Would You Stop Me?

“I heard that,” Walker smirked as they made their way through a dark hallway, only lit up by some of the last of the sunshine cascading through the windows.

Roxie shrugged, “You can hear what you want to hear, Walker.”

“Well, I just might have to spank that troubled ass of yours right here in this hallway.”

“After what's happened to me today, I wouldn't care.”

He was on her in a flash, leaning her up against the wall, her back to him and his body pushed into her backside.

“Is that right?” He gasped into her ear, “I bet this is what you fantasize about when you're alone. You, me...”

Roxie huffed, trying to wiggle away from his grasp.

“You're a nuisance.”

“But now I am your nuisance.”

“Can you stop poking me with your dick, please? I mean, for someone who claims he doesn't want me, you certainly love touching me.”

Walker stroked her back, his fingers trailing her spine as they made their way to the waistband of her pants.

“Would you stop me?”

“Yes.”

Walker brushed up against her again, inhaling her scent as he ran his hands over her waist and then her hips.

“Walker...” Her little pleas went straight to his balls and he couldn't understand this affect she was having over him, “Please stop.”

Yes, Walker was an asshole, but he wasn't into advancing on a woman if she didn't want him.

Letting her go, he stepped back and watched her regain her composure.

“What was that all about?” Roxie asked, not turning around as they made their way further down the hall.

Walker didn't respond. He didn't have an answer for her at all.

“So, here we are,” Roxie opened a door and stepped into a room filled with art work.

“Holy shit.”

Roxie smiled as Walker examined each and every single painting, drawing, and piece of pottery or sculpture that was in the room.

“You did all of this?”

“Yeah,” Roxie nodded, “I have a lot of time on my hands.”

“Well, you don't have a life, mouse.”

“Can you be more of an asshole?”

“Actually, yes.”

“Then I don't want to work for you.”

“Five thousand dollars.”

“Say what?”

“Five thousand dollars and your mom gets a raise. We can discuss that later.”

Roxie rolled her eyes, “Get out of my house. This isn't a joke. My life isn't a joke, Walker.”

“Your life is a joke, but I am not kidding, rodent. I will pay you to do the portrait of my mother and we'll discuss the raise for your mom.”

“What's the catch?”

“I get to torment you more.”

“You would do that any way.”

“I mean, that is true, but then you'd be in my house—on my turf.”

That sent shivers up and down Roxie's spine. What was he going to do to her?

“I like this one,” Walker said, pointing to a meadow with some deer and a babbling brook behind them, “I want it.”

“It's not free.”

“How much are you asking?”

“Two hundred.”

“OK.”

Roxie's mouth dropped. She should have asked for more.

“Do that thing where you wrap it up nicely so it doesn't get damaged and help me take it to the car.”

Roxie did just that and when she was done, Walker handed her the money.

“You can check if it's counterfeit,” Walker said, as Roxie escorted him out to his car, “But I have enough money to make the gods jealous so..”

“Yeah, yeah..I get it.”

Roxie stood out on her porch as Walker loaded the painting into his car.

“You going to Smith's party tomorrow night, right?”

“No, you already know that I am not invited.”

“I am inviting you. Be there or the deal is off.”

“I can't. I have homework.”

“Lies. Everyone knows you'll have it done tonight before you go to bed.”

“I want to be valedictorian.”

“Yeah, in your dreams, mouse.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“These people don't care about your grades,” Walker said, “They care about who you are.”

“That's not fair.”

“Life ain't fair, mouse,” Walker revved up the engine, “See you at the party or I'll come get you myself.”

She watched him peel out, shaking her head in frustration.

“Gods, I hate that man.”

Walker returned home to a quieter atmosphere.

His neighborhood of Oakwood was nothing like Weeping Willow—his mouse's turf.

Even their dens were different.

It was interesting to him that she'd admitted to feeling something for him, but he didn't want her. He wasn't going to marry a runt.

“That's nice,” Madeline said as she came into her son's room, “Where did you get it?”

She studied the painting and smiled.

“Why did you go there?”

“I wanted to see her work,” he shrugged, “Can she do your portrait? You've been wanting it done for so long.”

“Your father won't,-”

“I will be leader of the coven one day, Mom, not him,” Walker seethed, “We can do it in secret.”

“How?” Madeline looked the painting over again, “She's quite talented.”

“Can you smell her on me?”

“I can,” Madeline smiled, “You might want to shower before your father gets home.”

“She's nothing to me, Mom, I just need her to do this one thing and then we'll both be out of each other's hair.”

Madeline nodded, “Does it mean that much to you?”

“You deserve a painting in the great hall.”

“Do I?”

“You know you do,” Walker told her, “No matter what happened before, he's still my father and your husband.”

“But he's,-”

“I don't care, Mom. You're his wife now and the den mother. He can rot in hell when he dies for all I care.”

Suri stepped into her daughter's room just as the coven left the house.

“Hey,” Roxie smiled, looking up from her studies, “How did it go?”

“It went,” Suri nodded, sighing, “How was your day?”

“It went.”

They both giggled and Suri sniffed the air, “Who was here?”

“Just a classmate. He needed my notes for a test.”

“He?”

“Yeah,he..” Roxie rolled her eyes, “No, don't worry. He is the last person on Earth I am going to fool around with.

Suri blushed, “I keep forgetting you're not a baby anymore.”

“You'll always think of me as your baby, Mom.”

“That's true. The coven left some casseroles from the meeting if you want to join me for some dinner?”

Roxie smiled, “Hey, what would you say if I told you that you were getting a raise?”

Suri laughed, heartily as they made their way to the kitchen.

“Before I fainted, I would ask what type of spell you had over his highness Walker Wells.”