Chapter 7
He had to stop staring at her.
Immediately.
It was really not a good idea to stare at her.
It was such a bad idea, in fact, but then his life itself was like a string of bad ideas so what was one more? And God, she looked absolutely beautiful. If he only could, he would ask her to wear nothing else but those stunning, long black dresses forever. He could not even begin to describe what they did to his imagination, just to think of those glorious curves hidden under the layers of the black silk and lace.
"This is a beautiful view," Patricia Frump mentioned breezily behind him, making Gomez almost jump out of his skin.
Well, fuck.
He knew staring at Morticia was a bad idea.
He turned to the older lady and promptly plastered a confused expression on his face, he figured his only option now was to act completely clueless.
"Pardon?" He asked.
"The city," Patricia explained, pointing at the indeed quite spectacular view of the artificially illuminated night city line before adding pointedly, with slow deliberateness."I assume that's what you were looking at, weren't you?"
Gomez Addams resisted the urge to squirm under her knowing gaze.
That, and her vividly canary yellow suit she wore today. He really liked the older lady to bits but her fashion sense was even more atrocious than Ophelia's.
Still, their fashion sense, or lack of it, was really the least of his problems at the moment.
"Yes," he lied smoothly, holding her look unwaveringly and forced an unconcerned smile on his face."I was, it's a spectacular view."
"Undoubtedly," Patricia retorted firmly.
He felt as if she was drilling that gaze into his brain.
"I didn't expect you to attend the race," Gomez remarked, deliberately changing the subject, which was probably not lost on the woman before him but she smiled at him nevertheless.
"Oh, Granny absolutely adores manically fast driving," Ophelia remarked with a surprising fondness as she joined them, swinging her car keys on her index finger. "We couldn't have this race without her, the more people cheering my victory the better," she added, flashing them a charming smile
"Don't praise the day before it's over, I say," Vlad interjected promptly, resting his hand on Morticia's small back as he led her closer towards them.
Gomez immediately wished he could chop Vlad's hand off. Both hands, for that matter.
"You still have time to call this thing off," Vlad offered cheekily, but Gomez knew he was only partially jesting because his cousin regretted this whole racing idea passionately and he hasn't stopped moaning about it ever since, while Gomez found the whole situation hilarious.
Well, Vlad should have known that stepping on Ophelia's ego, which seemed to be firmly attached to the atrocious red vehicle, was a stupid idea. Although, it gave Gomez the opportunity to see Morticia again and stare at her furtively like a pathetic fool so there was always a bright side to every situation.
"Fat chance," Ophelia rolled her eyes, linking her arm through Gomez's."Unless you want to admit your piece of junk could never match my Ferrari, although... I must admit I admire your guts for letting Morticia drive," she added smoothly, her lips curling into a mean smile. "I don't think I would be brave enough."
Gomez thought his cousin looked suddenly a few good shades paler and couldn't help but smirk at Ophelia's deliberate goading.
"What do you mean brave enough?" He asked, more than slightly alarmed before turning toward Morticia who just batted her eyelashes at him."What does she mean by that?"
"Oh, well, I think she means she wouldn't let me drive her precious car for the fear of never seeing it again...in one piece," she quipped, her lips stretching into a benevolent smile.
Vlad pointed at her accusingly with his index finger.
"It's not funny, Morticia."
Patricia Frump turned to the young man before her, looking at him with mild concern. Even her granddaughter, with her unearthly pallor, looked healthier than Vlad Addams at this moment, who looked like he very much regretted getting out of bed in the morning.
"Are you alright, dear?" She asked him and watched Vlad turn his gaze towards her, flashing her a charming smile.
"Yes, I'm fine," he insisted, taking a deep albeit shaky breath. "Don't I look alright?"
"No," it was Gomez who answered, slowly rolling out the map of the Addams Estate against the hood of Vlad's yellow Lamborghini.
"You look like you want to curl into a fetal position and weep," he continued in a deadpan manner before turning towards Morticia who stood next to him, arms crossed against her middle, a small, amused smirk playing on her red lips.
Gods, he wanted nothing more than to taste those glorious lips again, he could barely focus on the task at hand and it didn't help that she was so close to him.
It didn't help that his wife was even closer, either.
"Alright, this is the way we're going to drive," Ophelia pointed at the roughly drawn, narrow trail on the map.
Morticia gazed at the yellowed paper and nodded.
"Seems straightforward," she commented flatly.
"Well, actually it's anything but," her sister contradicted, flashing her a knowing smile."There are few surprises along the way."
"Oh?"
"Well, the map is not very accurate," Gomez explained lightly."My great grandfather couldn't be bothered with the details. In fact, neither of us bothered to ever make a proper map so somewhere along the way you need to watch out for quicksands."
Morticia raised her eyebrow in bemusement.
"Quicksands?" She asked in confirmation, her mood elevated by the mere prospect.
Gomez nodded and pointed at another place on the map.
"The swamp starts somewhere around here," he informed her."There's also a bottomless pit somewhere around…," he paused and frowned, inspecting the map closer."Here?" He assessed without much certainty."And of course, last but not least, the unmarked abandoned well… I suppose you will know if you fall into it."
"I suppose," Morticia agreed, gracing him with a small smile.
She was trying very hard not to look at him at all because every time she so much as glanced at him she had an overwhelming urge to drag him into the nearest corner and have her way with him there and then.
She just loved the effortless, elegant yet leisurely look he was presenting today, the cream-coloured silk shirt and the burgundy cravat that simply begged to be ripped off him. He was just too delicious for words.
"Granny, are you sure you want to ride with Morticia?" Ophelia asked."This place can be lethal, and so can Morticia's driving."
"Oh, but certainly, Morticia is an excellent driver," Patricia assured before narrowing her eyes before adding, almost as an afterthought," except that one time she crashed my Aston Martin into smithereens," she added and was quite sure she heard Vlad let out a depressed moan.
Morticia let out an outraged huff.
"I was thirteen," she pointed out." And I apologised for that at least three thousand times."
