. OK, I didn't quite make it to bed, I went straight back to sleep on the couch.

I just loved sleeping, don't judge me. I nodded off whenever I got the chance, even if it was just for seven minutes. Sleep was sleep.

But my sleep had now unfortunately turned into my personal torture chamber. My dreams were being abused and taken over by my real life. Justin was the star in all my dreams and not all of them were necessarily full of sex. Some were really sweet, too sweet for him and me. I wanted to puke sometimes, they were so couple-like.

The most recent dream I had was him bringing me flowers. Shitty flowers! A bouquet of red roses to be exact. But my dream self was a flighty mess. Smiling like a fucking madman and of course, being Justin, his notes in the roses were either sexually frustrating or downright snarky.

The note from the last dream just made my dream self crumple up the paper and roll his eyes. I probably would have freaked out and yelled at him.

Those flowers were free and I actually wanted to give them to my mom but then her house smelled so awfully like a drugstore.

-the Biebs

P.S.: Women tend to like that shit.

What a huge asshole. But that's Justin Drew Bieber. And I'm still married to him. And lately it seemed like the annulment papers were still 'processing', whatever that meant.

I hated having so many dreams about him, I loathed the idea of ​​these romantic gestures and it was different being on the other side of it. I would always give the flowers, pay for the date and do all the gentlemanly things. Don't get me wrong here, I like doing these things for girls and I cared, I enjoyed it. But

in these dreams it was the total opposite of what you would expect.

You would assume that we were huge romantics and lovers. In reality I could live just fine without these cheesy romance movies or Valentine's Day. And in the dreams it was just like that. It was Justin and I playing video games, watching sports, and going out to shoot paintballs at each other. Something Perrie would refuse to do, always pushing me to go shopping with her or discuss the latest gossip.

And much to my surprise, my dream self loved every single second of these little fantasies with Justin. Because if I woke up, I would have a huge smile on my face. Or I would wake up confused as fuck and gasping for air, with a huge boner in my pants and sweaty sheets. You don't even have to guess what I was dreaming about.

I was a fucking train wreck, about to explode. I was slowly losing my mind and questioning myself. I had no idea what was going on with me.

I hadn't spoken to Justin in the last few days, he was super busy with his tour and I was just here. And what was I doing? Mostly sleeping. And maybe visiting some old friends or hanging out with the guys. Which was really great, but also a little boring.

But I definitely knew that these dreams were making me even more confused and disturbed than I already was. Before, I was just a little under the weather because I couldn't figure out why I was having these sex dreams, but now I was having these recurring dreams with different scenarios and settings. And I was on the verge of insanity.

Because why was my brain conjuring up these situations or fantasies, they were all so out of character for me. The only way I could think of Justin was sweating, gasping for air, his lips red and swollen.

Well, I've been here before. Those breaks weren't really breaks for me, they were exhausting and just mentally draining me. When I was alone, home alone, my thoughts were somewhere they shouldn't be anyway, but now the most popular subject was Justin. No matter how hard I tried to think about something else. I couldn't. It was really impossible for me.

Ever since that damn kiss, or rather kissing, I couldn't stop wanting to do it all the time. I wanted to kiss him again and not be interrupted, ever. I wanted to kiss that mischievous grin off his face because it was so annoying. And he damn well knew how much he could control me and he used that to his advantage. He probably already knew that he turned me on, right - or maybe he was a little turned on by me too?

Well, OK, I mean, LOOK AT ME. I'm irresistible. I'm sexy, mysterious and had the whole bad boy thing going for me.

I was so distracted by my own thoughts that I could only hear through cotton wool that someone was persistently ringing my doorbell and knocking on it at the same time.

Ding-dong

What the hell?!

Who on earth is at my house so early? Liam and the other guys were at their own house and said they would be in touch in a few days. But you never knew with fans, they were unpredictable. Sometimes they would just show up at my door.

Again, someone impatiently pressed the doorbell and I was starting to worry that that person might break it in.

Ding-dong Ding-dong Ding-dong Ding-dong

I jumped off the couch and almost tripped over my own feet as I ran to the door. Again the doorbell was being mercilessly tortured and whoever was at that door, I was going to kill them.

I assumed it was just someone like the Jehovah's Witnesses or some people trying to sell me things from a catalog. Whatever, I'm going to tell them to fuck off.

Well, maybe in a nicer tone and not with those exact words but I think you get my point.

But as I threw open the door my eyes met a pair of hazel eyes that reflected the same anger as mine.

"About time!" He shoved me out of the way and dragged a suitcase into my house behind him.

My mouth dropped open in disbelief.

"Nice home you have, Wifey, pretty dark but I'll deal with it. I'm staying until Tuesday," he muttered as he set his suitcase down in the living room.

I turned around and slammed the door. "What the hell?! What are you doing here?"
His lips curled into that smile that haunted my dreams.

"Well, I got this call yesterday from Scooter, he said I had this thing here in London. All totally spontaneous, just in passing. He said I should take a flight and would be here in London by Tuesday."

