Living Short in Bel Air (Completed 2013)

ChapteЯ 7: Violating a nude ass of a baby angel

**VERY IMPORTANT**

Was listening to this to get in the groove. --------->Walking on a Sunshine by Katrina & the Waves

ChapteЯ 7: Violating a nude ass of a baby angel

“You really ought to snap out of this habit,” I scowled, feeling like a baby in his large arms.  I would say this was a sexy move, but let’s get real.  It was as childish as picking up a toddler and speaking in an obnoxious high pitch voice. 

“What habit?” he asked, carrying me up the white wooden stairs. 

“The one where you carry me to places where I don’t want to be,” I flatly stated.  It took every stubborn muscle in my body not to wrap my arms around his neck, the lingering aftershave sending me over the edge. 

Reaching the porch, I expected to see some snooty twenty year old pricks clinking their sparkling glasses, and giggle at the child being carried by a handsome man.  But to my surprise, elders in their twilight years were small talking along the railings, spending their days with the outdoor breeze. 

“If it weren’t for your hard skull and provocative admissions, this wouldn’t have been necessary,” he lowly murmured.  I stubbornly looked up and found him staring down at me, his eyes slowly drifting to my lips. . .

“And if it isn’t Mr. Ryder!” 

His gaze quickly averted, and I cleared my throat.  Carefully setting me on my feet, I creased down the sundress and cautiously patted my hair.  Fixing his collar, Clint genuinely smiled at the woman and took her extended hand for a quick kiss.  “Nice to see you, Anna.  Looking beautiful as usual.”

She raised her tall glittering glass and showed a nod of appreciation.  “Glad you still got your manners unlike your old man back home.” 

He smoothly laughed, seeming not a tad embarrassed.  I stood in awe how well he could mask his emotions to others.  Maybe I could learn a few pointers from him. 

“Anyhow,” she gave me a once over as if she was trying to remember who I was, “Since when did you get yourself a pretty little gal?”

“Anna.”  Clint cupped my elbow and gave me a warm smile.  “This is Ly-a Monroe.  Ly-a, this is Anna.  My mother and Anna used to go way back,” he answered, already reading my mind. 

I stuck out my arm, cautiously shaking her hand as if it were made out of glass.  But to my surprise, her shake was firm and hard, reminding me a lot like my own.  Returning with a confident smile, I straightened my back as her eyes widened at my name. 

“Monroe, hm?”  She fixed at my shoes to my face and slightly raised a brow.  “It’s nice to see a well polished woman strutting around Bel Air once in a while.”  Blowing a sigh, she shook her head.  “These days, women strut around with shorts that have their cheek bottoms hanging out or skirts that should be illegal.”