"Still not even close to how much it was worth," her Grandmother insisted. "But I do hope we shall survive this little race," she announced, glancing half-heartedly at the map before turning towards Gomez."Your mother invited us for dinner later, I would hate to be rude and die."
"Dying is never considered rude in this household," Eudora assured, finally coming to join them, smiling kindly at the older woman. "If you all die, we can always have a nice repast in your memory. And what a treat - grilled octopus and goat's liver puree."
"Oh bless, how original, I can't wait to try it," Patricia patted her arm affectionately before turning her gaze to both of her granddaughters."Off we go, then."
"I still don't think it's a good idea for you to ride with Morticia, Granny," Ophelia protested."Papa will not take it kindly if you die in a car crash."
"I'm only slightly offended that you think so unkindly of my driving," Morticia supplied brazenly.
"Your objections are duly noted," her Grandmother nodded at Ophelia, entirely unconcerned."Now, off we go."
Vlad swallowed heavily before turning towards Morticia.
"Drive carefully," he practically begged.
He wasn't sure how he felt about the faint smirk that stretched on her lips. He didn't know how he felt about the look in her eyes either, it was a curious mixture of kind amusement and downright meanness.
"If I ever cared about driving carefully, I would still have my driving license," she explained smoothly.
"They currently only service those models in Europe," he whispered pathetically.
"Oh dear, let's hope it doesn't get scratched, then," she replied in a deadpan manner.
"Tish - "
"Car keys, please," she asked, extending her palm, trying not to laugh when Vlad hesitated and looked at his car wistfully, swallowing audibly.
"Come on, you coward," Ophelia urged, rolling her eyes and she leaned casually against her Ferrari, examining her nails. "I don't have all night for this."
"But - "
Ophelia exhaled impatiently in a highly exaggerated manner.
"Oh, just hotwire this piece of junk and let's go," she told Morticia.
"I have no objections," Morticia shrugged.
"No, no wait!" Vlad stopped them, handing her the car keys in a defeated manner.
"You can hotwire a car?" Gomez asked curiously, quite enticed by the idea.
As if he needed any more enticement attached to this woman, she was already all he thought about.
"Since I was nine," she told him, casting an affectionate glance at the older woman next to her."Granny taught us."
Gomez blinked, taken aback by the information before turning to Ophelia.
"You know how to hotwire a car?"
"Surprised?" Ophelia smirked before informing him matter-of-factly," We all like fast cars. Ready?" She asked Morticia.
"When you are," she nodded as she helped her Grandmother into the Lamborghini. "Watch your head, Granny."
"Don't tell me how to live my life, child," came the older lady's reply as she settled comfortably in the leather seat.
Morticia shook her head good-naturedly before settling in the driver seat.
"You look stressed, old chap," Gomez remarked meanly, lighting his cigar as they watched Eudora raise the checkered racing flag and the sound of engines roared to life.
"She's going to wreck this car, I just know it," Vlad whined.
Gomez thought his cousin looked very much like he was two steps from bursting into tears.
"It's your fault for pissing Ophelia off," Gomez mused, lighting his cigar just as both cars took off, leaving a cloud of dust behind them."You've made your bed, now lie in it."
It was not often that Morticia agreed with Ophelia on anything - at all, but she had to admit that lethal was certainly an apt description for this impromptu racing track, Morticia thought, as she was forced to take another sharp turn because she could swear the tree seemed to appear before them out of nowhere.
"Speed up, dear," Patricia requested insistently. "We're not on a pensioner stroll."
Morticia couldn't help but smile.
"I'm pacing myself," Morticia explained." If I win this race Ophelia's going to make our lives miserable for the next three months," she warned but dutifully changed the gear and pressed harder on the accelerator. "Gomez's especially."
"How very thoughtful of you to take your brother-in-law's well being into consideration," her Grandmother remarked smoothly before adding off-handedly."We'll slow down just before the end, I too want us to have a nice dinner without temper tantrums."
"How very thoughtful of you," Morticia remarked facetiously, taking another sharp turn left, only narrowly missing a falling tree.
This whole estate was a dream. A dream.
What a pity her sister was living it.
"So how are things going with you and the young gentleman back there?" Patricia asked suddenly.
"Can we take a moment to applaud your excellent choice of timing for such conversations," Morticia laughed, trying her utmost to concentrate on not killing both of them on that death trap of a racing track.
"Well, I figured the only way to snoop the confessions out of you would only be possible when you're intensely focused on making sure your dearest Granny survives this car ride."
"What confessions?" Morticia asked lightly, but had an instant feeling that she's not going to like where this was going.
"You and Mr Addams, of course."
"Vlad?" She asked immediately, and stupidly, because who the hell her Grandmother could have had in mind.
"Who else?" Patricia asked pointedly, raising her eyebrows knowingly.
"Granny, if you're trying to make a point, I'm utterly missing it," Morticia replied calmly without missing the beat.
"You're attracted to that man," her Grandmother stated blatantly.
Morticia could feel her piercing gaze on her but she was absolutely damned if her Grandmother thought she was going to coerce her into admitting to anything.
"Who?" She asked, forcing the most perplexed tone to her voice.
"Gomez."
She almost crashed the car, only narrowingly missing hitting the large rock on the narrow passage but it was enough for Ophelia to take the lead.
Well, Patricia Frump was never one to beat around the bush but her blatant accusation, because she had no doubt that that's what it was, without even an ounce of subtlety threw Morticia off her track - literally.
"No, I'm not," she denied immediately, hating the defensive tone her voice acquired but it was quite a challenge to dig herself out of the unwelcome conversation and make sure they didn't drive straight into some bottomless pit.
Although, if her Grandmother continued to insist on this ridiculous conversation, she would surely crash this car into pieces and both of them with it… which currently seemed like a better option than continuing this discussion.
"Where on earth did you even get this preposterous idea?" She asked with such forced casualness, she thought she couldn't sound more guilty if she tried but her mind felt suddenly blank.
She didn't expect Patricia to challenge her so openly and it completely stripped her of any ability to just laugh the whole thing off.
"I'm old, my dear, not blind and certainly not stupid," her Grandmother retorted sternly.