"And who exactly said you were staying in MY apartment?!" I demanded. He couldn't just come here like it was his house. "I don't remember ever inviting you."

Justin's grin widened. "Don't you mean OUR apartment, Wifey? I thought, why spend money on an expensive hotel when I have the perfect cute apartment here?" My mouth must have looked like a fish's because I was so stunned. And I felt like an idiot because since we were married we shared absolutely everything and even if we had drawn up the annulment, this house was technically and legally his. "What's mine is yours and what's yours is mine? Did you forget that, Wifey?" His eyes flashed with mischief and all I could think was "Fuck my life."

I growled and threw my hands in the air. "So you're here until Tuesday?"

Justin nodded in agreement. "Yep, then I'm out of your hair. (1) Which by the way is totally messed up right now, what the hell happened? They would never book you as an Axe model."

I glared at him and ran my hand through my hair. "But that would require me to use the product."

He chuckled. "Katy Perry was the face of Proactive and you really think she uses those products?! Please!"

I gritted my teeth and rolled my eyes.

"Well, never mind. Now could you do me a huge favor, Mrs. Bieber, and lead me to the master bedroom?"

I snapped my head around to him and narrowed my eyes. "Don't push it too far, Bieber, you'll be lucky if I take you to the guest room."

"This is my house as much as yours, now take me to the bedroom." He ordered.

I walked towards him, feeling the sexual frustration pumping through my veins as I narrowed my eyes.

He just glared back as I moved even closer to him. "You are not staying in my master bedroom, you may own this place but you didn't pay for it. So either you sleep in the guest room or you're out of luck."

Justin's brows furrowed and he growled, "I don't want to sleep there either, the sheets are probably covered in cum, sweat and bugs." He snorted and grabbed his suitcase.

I just grinned because I had won and he was pissed and I was right. He might own that house, but I was still the owner and I bought the house with my own money. So he was on my territory, so my rules applied.

"So, let me show you where you're staying," I said, walking down the hall as I could hear him dragging his suitcase behind me.

I might have had a smile on my face, but it was only because I didn't want to show him how annoyed I was that he was staying here, that he was just coming without warning me. Most of all, it meant that I would have to deal with the sexual tension hanging in the air between the two of us for days.

Justin followed me down the hall to the guest room that friends, family, or other visitors usually stayed in so they didn't have to pay for a hotel. I would die to be able to just send Justin to the next hotel. Hell, I would even pay the damn bill.

But Justin was a stubborn guy and when he wanted something, he went for it. And Justin would start a war and get his lawyer just to prove he was right. So, to avoid the chaos and possible humiliation, I just showed him where to stay.

I opened the door and looked into the room, which was slightly smaller than my own bedroom. It had a bedspread on the bed, a private bathroom and a small balcony, so if he wanted to smoke, nothing would stop him.

Justin looked around cautiously. "That's it?"

I nodded. "Yeah, have fun at 'Casa De La Malik'."

Justin snorted. "It should be 'Casa De La Bieber', Wifey. You still took my last name, don't keep forgetting that."

I glared at him, trying to decide whether to throw him off the balcony or silence him with my lips. I would really prefer the latter. No, I wouldn't do that. Neither of us had spoken about what had happened at the VMA's anymore, we just agreed that we were taking advantage of the "benefits of being married," but we hadn't used them since that night.

And as if that wasn't enough, he suddenly appeared and shooed me around like his personal slave. So I was really too busy being angry and frustrated to think about him right now.

"Should I expect more visitors?" I asked with sarcasm in my voice.

Justin rolled his eyes. "Who? Heidi? No, she's in Chicago, this was supposed to be a solo mission. The meeting is on Monday, I'll be flying again on Tuesday."

I nodded. "Make yourself comfortable, but don't think I'm going to cook for you and clean up after you. This isn't a hotel."

Justin grinned. "As much as I'd love to see you in a maid's dress, I think I'm passing this weekend."

I narrowed my eyes. "Don't overdo it, Bieber. I'm not enjoying your sudden presence."

His lips briefly turned up in a pout, but then a small grin formed and he walked towards me as I eyed him suspiciously.

He sauntered towards me, wearing more layers than I liked and one of them was a jacket that fit him really well and looked damn good.

Something stirred below my belt as I was slowly pushed against the closed door. I couldn't breathe properly and my eyes were glassy, ​​my head imagining twenty different scenarios so I didn't even fully realize how close he actually was.

He leaned forward and pressed his lips against mine, just for a moment and I almost whimpered when he quickly pulled away. "Admit it, you want me in more ways than one." And briefly placed his lips on mine again.

He pushed himself off the wall and reached for the doorknob behind me to open the door. He pulled it open with a jerk and I stumbled a little as he quickly left the room.

"Now show me the kitchen, I'm starving."

As I tried to catch my breath and get my heartbeat under control, I muttered quietly to myself:

"This is going to be a long weekend."


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