“Aren’t you curious?” he asked. “Don’t you want to know why I want you so badly?”
“No, I don’t,” I shot back, folding my arms across my chest. “I don’t care what you want.”
“Oh, come on, Nikki,” he smirked. “I know you saw the photos on my phone.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said.
“Her name is Cara,” he said. “She’s Filipino. We go to university together.”
“I don’t care who she is!” I snapped. “And I really don’t need to know that you have a fetish for Asian girls.”
“You should care,” he smirked. “Because it’s your fault.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I stammered.
“You remember the first time we met?” he said, scratching his chin. “It was six years ago, the world championships in Las Vegas. I was 13-years-old.”
“So what?”
“Danny was only 8 back then, and his brother was practically a baby,” Johan said. “How old were you, Nikki?”
“I was… 28,” I mumbled, answering his question despite myself.
“I’d never seen a mom that looked like you,” he breathed, his voice growing heavy, laden with arousal. “Not in real life, anyway.”
“Johan,” I said, trying to cut him off.
“You were so hot and fit and young,” he continued. “You remember that pool party they had? The day before the tournament started.”
“I don’t remember,” I said dismissively, not wanting to encourage him.
“I do,” he said, licking his lips. “You wore this tight, black one-piece. I remember you going into the water with Danny, and when you came out, I could see your nipples poking straight through.”
“Johan, you can’t talk to like that–”
“And your tits were so fucking big,” he growled. “Like in porn.”
Immediately I stood up to leave, but Johan was faster, stepping in between me and the door.
“I need to go,” I said firmly. “I won’t let you talk to me like.”
“I’m not done,” he said, unmoving.
“Let me go, Johan,” I demanded, knowing there was no way I would be able to move him against his will.
“Sit back down,” he said, gesturing towards the chair. “Let me finish talking, and then, you can go.”
“You have to let me go,” I protested, refolding my arms. “You can’t just keep me here.”
“I don’t want to fight,” he said softly, raising his palms defensively. “I just need to get this off my chest, okay? I’ve been a good friend to your son for six years, and I’ve been dealing with these feelings the whole time. Just let me say what I have to say.”
“Hurry up,” I said, reluctantly sitting back down.
“You just… your hair, your skin, your face,” he said softly, standing beside the door. “Your body.”
“I told you not to talk that way,” I murmured, slouching down, trying to hide my breasts from his leering eyes.
“You were perfect,” he sighed. “You still are.”
Don’t blush, I thought to myself. Don’t you dare blush.
“I wasn’t into Asian girls back then,” he said, leaning his back against the door. “I hardly even knew any Asian girls growing up in Praetoria. But once I saw you… I couldn’t want anything else.”
I saw him reach for the drawstrings of his running shorts.
“What are you doing?!” I whispered frantically. “Stop that!”