It was impossible that they were so bloody obvious but now wasn't the time to muse over the details. She was desperate to change the topic before she unwittingly buried herself in the deep hole she was so insistently digging for herself at the moment.
"Granny, is this really the best time - "
"Remember who he is and whom he's married to," Patricia told her insistently.
"I have no clue where you even get such ideas," Morticia repeated, shaking her head to show her disbelief and pressed harder on the accelerating pedal, hoping to God that the roar of the engine would be loud enough to silence her Grandmother's accusations.
Apparently not.
"When you're not looking," she said quietly and yet her voice seemed to drown the noise around them. There was such a conviction in her tone, Morticia couldn't help but swallow heavily." He stares at you like he wants to devour you."
Morticia bit the inside of her lip. She was suddenly angry.
Angry that her Grandmother had the audacity to call her out like that. Angry that they were apparently so stupidly transparent with their feelings. Angry because she knew it meant that Patricia Frump would watch them like a hawk and that would make things infinitely harder. Angry that she would be forced to lie to the older lady.
She never lied to her before. Never.
And she would lie, she realized. She would lie shamelessly just to be with him again. She wanted him so much nothing else mattered to her, she could barely restrain herself from touching him and she hated to think what it meant - that her Grandmother saw that in her so clearly, that she was so blatantly obvious.
"It doesn't matter," she finally retorted.
"Morticia -"
"I would never - even if it was true - I would never do that," she lied, her voice so passionately certain that she almost believed it was true.
She would never do that, she would never sleep with her sister's husband. Yes, she found him attractive, but she would never cross that line, it was unthinkable, monstrous and abominable. No, she would never do that.
"Promise me," the older lady insisted."That there's nothing going on between the two of you."
"There's nothing going on," she lied, this time so effortlessly, she was almost stunned how easily this falsehood formed and left her mouth.
And how much it hurt to lie, at the same time.
"I know you're young and…," she paused and swallowed heavily." Please understand, some deeds will haunt you for the rest of your life, Morticia."
"There's nothing going on," she insisted again, her throat burning with lies she wanted to weep with agony but she turned to look at the older lady straight in the eye.
And lied again.
"I promise."
She held her gaze unwaveringly for, what seemed, like an eternity until the loud roar of the accelerating car made her look away to see the red Ferrari furiously pass them by.
Morticia changed the gear and pressed on the accelerator but she could tell it was too late.
She stopped the car abruptly and watched Ophelia jump out of her Ferrari, throwing herself happily in Gomez's arms and kissing him.
She had lost.
Perhaps so much more than this stupid race.
Something was not right.
Well, truth be told, hardly anything was right but he could tell Morticia was upset the moment she stepped out of the car. And it didn't have anything to do with a lost race. He immediately noticed how tense her jaw looked, how she avoided even the slightest interaction with him at the dinner, focusing her attention on everyone else instead.
Which was probably the most sensible way of acting around their families, he knew, but he craved her attention, if only she cast one measly look at him, it would be enough but she didn't. And yet this behaviour didn't make sense since she was acting quite cordial towards him before the race -
"If you want my opinion," Harald Addams mused out loud, releasing a grey cloud of smoke from his cigar."This isn't a good match for you, my boy."
Gomez resisted the almost violent need to roll his eyes as the wave of irritation swept through him at his father's assessment.
The three of them were enjoying post-dinner drinks in the library while his mother stole Morticia and Patricia to show them her conservatory and the new plants she managed to acquire this week. Although, enjoying it was probably a stretch- enduring post-dinner drinks was a more accurate description.
"And why is that, Uncle?" Vlad asked, smiling at Harald as if he found his words amusing, gently swirling his whiskey in the crystal glass.
"Women like her do not make good wives," Harald continued, his voice acquiring the sage tone that always grated on Gomez's nerves.
The tone was an unmistakable signal that his father was about to sprout his know-it-all wisdom and almost, in his own opinion, divine guidance because, of course, his father knew best what was good for everyone. It was an only small mercy that, in this case, it wasn't directed at Gomez.
Although, Vlad had an unfortunate luck to be almost as frequent a recipient of Harald Addams unasked counselling as Gomez, ever since Vlad's own father dropped dead in the midst of the family Christmas dinner. Gomez was ten at the time, and Vlad a year older and Harald took upon himself the fatherly role to his sister's children, Vlad in particular since the rest of Vlad's siblings were girls, three of them, and his father knew nothing of raising little girls.
Not that he knew anything about raising children in the first place, in Gomez's opinion.
"Modern women," his father carried on, his tone openly condescending." They are never happy. Trust me when I tell you that this girl," he added, pointing with his cigar in the vague direction of the conservatory."Will make you miserable."
"With all due respect, Uncle," Vlad interjected, still forcing a respectful smile on his face but Gomez could tell Harald's insinuations annoyed him as well." You barely know Morticia. She's smart and funny, she's very beautiful - "
His father snorted and looked at Vlad like he was the most naive creature in the entire universe.
"Selfish and spoiled," Harald assessed firmly."That's what she is. Gallivanting around the world on her own, doing God knows what with devil knows whom. Do you think a woman like that will create you a good home, or give you children? No, she's not interested in any of that."
"How do you know?" Gomez hissed, wrapping his fingers around his drink so tightly he was sure the elaborate crystal would crash any second."You know absolutely nothing about her, stop acting like you know what she wants."
"Oh, and I suppose you do?" His father asked mockingly, leaning back comfortably in the old Queen Anne's chair.
"Just say you don't like her because she doesn't clap at everything you say," he told him viciously but he just couldn't help himself. He could not sit there and listen to his father besmirching Morticia.
"She's a fierce, opinionated little thing," Harald chuckled, disregarding his tone." I give her that but she's not good material for a wife or, God forbid, a mother. She's a woman one takes for a lover, a pleasant pastime - "
Gomez exhaled loudly and put his drink away firmly on the coffee table, spilling some on the sleek surface and stood up.
"I'm really not going to listen to this absurd - "
Harald only snorted derisively, drowning his own drink in one go.
