Cherry Bomb (A Michael Fassbender Fanfic)

21: Puddle of Tea

I returned back to my room, dumping my salad in the trash bin.  What a bomb to drop on me.  My vibrantly redheaded malicious cousin was in fact my sister.  I had a hard time believing any of it.  Especially that Rae was in the dark.

I fell back on the bed and stared at the ceiling.  It would make sense if Rae knew.  Of course she would hate me.  I was the daughter my parents wanted.  Rae was cast off to live with our uncle.

I felt sick because I felt sorry for Rae.

Turning to my side, I hugged myself.  I really wanted Michael right now, spooning me from behind.  He'd know exactly what to say.  I pulled my phone out of my pocket and contemplated calling him before deciding against it.

No, this was a conversation best had face to face.

•••

I caught a taxi to The West End House just before the dinner rush.  Using the selfie mode on my phone, I checked for Marilyn Manson eyes.  My make up had been spared but I definitely looked like I'd been crying.

Nothing I could do about it now. 

The hostess up front asked me to wait while she got Michael.  She gave me a funny look, unsure of what I could possibly want him for. 

"Frankie?  Everything okay?"  Michael returned with the hostess.  She was still eyeing me, checking me out, sizing me up as she returned behind her podium.

"Can we talk?"

I followed him toward the back office and he held the door open for me like a gentleman.  The second I passed him, he followed me in and locked the door behind us.

"I need to ask--" before I could finish speaking, Michael had me pinned to the wall.

Feverishly, he kissed me, holding my hands against the wall next to my head.  Our fingers interlocked and I kissed him right back.  I needed to blow off steam somehow, so why not?

My lips kissed his strong jaw and I nipped my way down his neck as he groaned into my ear.  "All day, I imagined exactly this happening, and you showed up.  And here we are.  Tell me it's not fate."

I pushed him back and we crashed against the desk, stumbling to the ground.  I straddled him and began to undo his belt before tackling his shirt.  "Shut up, Michael."

He grinned so big, I couldn't help but laugh.

"Wow, Bean, do that again," he joked.  "That was hot."

I reached the last button of his shirt and leaned forward until my lips were centimeters from his own.  "I said 'shut up.'" I kissed him hard and he groaned.

I felt powerful being in control.  I lifted the skirt of my dress and Michael tugged my panties to the side before slipping a finger in.

"Already good to go," he purred, nipping my chin.  "Sit on me, now."

"Don't tell me what to do."  I glared at him but obeyed anyway. 

Carefully, I slid down his cock and gasped as I stretched to accommodate his girth.  I'll never get used to how he makes me feel.  With him I felt incredibly sexy, almost slutty.  No, definitely slutty.  But like an appreciated slut.  He'd never degrade me.

•••

With the door still locked, Michael and I stayed on the floor in each other's arms under the desk.  I had my head on his chest and he played with my hair, sending shivers down my spine.  I felt him kiss my hair and sigh.

"Did you know about Rae?"  I asked quickly before changing my mind.

"Hmm?  Rae?"

I sat up and placed my bra back around me.  Michael sat up as well and helped me fasten it.  He leaned against the desk and waited for me to explain.