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D inner was silent except for the clinking of silverware on plates. Nolan and I sat opposite each other while his mother occupied the middle chair on the left side of the table. I had tried to spark some dinner conversation to make this situation less awkward, but my attempts landed like a thud. Nolan was acting like everything was fine, while his mother was looking at me with suspicious eyes. I was sure she didn't like me. Her reply to my greeting was curt. Nolan had told me his mother would be staying with us and to take all of my clothes out of my room and put them in his. Jacqueline had come with so much luggage, I wondered if she was staying with us forever.

And now she was acting like I was an intruder in her home. She had already made the place feel as if she owned it. As soon as she arrived, she put Magnus to work, creating a different menu for the week from the one he had made. The one Nolan specifically instructed was to be followed to the tee. When Magnus protested, she said, 'that's how Nolan would like it.' Magnus has glanced at me helplessly. I chose not to participate in that discourse and had retreated to my studio until it was time to eat.

When I came to the dining room, Jacqueline had rearranged the furniture, and had reduced the table to a smaller size, something I didn't know was possible. She probably put Magnus to the task of redecorating. The poor man looked exhausted when he bid me goodbye. Nolan's eyes twitched when he saw the menu change, but he said nothing and ate his food in silence. Isn't this the same man who had thrown a fit for eating his Tuesday sandwich? Magnus had also plated the food, something he rarely did which I presumed Nolan did not like.

Magnus served me half my usual amount of food, but I did not protest. I had a suspicion he was following Jacqueline's instructions. I finished eating in record time, but still felt hungry. I got up, intending to go to the kitchen to get seconds, when Jacqueline cleared her throat. I ignored her at first, but when I was at the threshold of the kitchen and the dining room, she cleared her throat again.

"Anything the matter?" I asked.

She shrugged her shoulders whilst cutting her meat. "It's just bad manners, that's all; you shouldn't get up before everyone else is done."

I had never heard of such a rule, but I didn't want to argue with her on that front. "I'm going in for seconds."

She frowned. Glanced at Nolan, who looked like he was pretending not to listen, then she said, "Are you sure you're still hungry?"

"I haven't eaten the whole day, so..."

She glanced at Nolan again, as though she wanted him to say something. Nolan was checked out. I went to fill my plate with more food. Her eyes were on my plate as I ate, and if I wasn't hungry, I might have had a hard time swallowing under her judging gaze.

"What's wrong with your mom?" I asked Nolan when we were alone in his bedroom. I was trying to avoid the giant bedroom that took up a lot of space, not just in the room, but in my head. Last time I was here, I had behaved like a nymphomaniac and I couldn't stop thinking about that night. Buying an inflatable mattress and sleeping in the studio would have been a great idea, but sleeping arrangements escaped my mind until now.

"She can be a bit weird, but don't worry, she won't be here for long. She was kicked out of her apartment by her friend because the friend thinks she was working with the person who scammed them."

"Oh." Jacqueline looked too shrewd to fall for a con, but con artists typically target women her age for the most lucrative scams. "I feel so sorry for her."

"Don't be. I tried to warn her, but she wouldn't listen. The money she lost wasn't hers, but she's trying to play the victim so she can gain the most sympathy points amongst her friends."

"I mean, she was victimized." She could be a stick up the ass, but no one deserved to be scammed.

"Yeah? She could have stayed in a hotel, but she insisted on staying with me. Why?"

"Maybe she's seeking solace from a loved one after a tragic event?"

Nolan snorted. "I told you my parents are a different breed. My mother especially. She can't stand being wrong, and she was colossally incorrect this time around, so she wants attention, sympathy, anything. Anyway, over time, I've seen that ignoring her antics results in her giving up and leaving you alone. "

Nolan went to take a shower, and I pondered what he said as I put the pillow barrier between us. It hadn't worked last time, so I don't know why I thought it would work again. By the time Nolan came back, I was in bed reading a book I had found in his study. He had such an interesting collection. I had wandered into the room looking for a pen for my artwork when I got pulled in by the neatly organized bookshelf. Like everything about him. Disorder was not a concept he knew.