"By all means stand up and leave, don't forget to slam the door - that's what you do best - "
"Oh, for God sake -," Gomez muttered and moved towards the door with the intention to do exactly as his father predicted but he didn't care.
He wasn't going to sit here and listen to this nonsense.
"Gomez, wait," Vlad darted after him and grabbed his arm before he could reach the door.
"Oh, let him go, he will come back when he finishes acting like an unruly toddler," Harald supplied, his voice already acquiring a dangerous note.
"Don't - calm the hell down, both of you," Vlad tried to placate, placing his hands on Gomez's shoulders because his cousin looked like he was about to pounce.
"Come on, we have guests, let's not do this, let's just… change the subject," he urged him."Come on, sit down."
Gomez swallowed heavily and nodded at him.
"I can't," he whispered."I'm going to have a walk."
"How about all the way to the bloody Bermuda Triangle," Harald supplied, pouring himself another drink."Might do you some good."
Vlad watched a wave of guilt flash across his cousin's face as he let out an exasperated curse, and then took a deep tired breath.
"Excuse me to our guests, please," Gomez requested."I'm sorry but I really need some air."
"Gomez - "his father barked but he ignored him.
He needed to get away. He felt like he couldn't breathe.
He just reached the front door when suddenly he turned abruptly and made his way up the stairs, straight to the all too familiar room in the attic.
Straight to the unwelcome memories, and guilt.
On any other day, Ophelia Addams would consider spending an evening with her mother-in-law less than ideal. Adding to that her sister and her Grandmother she'd deem nothing but torturous.
And yet, she had to admit she was having a surprisingly pleasant time. Winning the race certainly left her in a very cheerful mood, and she was quite adamant that nothing and no one would spoil that for her, so she didn't even protest when Eudora proposed that the ladies were to have their drinks in the cosiness of the conservatory - although, Ophelia had no idea where did she get the idea that this vegetable graveyard, or whatever the hell she was growing here, was anything near cosy. But she gave up on trying to understand Eudora Addams about three seconds after she moved into the Addams Manor. And yet, even that didn't bother Ophelia tonight.
Even Morticia managed to be perfectly polite towards Harlad and didn't sprout her philosophies, allowing Harald to rant freely about the good old days and whatever. Too bad her friends couldn't be here, which was, of course, a deliberate act on her part because Opehalia wasn't going to invite any of her friends over until she was sure she'd just dazzle them with the splendour of changes she was going to make to the Addams Estate.
That, or ideally, dazzle them with her new, shiny and absurdly expensive mansion she was inclined to convince Gomez to buy for them, and soon.
"Granny, you're cheating," Ophelia pointed at the chessboard. "Again."
"How dare you accuse an old lady of cheating?" Her Grandmother narrowed her eyes at her.
"I know your Bishop was nowhere near my Queen so what do you call it?"
"Strategic disarrangement," Patricia offered lightly.
"Fancy names don't change the fact that you're simply cheating," Ophelia shook her head, but smiled at her nonetheless.
"Oh, Patricia," Eudora laughed."You'd make an excellent Addams."
"Gomez said the same thing, actually," Patricia smiled at her, taking a sip of her steaming cocktail." This is an interesting plant," she observed, pointing her head at the pot with a small, dark green plant in it that was apparently moving on its own accord.
"Oh, it is indeed, it's an African Strangler," Eudora explained, caressing the plant gently."She's still a baby, they grow up to six feet tall. They are extremely rare and also forbidden to import into the country but I had someone smuggle them for me."
"Sweet," Ophelia muttered to herself.
Why would anyone risk criminal charges to import something that looked basically like freaky salad greens, was beyond her but she long decided to just not get involved in anything her mother-in-law was up to. She was simply too weird for words. Hence, why it did not surprise Ophelia in the slightest that Morticia got along with Eudora so well - took one weirdo to know one weirdo.
"It's so adorable," Morticia couldn't help but coo at the plant."Hello, darling. Awww, look at those cute teeth."
"It's yours if you want it," Eudora offered, smiling at the young woman's enthusiasm.
"Really?"
"I must warn you, though, they do require a lot of attention," she said, placing the pot in Morticia's hands.
"How so?"
"They are demanding almost like little babies," she explained."You need to feed them at least three times a day and prune them very regularly, their leaves are prone to like moist environments, so make sure to spray her with water every day."
"I will take utmost care of her," Morticia promised, cradling the pot in her arms in a motherly fashion.
"Well then, Cleopatra, meet your new mother," Eudora told the plant and Cleopatra snapped her jaws at her."Manners dear."
"My dear, isn't it too early for the Halloween decorations?" Patricia asked suddenly.
"What Halloween decorations?" Eudora frowned in confusion.
"The cauldron in the corner," the older lady explained."Isn't that for decoration?"
"Oh, that," Eudora laughed."That's for my potions, the one I'm brewing now requires freshly cut leaves, and when I say freshly I mean they need to be put to boil immediately, so I had Lurch bring the cauldron upstairs," she explained.
"What on earth, Eudora," Ophelia laughed."You make it sound like you're a witch," she commented before moving one of her pieces on the chessboard.
"A witch?" Her mother-in-law repeated, her tone mildly amused."Well, wouldn't that be something."
"But haven't you mentioned you were in a coven?" Morticia asked curiously.
Didn't Gomez say to her that his mother was a witch? She was sure he did, although at this point the only thing she was certain of was being kissed by him against the tomb, everything else was a blur.
"Morticia, don't be ridiculous," Ophelia rolled her eyes." I think you've read too many fantasy books. Granny, your turn."
"I'm pretty sure I remember you saying "coven" when you were giving me a tour of the graveyard," Morticia insisted.
"Oh, that's just a name for our knitting club," Eudora deadpanned."We also do embroidery and poetry nights."
Morticia frowned in confusion. Well, wasn't that a disappointment.
"I'm jesting, my dear," Eudora laughed, noticing Morticia's almost crestfallen expression."I come from a long line of witches," Eudora admitted and watched both, Patricia and Ophelia, turned towards her in bemusement.
"Are you serious?" Ophelia muttered in disbelief.
