am-books Chapter 74: Mad Scientist
Chapter 74: Mad Scientist
Chapter 74: Mad Scientist
As I stare at my overstuffed suitcase, trying to cram in one last t-shirt, Erica lounges on our bed, scrolling through her phone. We’re packing for a weekend getaway to Brooke’s beach house in Rhode Island, and I’m already stressing about forgetting something important.
“Wait, so in your world, Shinji came on Asuka?” Erica suddenly pipes up, her blue eyes wide with disbelief.
Jesus take’s the wheel in my mind. “Did you know Asuka is a Chargers fan.”
Erica sigh’s with annoyance. “Yeah, yeah. Bolt up or whatever.”
(A/n: I am not a Chargers fan.)
She waives her hand dismissively. “Back to the cum.” She refocuses my thoughts.
I nod. “Yeah, it was super problematic. The whole scene was pretty messed up.”
Erica lets out a low whistle, her blonde ponytail swishing as she shakes her head. “Damn, that’s so hot. Any girl would love that in this world. Or most would I think.” She pauses for a moment and collects her thoughts. “In this world, it’s way different. Asuka fingerblasted herself and squirted all over Shinji while he was at the hospital.”
I blink, trying to process this information. “That... actually makes sense, given how things work here.”
Erica grins, her teeth flashing white against her full lips. “Hell yeah, it does. Our Asuka’s a total badass. She knows what she wants and goes for it. Granted, in hindsight, everyone said what she did was sexual assault.”
I can’t help but chuckle, thinking about how different yet similar our worlds are. It’s been months since I arrived here, but the little surprises never seem to stop.
“So, you packed your swimsuit yet?” Erica asks, eyeing my suitcase skeptically. “Or are you planning on skinny dipping?”
I feel my face heat up. “Uh, yeah, it’s in there somewhere.” I frown, thinking about how it might not be warm enough to go swimming, though. In my world, April could be a little cold.
“Are you thinking about Riley again?” she asks, her blue eyes narrowing slightly.
I shrug, aiming for nonchalance. “No. It’s been over a month. I’m over it.”
Erica raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. She saunters over, her hips swaying hypnotically. “You sure about that, Jason?”
As she looms over me, I’m hit with a vivid flashback, Riley’s wide, terrified eyes, the sickening crunch as Erica’s knife connected. I shake my head, banishing the image.
“Seriously, I’m fine,” I insist. “Just excited for the beach trip.”
Erica’s hand cups my chin, forcing me to meet her gaze. Her touch is gentle, but there’s steel beneath it. “You know I won’t ever let anyone take you away from me, right?”
I nod arousal coursing through me. “I know, baby. I mean... Mommy.”
Erica’s eyes light up at the term, and she rewards me with a deep, possessive kiss that leaves me breathless. When she pulls away, there’s a dangerous glint in her eye.
“Good boy,” she purrs. “Now finish packing. I want to get on the road before traffic gets bad.”
I grab my bag, hefting it off the bed with a grunt. “Ready,” I announce, trying to inject some enthusiasm into my voice.
Erica nods approvingly, her blonde ponytail swishing as she turns. “Let’s roll, babe.”
We make our way to the living room, where a cacophony of excited chatter greets us. Tara, Nikki, and Justine are sprawled across the plush leather sofas, surrounded by a small mountain of beach gear.
Tara’s electric blue hair streaks catch the light as she bounces up, grinning from ear to ear. “Finally! I thought you two lovebirds were gonna be at it all day.”
I feel annoyed, but Erica just smirks. “Patience, Tara. Good things come to those who wait.”
Nikki snorts, adjusting her baseball cap. “Yeah, well, some of us have been waiting long enough. I’m ready to hit the waves.”
Justine, ever the voice of reason, pipes up from her perch on the armrest. “First, we have to survive the drive. Did anyone remember to pack snacks?”
Erica, seemingly ignoring Justine, steps forward, her presence immediately commanding the room’s attention. “Alright, ladies,” she announces, her voice carrying that edge of authority that never fails to send a shiver down my spine. “Is everyone ready to roll out?”
A chorus of enthusiastic “Yes!” fills the air.
As we step outside, the late afternoon sun bathes everything in a golden glow. I squint, momentarily blinded, before my eyes adjust to reveal a sleek, midnight-black limousine parked in the driveway. The Knight family crest gleams on the door, a not-so-subtle reminder of Erica’s status.
“Whoa,” I breathe, unable to hide my awe. “That’s... something else.”
Amelia, the Knight family’s ever-present maid, is efficiently loading our bags into the cavernous trunk. Her crisp uniform looks immaculate, nor a hair out of place in her neat bun.
The sound of a cork popping echoes through the limo as Tara eagerly opens the first bottle. The rich aroma of red wine fills the air.
As Erica and I continue our heated makeout session, I’m vaguely aware of Nikki and Justine launching into an animated discussion.
“I’m telling you, Yakub had to have been hung,” Nikki insists, gesticulating wildly with her wine glass. “You don’t create a whole race of people without some serious BDE.”
Justine scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Please. If anything, Yakub probably had a chode. It would explain all the overcompensating.”
“What? No way!” Nikki protests. “The dude was a genius. Geniuses always pack heat.”