The book that attracted me was a classic. Sherlock Holmes. I've always wanted to read the original, so why not? But Arther Conan Doyle's language and style was a bit hard to read for my modern sensibilities. I guess it will make a good sleeping drug.

Nolan frowned when he saw me reading it. Oh no. I hope I didn't make a mess of his precious book. I made a deliberate statement of reading it and flipped a page with a dramatic flair. He got into bed, picked up a tablet that had been lying on his nightstand and said, "You do know that's a first edition?"

My hands shook, and the book almost slid. "What?" I flipped to the front page to check, as though I knew what a first edition would look like. "Sorry! I didn't mean to." No wonder it was behind a glass case. I thought he had put it there for aesthetics .

He shrugged. "Doesn't matter. Books are meant to be read, anyway."

"Are you sure?"

"Trust me, you can raid the entire collection for all I care. It was my father's. I inherited his collection when he died. That must be worth twenty thousand dollars at least. The fifteenth century Italian manuscript that was next to it is much more valuable by a factor of twenty. Don't read that."

I closed the book and set in on the nightstand with the caution of someone handling a twenty thousand dollar book. "I don't think your father would be happy with me going through his collection and devaluing it with my grubby hands."

"All the more reason to do so." The venom in his voice was unmistakable. Sometimes I would forget he hated his father and then he would react like this.

"What was your relationship like?"

"Huh."

"You and your dad."

Nolan sighed and looked like he was about to respond when, instead, his face darkened and he said, "None of your business."

Ooookay. "Sorry for asking. But it's rather sad that you have an awful relationship with both your parents. It must fuck up a person, you know."

"My shrink says I am fine," he said curtly.

I doubt the shrink said that, or that he spoke to one at all. It was a warning that I shouldn't push it. If there was something I knew about my husband, it is that he gave these little 'don't go there' warning signs. But for some reason, maybe it was his mother, maybe it was something else. I wanted to go there. I wanted to know why he was the way he was.

"Your shrink should give you a refund. They did a bad job."

"And what does that mean?"

"You have clear hangups when it comes to your family. You act like a parent to your siblings. You hate your mother and your father. You don't want kids."

"How do you know I don't want children?"

"The way you were scared at the thought of being baby trapped said all that needed to be said."

"I want kids, just not ones with the Burgess stink on them."

"Funny." The jab shouldn't have hurt more than it did, but I still felt it to my core. It reminded me he could be cruel when he wanted to. It was another warning, but I pushed forward regardless. Our conversation on the yacht came back to me. "You think love doesn't exist and you low-key hate yourself."

"Ay... "

"Did I lie?"

He glowered at me. His jaw was ticking. Time passed as I held his stare, daring him to budge. Say something. But he didn't. Instead, he placed his tablet back on the nightstand, threw away the pillows, and grabbed me at the waist. I yelped as he drew me down onto the bed and he slid his body over me. He wore pajamas tonight, but that didn't make him less sexy. My own pajamas felt like a flimsy barrier to his body. His body over me radiated male energy that made my pulse race, drawing everything to sharp focus. He pinned my hands above my head. I struggled for release, but our bodies writhing against each other made us both hotter. The fire in his eyes made me pause.

"What's your problem?" his voice did not carry the anger I expected from the aggression he dealt with his body. There was a note of hunger. Of that same passion he spoke of on the boat. His lesson came back to mind. Lust. He had said he wanted to show me what lust was like. Why was that on my mind?

I raised my chin. "Maybe I should ask you that. You're the one who acted like an animal and slammed me down with your body."

"You have no idea how much of an animal I could be."

"What does that mean?"

"Lust. "

So he wasn't the only one thinking about it. "What about it?"

"I never showed you what it's like. I think it's time for a lesson."