Fuck, if she's ever going to invite anyone to this place now, with Eudora sprouting with nonsense. Her morbid sense of humour was one thing, but now apparently she's going bonkers thinking she's a witch. Just splendid. She wasn't even that old to be going senile. She'd definitely have to convince Gomez to buy that mansion as soon as possible.
"My grandmother, Elvira Yasbel Catalina Gomez was quite a famous witch in her days," Eudora continued." They even named a school after her in the village I came from. I always promised myself I'd name my daughter after her, but since I didn't have one, I chose Gomez."
"I was wondering where the idea for his name came from," Morticia admitted, smiling at her fondly.
"No magic talent came with the name, though," Eudora sighed in a faux regret."Only his mad Castilian temper."
"I can't believe what I'm hearing," Ophelia muttered, more to herself than to her Grandmother, who also looked too stunned to offer any comment.
"I used to pretend I was a witch when I was a child," Morticia admitted, gently caressing Cleopara's small leaves with her fingertips.
"Do you have witches in the family?"
"Goodness no," Morticia laughed at the idea.
"Patricia certainly is one of a kind, though," Eudora commented, smiling at the older lady.
"That she is," Morticia smiled affectionately.
Patricia offered them a somewhat subdued smile.
"Not in any supernatural way, I can assure you," she replied, clearing her throat gently, which made Morticia frown slightly.
She thought her Grandmother looked rather unsettled, whether it had anything to do with their conversation, she couldn't tell but before she could even ponder on the thought any further, there was a loud commotion in the hall that made them all turn their heads towards the noise.
"There you are!" Vlad exclaimed, popping his head to the conservatory."I have been looking all over the Manor for you. I was afraid you were eaten by crocodiles."
"Why were you looking for her?" Eudora asked in surprise."I've told you we'll be in the conservatory."
"Yeah...I forgot about that."
"Why would I be eaten by crocodiles?" Morticia asked.
"Who knows, I thought maybe you wandered down to the dungeons and got eaten by Joseph and Adolf."
"Joseph and Adolf?"
"Aunt Eudora's pet crocodiles," he explained."They live in the dungeon - anyway," he turned towards Eudora."May I steal you for a second?"
Eudora cast a worried look towards her nephew before replying slowly.
"Yes, of course," she said."Please excuse me for a moment."
"What's that about?" Ophelia frowned as she watched Vlad and Eudora leave the conservatory.
"I tell you what's that about," Patricia supplied conspirational."I can tell a family dispute when I see one."
"Oh, not those two again," Ophelia sighed, tilting her head back in an exasperated manner."It's like they can't help themselves."
"Who?" Patricia asked. "Vlad and Gomez?"
Morticia wisely decided not to react to the question.
"What? No," Ophelias frowned, as if her Grandmother uttered the most ridiculous thing on the planet."Harald and Gomez, they always fight."
"What do they fight about?"
"Granny, hell if I know, or care for that matter," she retorted."I can't be bothered with their drama, but let me tell you it's just another reason we should get our own place."
"You're really a good sport about losing the race," Ophelia supplied smoothly but her manner had an affectionate tone to it, surprisingly so, as she walked Morticia and their Grandmother to the car.
"It was a nice evening," Ophelia observed, smoothing her blond hair behind her ears before adding in a mildly amused tone, "sans the argument, but Mama would be proud to know it wasn't you and me this time. I had a good time."
Morticia couldn't help but smile at her assessment.
"It was nice," she agreed but couldn't help but cast a worried glance towards the Manor.
She didn't know what it was all about but Gomez suddenly seemed to have disappeared, God knows where, and Harald looked like he swallowed a cup of needles and so it was clear to everyone it was time to say goodnight. Patricia graciously feigned fatigue after such an exciting evening, to facilitate the tactful exit.
"Are you going to show up on that prep meeting Papa's campaign manager is raving about?" Ophelia asked just as Lurch opened the car door for Morticia.
"I don't know, I'm ignoring his phone calls," she replied.
"Hmmm, yeah, he's a bit of annoying little twat."
"That's one way to call him," she agreed.
"Anyway, I guess we'll see each other then," Ophelia said, bending over to peek into the car, offering her Grandmother a warm smile."Good night, Granny, hope it was as much fun for you as it was for me."
"It was a blast," the older lady deadpanned."Good night, my dear."
There was a distinct sound of someone clearing their throat and both ladies turned to see Vlad standing somewhat tensely behind them.
"Can I have a moment?" He asked Morticia.
She nodded and allowed him to walk her a safe distance from the car to grant them some privacy.
"I'm sorry I can't drive you back to your apartment, there's this, ehm, family thing that's a bit... complicated," he explained somewhat laconically, casting a brief look towards the Manor.
"It's alright," she smiled at him." Is everything okay, though?"
"Yeah, don't worry about it, I just want to stay and make sure things won't escalate into something… uncontrollable," he continued, sighing tiredly but then smiled at her reassuringly.
She nodded and offered him a gentle smile. It was curious to see such a caring side of him, a far cry from the flamboyant dandy attitude he usually displayed and for the first time she felt a wave of guilt towards him. She would prefer if he were a careless dandy.
It would be easier if he were a careless dandy.
"You're a good man, Vlad," she found herself saying, and leaned closer, placing a warm kiss on his cheek but before she could take a step back, she felt his arm around her waist.
"You know, it's a tradition in the Addams clan to marry a witch," he whispered, cradling her hand in his.
She didn't reply, not sure if she was comfortable with where he was heading with it, but she didn't make a move to disentangle herself from his embrace either.
"Not always, obviously," he continued softly." Gomez didn't marry one. He doesn't care much for traditions."
"Vlad -"
"And I don't care very much for traditions, either," he whispered, cupping her cheek softly and she felt his lips press against hers.
It was brief and soft, and over before she could voice any protests. Except, at that moment, she wasn't sure she wanted to voice any.
She wasn't sure of anything anymore, besides the fact that her life was becoming increasingly complicated and she wasn't sure how to navigate it.
"Good night, Morticia," he said softly against her lips.
"Good night," she replied, finally pushing him gently away.
