The Way She Wants It (Michael Jackson FanFiction)

..38..

"You're an ass, Michael Jackson," I laugh as I step down onto the main floor. It took me awhile to figure out where I was going, disoriented and all from the hormones running through my mind when Michael first took me upstairs. 

"That's the main goal," he winks, sipping his orange juice at the island of the kitchen. 

"You're the worst," I laugh even louder, a love ridden smile across my face, "I hate you." 

"I know," he nods, still grinning. I walk over to the island, leaning my elbows on the side across from him.

"I wanted you to fuck me," I sigh resting my head in my hands. 

"Well that wasn't clear," he scoffs sarcastically, making me smile more. Again, if this were anyone else I would've been out of here by now, but I am completely in love with this man. 

"Michael," I whine, sinking down to a squat to look at him just over the countertop, making my eyes big and sensual, "I just wanted to have sex." 

"Be happy I didn't actually punish you for your indiscretions tonight," he lowers his voice, making my insides clench. I lick my lips, rising to stand again. 

"What do you mean?" I ask slowly, "This seems like punishment to me." I smirk. He shakes his head, lowering his eyes. 

"I should take you over my knee." he says sternly, raising a brow. 

Why is this fucking turning me on?!

"Maybe you should," I wink, making him swallow harshly, "You wanna spank me?" I ask, turning my hip for him to see a bit of my ass. 

"Maybe I should," he grins, rubbing his chin as his eyes find their way to my hips, "I think not giving you anything is punishment enough." he smiles a toothy smile, winking at me. 

"You're the worst," I sigh heavily, turning to open his fridge, "You have no food," I tell him, looking in his fridge of orange juice, carrots, apples and condiments. 

"I haven't been here in a while," he says, making me hear him getting closer to me. 

"Clearly," I mumble, bending over to see what's in the bottom drawers. 

A lemon. One fucking lemon. Are you kidding me.

"I told you, I've been busy," he murmurs, wrapping his arms around me from behind. 

"Yeah, right," I mumble, leaning into his strong frame, holding onto his arms that are wrapped around me. 

"You don't believe me?" he asks, kissing the space behind my ear, "Because you should."

"No, no, I believe you," I sigh, lightly pushing the door with my foot for the fridge to close, "I know the life." 

"Better than anyone I know," he hums, kissing the side of my neck.

"I thought you were with holding me from sex," I giggle, tilting my head for him to have full access. 

"I am," he murmurs against my skin, "You're just so irresistible." I laugh, leaning into him further as his hands roam down to the band of his sweatpants that are on my body. Yeah, I found these and this shirt in his drawers, so I'm wearing them.

"Michael," I giggle as he thumbs my thong under his sweats. 

"Babe," he sighs, slowly turning me around to him. 

"Yeah?" I smile, looking up into his eyes. 

"Why don't you ever talk about your parents?" he asks, making my brows shoot up, probably higher than I ever thought they could go. 

"Why do you ask?" I frown, feeling my walls start to go up. 

"Well, I was going to say that I think I want you to meet my parents, and the rest of my family," he starts, tucking a curl behind my ear, as my eyebrows go up again, "and I realized that you never talk about anyone in your family."

I take a step back, completely feeling my walls go right up to block Michael out. He doesn't deserve this, but it's just the way it is. 

"Right," I murmur, shifting my eyes away from his. 

"So, what is it? Why don't you ever talk about your family?" he asks curiously, trying to hold me again, but I step away before he can do so. 

"Uh," I start, folding my arms, "They just never came up, I guess." I shrug, still looking away from him. I can tell that he's looking at me, knowing that that's not the full truth. 

"Come on, babe," he chuckles, trying to get me out of this mood shift that I'm in, "Do you have any siblings, or cousins that you grew up with?" he asks, still trying to get me to come back to him.

"Not really," I sigh, taking another step away from him, "We would go to family functions, and my cousins were cool or whatever, but I'm not really in touch with any of them now. Even if I was, they'd probably just ask me for money." I smirk, not letting it reach my eyes. 

"What about your siblings or parents?" he asks, "What are they up to?" 

"I don't know, they're probably still up in Canada." I frown, actually thinking about what they're up to. Haven't done this in a while. 

"You don't know what they're up to? You don't know how they're doing?" he pushes. He pushed too much. That's enough. 

"I'd rather not talk about this," I sigh, holding my hands out in front of me, before turning to go and... I don't know what I'm about to do. This isn't even my house. 

"Bee, where are you going? You don't even know how to get around here," he sighs, walking after me.

"I'll figure it out," I grunt, walking into what looks like a living room, except a lot larger than what I would call a living room.

"Baby, why won't you talk to me?" he asks, touching my hand from behind, making me pull it away immediately. 

"I just don't want to talk about my family," I say sternly. He grabs my hand, pulling me flush to his chest, making me gasp and my heart skip a beat. 

"Fine," he grins, surprisingly still keeping his composure, "Then we don't have to talk about your family," he sighs, kissing my lips longingly, leaving me wanting more, "I just got you back, and I don't want to lose you. If you don't want to talk about your family we don't have to." 

"Thank you," I nod, letting out a sigh of relief, "I appreciate it." 

"I was just asking because I want you to meet my family, and I wanted to meet yours. But, if you're not ready for that, we don't have to." he says, cushioning his proposal. 

"I have no problem meeting your family, Michael," I smile, placing my hands on his strong shoulders, "I just don't want to talk about mine." I explain. 

"Great," he grins at my acceptance to go meet his family, "Now let's go have sex." he grins deviously before throwing me over his shoulder and carrying me up the stairs to his room as I squeal and giggle the whole way there.