My eyebrows shot up just as his mouth landed on mine. Harsh and urgent. My lips surrendered to his and opened to let his tongue dance with mine. He was insistent and determined. His lips moved slowly one moment, then frantic and searching the next. My hands twisted in his grip, wishing to touch him. I moaned, wanting to tell him what I wanted to do to him, but words were meaningless under his spell. Nolan had a knack of turning my thoughts into mush whenever he kissed me, and this time, it was no different.

His lips trailed down to my neck and reached my chest, where he used his other hand to unbutton my silk pajama top. His nostrils flaring when he revealed my breasts. "I don't think I'll ever get tired of seeing these," he said, palming one breast. My toes curled, and I writhed beneath him as his fingers rubbed and twisted my nipple. "Are you always this responsive with other men, or is it just me?"

"Do you want to talk about other men right now?"

"You're right." His finger rolled over the nipple, slowly. Torturously. "It's silly to care."

"You're the only one who's ever made me feel like this. "

He growled and clamped his mouth on my other nipple. Sparks shot from my breasts to every part of my body, driving me wild, helpless as he licked and sucked, rubbed and pinched until I was breathlessly moaning and then biting my lips, afraid my voice would carry. My back arched, my center rubbing against his.

I twisted my hands in his grip. "I want to touch you."

"No," he muttered as his hands slid down to my pajama pants. It was a struggle to remove them with one hand, but he persevered. Sighing in victory as my pants came off, before ripping my underwear, ignoring my yelp as he threw them to the pile of pillows. His hungry gaze caressing my body melted my insides and made me feel like the sexiest woman in the world.

Finally, he let go of my hands, grabbed my thighs and splay my legs wide open. My glistening pussy, an offer to him. I watched as his head dipped between my legs and dined on me as though he wanted nothing else than my pussy. The sensation was euphoric. My breath caught in my throat. I thought I was about to die, as I reached that peak and suddenly, he took his lips away. I was on the edge. A slight nudge and I will be coming, but it seems not yet.

"You taste amazing," he said as he came up to face me and placed a small kiss on my lips. A heady kiss when I tasted myself on him. When we came up for air, there was a look in his eyes that I could not quite understand, and before I could think too much about it, I yelped again when he flipped me around on my stomach. He drew up my legs, so that I was on my knees while my entire chest was flat on the sheets.

He caressed my butt cheeks. His hand wandered down to my clit, playing with it and turning the already extremely sensitive nub close to being numb. He let go of me and a few moments later; I heard a foil paper getting ripped and a condom rolling onto a cock. Then his hands were on the sides of my butt again. He thrust his cock inside me with one smooth stroke, driving me into the sheets, my hard nipples brushing against the fabric. He was slow with the first few strokes, as though he was savoring how he felt inside me, but then he increased the pace. Fucking me relentlessly. His hands were all over my back. Gripping my butt, caressing my spine. Grabbing my neck and drawing me up for a kiss. Slipping around to my breasts and groping them, only to let me go and increase his pace further. He controlled every part of the act, but it felt as though his control was slipping. As though he was going crazy with lust and trying to drive the same explosive emotion inside me. But I was just as deranged as he was. Just, if not more wanton and wanted more of this. More of being under his control until I forgot who I was or how I got here in the first place.

I was close to coming. So close.

Then he withdrew and rolled off to lie beside me. When I heard him remove the condom, I flipped over until I was facing him. "What's wrong?" I asked. I was at the pinnacle and feeling frustrated the longer we lay there.

"That's what I meant." He got out of the bed and my gaze trailed him as he marched towards the bathroom. Despite his slightly disheveled pajamas, he kept them on, unlike me. But I didn't fully notice it at the moment.

"What?" I shook my head, confused.

"Lust." He disappeared into the bathroom. That's when it dawned on me. He was talking about the lesson.

I threw a pillow in his direction. "Fuck you Nolan!"