She took one last look at the mansion, and then she saw it - a faint movement near the west wing. Almost instantly, she was met with a pair of cold, half-lidded eyes and felt her heart sink.
"Okay, so when you've said let's go shopping I thought you meant clothes," Debbie complained, stretching her legs in front of her as she tried to make herself comfortable in the faux leather seat.
"I don't buy my clothes in stores, they are tailor-made," Morticia replied, focusing on removing lettuce from her burger."Why didn't you tell me this thing comes with vegetables?"
They stopped at Debbie's favourite diner near their apartment building, Lucy's Lush Dining, to have a late lunch after nearly five hours of shopping and Debbie complained that if she wasn't fed within ten minutes, someone was going to die. And as enticing as the prospect was, Morticia had neither time nor energy to come up with alibis today.
Why does everything have to come with a salad, though? Do those people even know what all those vitamins and minerals would do to her pallor?
"It's a cheeseburger, what did you expect?"
"Nothing, I never had a cheeseburger in my life," Morticia explained."I'm only trying this because you said this food will clog our veins. Also, this bread bun is so soft, it's utterly unappetizing, I think I will just eat the meat."
"I have no words for you," Debbie muttered." Except, that you should give Prada a chance," she insisted, sinking her teeth into her juicy burger.
"They don't have anything I like," Morticia countered, still busy taking her burger apart." Well, except bags I suppose."
"Yes, this eternal widow style is rather hard to come by," Debbie commented with a blatant smirk.
"You see my point," Morticia retorted in a deadpan manner.
"Although, may I just say that Chanel has an excellent funeral appropriate collection," Debbie pointed out."Speaking from experience as a professional widow. Okay so, continue, what happened with you and this Vlad fellow."
Morticia sighed heavily, abandoning her meal altogether.
"I don't know," she admitted."I shouldn't have let him kiss me but…"
"But what?" Debbie prompted after Morticia's prolonged pause.
"He was so...kind, and it was," she paused again and shrugged."He was sweet, and I guess I didn't have the heart to push him away."
Debbie looked at her in disbelief.
"You disgust me," she said, making a face."You are literally making me nauseous."
"It's pathetic," Morticia admitted, picking her utensils again.
Never, until now, did Debbie see anyone trying to eat a burger and fries with a knife and fork.
"I like him, though… just not in the way he prefers."
"And of course, he underfucked you - "
"And now he started mentioning marriage and," she let out an exasperated groan and rested her head on the pillows of her hand."I don't know what to do."
"Break up with him," Debbie offered simply.
"It's a bit complicated," Morticia replied.
"How is that even remotely complicated?" Debbie asked, dipping her french fries into the chilli sauce and popped one into her mouth."Just say - sweet cheeks, you and me? Was never meant to be. Ciao! Or kill him, one of the two."
"If it only was that simple."
"Then what are you planning to do? Marry him and end up underfucked for the rest of your life?" She asked and Morticia couldn't help but laugh but Debbie narrowed her eyes at her suspiciously."I have a feeling you're hiding something."
"I'm not hiding anything," Morticia replied promptly, rolling her eyes for good measure.
"No, no, you're definitely up to something, " Debbie insisted."Your behaviour has been highly suspicious for weeks now. You're furtive and evasive. You," she pointed at her friend accusingly."Are most definitely hiding something."
"Furtive?" Morticia raised her brow in amusement.
"It was a word of the day in my pocket diary," Debbie explained smugly.
"I'm not furtive - "
"Liar," Debbie smirked but, to Morticia's relief, didn't pursue the topic any further.
For the love of God, was she the worst liar in history or were Debbie and her Grandmother just too terribly perceptive?
It was definitely becoming too complicated, even with the issue of her Grandmother calling her out on her attraction to Gomez aside, it bothered her more that Gomez saw her and Vlad and probably took everything out of context and they were now back to square one. What was she to do now? Wait for some family dinner for a chance to meet him and explain to him that it was not what it looked like? Assuming, she will even have a chance to speak to him at all.
It's like the whole universe was trying to tell her this affair was a bad idea.
Well, the universe could go to hell. She didn't need to be told it was a horribly bad idea.
She was well aware of that.
"Let's go home," Morticia proposed, deliberately and blatantly changing the subject." I don't want this to go bad," she added, lifting a bag with meat cuts in it.
Debbie made a face of utter disgust and spit her half-eaten fry into her tissue.
"The fuck is that?" She groaned.
"Zebra meat," Morticia explained cheerfully."Well, zebra liver to be precise."
"I'm not eating that," her friend protested, practically turning a lovely shade of green
"This is not for us to eat," Morticia retorted patiently.
"What is it for then?"
"Plant food," she continued."Mrs Addams gifted me an African Stranger, it feeds on meat."
Debbie stared at her for a whole minute without so much as a blink.
"You're going to cook... for a plant?"
"Yes."
"You never even cook for us," Debbie pointed out."Can you even cook?"
"I can make a cup of tea," she retorted.
"That's not cooking,"
"You have to boil the water for it," Morticia insisted."Besides, how hard can cooking be?"
"I've killed two husbands with my cooking alone."
Morticia opened her mouth to reply but no sound came. She blinked, silently considering Debbie's point.
"Fine," she conceded."I will buy a cookbook to go with it. Let's go."
"I really don't like where this is going," Debbie sighed as they were entering the elevator in their apartment building.''And besides, I thought we've agreed that you're not going to buy any more plants. The apartment looks like a jungle as it is."
"Oh, please," Morticia turned towards her."It's just a tiny wee plant, you won't even notice it's there. And I didn't buy it, it was a gift - I couldn't say no."
"It's a jungle," Debbie insisted."God, I'm so tired."
"Oh, don't be dramatic," Morticia laughed, opening the door to the apartment while balancing the paper shopping bag in her arms." I thought we could go out for drinks later," she added, depositing the bags on the kitchen counter.
"Hmmm, I can't, I need to go to sleep early, I have work tomorrow," Debbie sighed in disappointment.
Morticia turned sharply towards her, frowning, she was quite sure she misheard her.
"You have what tomorrow?"