“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” Justine retorts, her voice stern. “Intelligence has nothing to do with dick size. Besides, have you seen how short he was in all the depictions? And his five heads? Definitely chode territory.”
Their ridiculous argument fades into the background as I lose myself in Erica’s kiss. Her lips are soft yet demanding, her tongue exploring my mouth with a possessiveness that makes my head spin. I feel her hand tighten on the back of my neck, pulling me even closer.
From the corner of my eye, I notice Tara carefully placing our wine glasses in the cup holders beside us. She lingers a moment too long, her gaze fixed on the way Erica’s lips move against mine. A small sigh escapes her as she mutters, “Damn, I wish I could’ve brought Louis along. But no, he’s too busy with his two girlfriends.”
Her words barely register as Erica’s grip on me intensifies. She pulls me flush against her body, the heat between us growing more intense by the second. I’m vaguely aware of Tara’s eyes still on us, a mix of envy and admiration in her gaze.
“Get a room, you two!” Nikki calls out, momentarily distracted from her Yakub debate.
Erica breaks the kiss just long enough to shoot Nikki a wicked grin. “We’ve got a whole limo. Deal with it.”
As our lips reconnect, I hear Justine groan. “Great, now we’re stuck watching softcore porn for the next three hours.”
As our kiss deepens, Erica’s hands begin to roam more boldly. Her fingers slip under the hem of my shirt, tracing fiery paths across my skin. I feel a jolt of electricity as she grazes my nipple, eliciting an involuntary gasp. Emboldened, Erica shifts her position, practically climbing into my lap. Her hips grind against mine in a slow, tantalizing rhythm that makes my head spin.
The air in the limo grows thick and heavy with the scent of arousal. Erica’s lips leave mine to trail hot kisses down my neck, nipping and sucking in a way that’s sure to leave marks. Her hand slides lower, palming me through my jeans with increasing pressure. I can’t help the low moan that escapes me, my hips bucking up into her touch.
Suddenly, I become acutely aware of our audience. Tara’s eyes are wide, her cheeks flushed as she watches us intently. Nikki and Justine have abandoned their debate, their gazes fixed on the show we’re putting on. Even the driver seems to be stealing glances in the rearview mirror.
Embarrassment floods through me, breaking through the haze of lust. I pull away abruptly, my face burning hot enough to fry an egg.
Erica gives me a sultry frown, her blue eyes dark with desire. “Aww, why’d you stop, baby?” she purrs, her voice husky. “It took way longer for you to get embarrassed than it used to.”
I sigh, running a hand through my disheveled hair. “I’m turning into a degenerate,” I mutter, unable to meet anyone’s eyes.
Erica nods, a wicked grin spreading across her face. She grabs my chin, forcing me to look at her. “My degenerate,” she says possessively, her tone sending a shiver down my spine.
Desperate to change the subject, I clear my throat. “So, uh... Yakub?”
Nikki perks up immediately. “Oh yeah! I was saying Yakub had to have been hung.”
Justine rolls her eyes. “And I maintain that he probably had a chode.”
I clear my throat, ready to unleash my carefully constructed argument. “Look, Yakub was a man of science. If you can create white people, he probably had a long schlong that he made himself. I mean, think about it, a genius who can manipulate genetics? He’d definitely upgrade his own equipment.”
The limo falls silent as everyone considers this perspective. Tara’s eyes widen, probably impressed by my logic. Nikki nods vigorously, raising her wine glass in a mock toast.
But Justine isn’t backing down. She leans forward, her green eyes cold and emotionless. “Explain the forehead then, Jason,” she counters, her voice dripping with disdain. “If he was so good at genetic manipulation, why’d he leave himself with that dome? Checkmate.” She motions a chess piece being nocked over.
I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. My words catch in my throat as the full weight of her argument hits me. The silence in the limo grows heavy as everyone waits for my rebuttal. But I’ve got nothing. My mind races, searching for a counterargument, but comes up empty.
“I can’t...” I finally admit, slumping back in my seat, utterly defeated.
Tara bursts into laughter, the sound filling the limo. “Fuck, is this how lunch goes every day?” she asks between gasps for air.
Erica’s eyes narrow in annoyance. “It’s exactly this. Every. Fucking. Day. Non-stop,” she growls, pinching the bridge of her nose.
I try to ignore her exasperation, still reeling from my debate loss. As the weight of my defeat settles over me, I reach for my wine glass, desperate for a distraction. Without hesitation, I tip the glass back and start chugging.
I gulp greedily, barely pausing for breath as the wine finds a warm path down my throat and settles in my stomach like liquid courage.
As I drain the last drops from my glass, I lower it with a satisfied gasp. The world feels softer now, my embarrassment slowly fading into a pleasant buzz that tingles through my limbs. I turn to Erica, admiring how the light catches the golden highlights in her hair, making it look like spun silk. Her blue eyes sparkle with amusement as she watches me, one perfectly shaped eyebrow arched in silent question.
“I wish I just kept making out with Erica in hindsight,” I mutter.
Erica’s lips curve into a predatory smile, her gaze intensifying in a way that makes my heart race. She leans in close, her breath hot against my ear as she whispers, “That can be arranged.”