Carl： Caveman Instinct series 2.5(13)
Annabelle
Mum looked a lot better today. I came upon her eyeing the nurses.
“Bellie, you took my advice.” Her eyebrow raised up and down suggestively and then she winked at the bodyguards that followed me.
“No Mum, I didn’t. I was kidnapped by a crazy man and these are his bodyguards that he insists I have.”
Mum burst into a fit of laughter, but quickly stopped and grimaced. “Mum, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“It just hurts to laugh, Bellie.” She shifted to a more comfortable position and winked at the bodyguards. “Oh Bellie, you were always good at telling stories. So darling daughter of mine, introduce me to your men.”
“Mum, I told you they’re not my men. These are bodyguards.” I turned to see who’d followed. “The one with the smirk is Mathew and the one that looks like he’s made of stone is Lurch.”
Mum waved as elaborately as she could from a hospital bed. “Hello gentlemen who are not my daughter’s men. I’m Darla, Bellie’s mother.”
“Bellie?” Mathew chuckled.
Glaring at the bodyguard I turned back to my mother. “Mum, I’m glad you’re better. I’m here to be with you today and get you anything you need.”
“Why do you want to spend your Saturday in a hospital looking after me? I’m in a place where people take care of me. Go, have fun with your ‘bodyguards.’”
“Mrs. Clarkson, your daughter isn’t telling tales. These are the guards I assigned to her. My name is Dr. Carl Silverman, and your daughter is mine.”
Chapter four
Annabelle
My mother loved Carl. She’d been so happy when he claimed me as his. The idiot even told my mum she could plan our wedding. Supposedly it would keep my mother occupied while she stayed in hospital and when she got out and was in recovery. Neither my mother, nor Carl, listened to me when I denied there would be a wedding or that he couldn’t just assume I would say yes if he asked. I barely knew him and already he and my mother were pals.
We pulled up to a fortress style fence and gate that surrounded the property. I could see the cameras and didn’t need to be told that it was a top of the line security system. The gates opened to a white driveway. The elaborate gardens were very green, with splashes of colorful blooming flowers. I looked out the window, transfixed by my surroundings. The house came into view and a gasp left my lips. It wasn’t just a mansion. It was a mansion on steroids. If I really wanted to get technical I’d call it a friggin’ palace. The backdrop was the water, so I bet the back half of the house overlooked the beach. Three stories high, it resembled a castle, with sandstone pillars, white brick, black tiled roof and fancy windows that added to the grandness. I wondered briefly if he was compensating for anything, but dismissed that thought as I remembered how big his dick had felt when it rubbed against me this morning.
We drove around to the side where mechanical doors opened and the car drove in. Even the bloody garage was elaborate, with murals of cars painted on the walls and what looked to be signed memorabilia from racing car drivers. It wasn’t messy and didn’t look to house any tools, dirt or storage crap. I’d never seen any garage like it. “Where do you keep all your junk?” I was curious. I kept all my crap that I might need someday in my mother’s garage.
Carl raised one perfectly sculptured eyebrow. “I don’t own any junk.”
Ha, yeah right. Everyone has junk. I mean, I was sure everyone had at least a junk drawer. You know that drawer where you put pamphlets, and pens that don’t work, but maybe if you try again sometime they may. “Okay so you don’t have junk in your garage. I keep all mine in my mother’s.” Carl’s gaze narrowed and his fingers threaded through mine. “You know, like the exercise bike that I bought and used for a month or two, or the boxes of my teenage clothes and kid stuff.”
“Why don’t you just throw them out?” He asked as we walked through a door and into a hallway.
I stopped and stared at him, horrified. “Why would I do that? I may need them someday.”
His brown eyes darkened until they looked almost black and a spark shone in them. His lips quirked up and his dimples popped. I really couldn’t help the sigh that escaped. “Oh really. You think you’re going to need and want to wear clothes from when you were fourteen?” His body shook as he chuckled
“Well, I wouldn’t wear the clothes. Not that I could fit into them anyway, but I may want to um, give them to my daughter if I ever had one.” This was my justification for keeping them for the last fifteen years.