"I got a job as a secretary," Debbie revealed, flopping heavily on the sofa.
Morticia opened her mouth in astonishment.
"That...sounds dreadful," she commented.
"It is," Debbie agreed."But it's for the surgeon, widower. Future Mr Debbie number 3..or 4, I can't keep track of them all."
"Ah, I see," she smiled and then noticed the colourful bouquet of flowers on the table."Speaking of dreadful, what on earth is that doing in my apartment?"
"Oh yeah, I forgot to put them in the trash, they delivered it today, obviously to the wrong address, morons," Debbie said. "There's literally a ticket attached to it with the address and room number, what kind of idiots do they employ at that delivery company?"
Morticia felt her heart skip a beat when she walked slowly towards the coffee table and leaned over the neatly presented bouquet, took the small paper attached to it, in between her fingers and read the address, realizing instantly what it was and her lips stretched into a small, knowing smile.
He didn't bother putting the light on in the vast living room of the suite he booked, save for the small table lamp as he stood by the tall window, half-heartedly admiring the view of Manhattan at night, slowly smoking his cigar - his third now. The impressive line of skyscrapers with windows illuminated by electric lights - office workers still pouring over their desks despite the late hour but then, Manhattan never slept. And he couldn't care less about the view anyway.
He could not get the image of them out of his head. He could not stop thinking about her. About them. Together.
What did it mean? Besides the obvious, that is. Surely, she wasn't planning to continue her relationship with Vlad. But what if she was? And what did it mean for them?
He supposed there was only one way to find out.
Would she come? Well, he reckoned if she didn't, he would have his answer.
What did the hell change between the night at the club and yesterday's evening? It was impossible that mere few nights ago they had practically devoured each other in the corner of a nightclub full of people and now she was kissing Vlad? It didn't make sense.
He didn't know what to make of it. He dreaded to think what it meant and, at the same time, he could think of nothing else, the uncertainty of it was agonising.
His heart started racing the moment he heard the handle in the door turn gently.
She smiled at him knowingly the moment their eyes met and he breathed out audibly in relief.
"Indulging in an extramarital affair in a hotel room," she mused out loud as she moved slowly towards him, adding teasingly."How cheap and predictable."
He couldn't wait, he met her halfway, allowing the intoxicating scent of her perfumes to surround his senses.
"I will be sure to compensate you for the unfavourable surroundings," he quipped, framing her face with his hands and kissing her, long and hard.
All his doubts seemed to have evaporated at the sight of her. Or maybe he no longer cared. As long as he could feel those lips against his. He would take anything she was willing to give him as long as he had this.
And this - was deliberate and premeditated. They could no longer blame it on the heat of the moment, they were consciously and knowingly stepping through the threshold of this affair.
Morticia moaned audibly the moment he pressed his lips on her, immediately fisting her hands into the collar of his black shirt. She wanted him so much it made her almost delirious with the need for him.
She wanted him so much she was willing to risk whatever prospective scandal was on their way.
Except, there was not going to be any scandal. She would end this affair before it got out of hand.
She didn't want to think about that now, though, she didn't want to think about anything but him.
She pushed his jacket off his shoulders, letting it fall listlessly on the polished floor, and inhaled sharply, tilting her head to the side when his lips pressed against the column of her neck, placing delicious kisses on the marble skin making her almost lightheaded, the warm tingling feeling already travelling towards her groin.
She felt him move to stand behind her, pushing her long hair over her shoulder.
"God, this dress," he murmured against the back of her neck and she couldn't help the shiver of anticipation run down her spine.
She felt him slowly undo the buttons of her dress, one by one following the trail with hot kisses. She tugged impatiently at the sleeves of her dress.
"No," he stopped her."Let me… I want to… savour it," he grunted silkily, pushing the material of her dress down to her waist, capturing her breast into his hands and squeezed - hard, delighting in her moan of pleasure.
She closed her eyes and tilted her head against his shoulder when he brushed his lips just behind her ear and his fingers caressed her hard nipples until she felt a flash of the cold metal brush against the underside of her breasts and her eyes snapped open.
"Take it off," she said and he knew immediately what she was referring to, sliding the metal band off his finger and carefully depositing it on her small table behind the sofa.
He turned towards her again, feasting his eyes with the image of her, her skin flushed, red lips - not from the lipstick but his relentless kisses and approached her in a slow, purposeful, almost predatory manner.
"I want to taste," he whispered next to her ear."Every...delightful… inch of you."
He pressed his fingers into the material around her hips and pushed it down, allowing the dress to pool around her feet and watched her gracefully step out of it.
He admired her, taking in the image of her scantily clad only in her lace black panties and matching suspenders, giving their way to the enticing black nylon stockings before his gaze rested on her stiletto heels.
"Like what you see?" She asked confidently, a small, almost arrogant smirk playing on her lips.
"You're a goddess," he whispered, resting his hands on the curve of her hips." I want to make you weep with pleasure," he breathed out before his lips descended in her nipple and his hands moved to squeeze the firm flesh of her ass.
She felt her head spin at the sensation and moaned ardently, arching against him, fisting her hands into his pomaded hair before pulling his head back and claiming his lips into a violent kiss, making him howl with the desire for her.
She barely remembered how they got into the bedroom, she was so focused on the sensation of his body against hers that she only realized they were in the bedroom when she felt the soft sheets under her naked back.
He crawled over her, shedding his shirt and undervest in the process before capturing her lips into another hot, wet kiss.
She couldn't help but run her palms over the taut muscles of his chest and abdomen. She just couldn't stop touching him. She has never seen a man so rivetingly attractive, she longed to taste him.
"I want you so much," she whispered against his lips, capturing his nipples in between her fingers, and squeezed it - hard, eliciting a loud moan out of him.
She kissed him then, long and hard as she moved her hands to his belt buckle and undone it in a few swift moves, disrobing him completely.
She watched him kneel back on the bed and she lifted her hips as she hooked her fingers into the lace of her panties, sliding them slowly down her long legs and he followed the movement with his eyes, completely transfixed until she nudged the black lace off the bed and slid her pedicured foot up to his thigh and near his groin.
He grabbed her ankle and raised it to his lips, placing an array of wet kisses along her enticing calf as she leaned back on her elbows and watched him travel the length of her thigh with his lips, hooking both of her legs over his broad shoulders before he flicked his tongue over her aching clit and was rewarded with a loud moan as she arched against him, wrapping her fingers into the silk bed sheets.
It felt so good. So insanely good she couldn't help when her lips parted in a reverent moan, feeling the warm sensation already spreading at her core.
"Harder," she urged and then cried out as he circled her clit with his tongue and then put his two fingers inside her, curling them gently in a come hither motion."Oh God, yes, a bit higher...mmmm, yes... oh - fuck-"
She arched against him, the white heat spreading through her blissfully as she pressed her hips against him and he continued to caress her relentlessly with his lips and tongue until she grabbed at his hair and pulled at it insistently.
She wanted to feel him inside of her, she would go mad if she didn't.
He crawled over her, claiming her lips in a passionate kiss and she could taste herself on his tongue, making her almost dizzy with desire. She reached in between then, wrapping her hand around his length and he broke the kiss with a loud hiss.
He was unbearably hard.
She pressed the tip of his cock against her clit, spreading the slick wetness and heard her name whispered in a strangled gasp as she guided him inside her.
He groaned and lifted her hips, pushing his whole length inside her, moaning at the silk tightness around him.
"You feel...so...good," he moaned, moving into her aggressively.
She let out a breathy gasp at the force of his thrusts, as she wrapped her legs around his ribs, her grip on reality rapidly slipping away. She pressed her fingers into his back and moved her tongue along his neck, biting into the soft skin of his earlobe eliciting a low moan out of him.
She has never felt like this, never desired anyone so violently and so completely. She couldn't focus on anything but him, his soft lips, his tongue duelling with hers, the sinful pleasure of him.
She kissed him again and he groaned into her mouth, curling his fingers under her thigh, pushing in higher as he pounded into her so aggressively she almost had trouble keeping up with his pace. She lifted her knees, breaking their kiss and arched her back as heard him groan tensely, burying his head into her shoulder.
She wasn't prepared for the climax that crashed through her like lightning, the pleasure so intense she cried out loudly, throwing her head back and reached her arms above her head, curling her hand around the wooden bar of the bed, wrapping her legs tightly around his waist as he slammed into her and heard him swore, his body going tense against hers.
He howled, deep in his throat, and shuddered, breathing out heavily before collapsing on top of her.
She could feel his rapid heartbeat against her own as she slipped her fingers into his hair and gave it a slight tug until he lifted his head off her shoulder to look at her and she kissed him, his furious heartbeat pounding against hers.
"I have never come this hard in my life," she breathed out contentedly against his lips, nibbling at the soft flesh.
She almost laughed when he looked at her smugly... before his lips curled into the most arrogant smirk she has ever seen.
"It's getting late," she said after casting a glance at the bedside clock.
Late was an understatement since it was well past two o'clock. She could hardly believe they had spent all those hours making love, it seemed insane that they could simply not get enough of each other but even now, laying in his arms she could not resist touching him, running her hand gently against his ribs.
They seem to be touching each other all the time.
He murmured non-committaly, pressing her closer to himself before reaching towards the bedside table and unceremoniously pushing the clock to the floor.
She couldn't help but laugh softly.
"Destroying the clock is not going to stop time, " she teased, lifting herself gently from his chest.
"Yes it is," he insisted cheekily, pulling her down for a kiss.
He didn't want to think about the time. He wanted to think only about here and now, with her.
"We can't spend the night here," she pointed out.
"I need to see you again tomorrow," he insisted."I can't get enough of you."
"We need to be careful, Gomez," she admonished lightly but surrendered to his kisses nonetheless, the warm, tingling feeling already spreading through her groin anew.
"We will be," he assured, resting his hand at the curve of her hip, squeezing the supple flesh."But I can't wait weeks again, even hours seem too long."
"Where?" She asked.
He smiled at her.
"There's a small boutique hotel near the King's Theatre, are you familiar with the area?"
"I can't say I am," she shook her head.
"I will write you the address, I will book us a room there."
"I will find it, what time?"
"Around four? I have a few meetings in the morning in the city, it will give us a few hours," he proposed, sliding his hand up her ribs and under her breast.
She nodded, and closed her eyes, surrendering to his caresses. She was inclined to agree to anything he wanted as his lips closed around her hard nipple, when he slid his warm hand in between her legs, she couldn't even remember what on earth they were even talking about.
It was nearing half-past three in the morning when Eudora Addams heard the front door open and her son walked in, closing the door behind him gently, obviously mindful of alerting anyone to his presence before he turned and almost jumped out of his skin at the sight of her.
"Mama," he greeted, letting out a strangled breath."What are you doing up so late?"
"Could have asked you the same question," she replied, taking into his slightly dishevelled appearance.
She was sure he had a cravat this morning before he left.
"I've met a few old friends in the city," he lied smoothly."We've lost track of time."
"Old friends?" She inquired, narrowing her eyes at him suspiciously.
"Chaps from the university."
He could see her shoulders relax visibly and had to restrain himself from breathing out in relief as well.
"Oh, that's nice, you could have called though," she reprimanded gently.
"I only meant to stay for a drink or two, I didn't even notice it was so late."
"Ophelia was worried."
He pressed his lips together and nodded at her.
"You're right, I haven't thought of that to be honest," he admitted.
"Well, you have a wife now, darling, you need to be more considerate," Eudora pointed out, still watching him somewhat warily.
"I'll keep that in mind," he smiled at her."Anyway, it's late and I'm quite tired, Mama."
She nodded at him understandingly.
"Goodnight, dear."
She watched him ascent the stairs in a brisk manner.
"Gomez," she called after him.
He turned towards her. He didn't look tired to her at all, quite the opposite, his body seemed to radiate with energy.
"Is everything alright?" She asked and watched his lips curl into a joyful grin.
She couldn't remember the last time he smiled like that.
"Never better, Mama."
A/N: Thank you for reading!