Read Online Sleeping With the Enemy by Laurie Breton - Free Book Online
Authors: Laurie Breton
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light. Promising herself that she’d dust tomorrow, Rose padded barefoot down the carpeted hall, swung open the door to her bedroom, and stumbled directly into a Kodak moment.
She wasn’t sure who was more stunned. The naked couple grappling amid the bedding jerked apart and scrambled to cover themselves. She had a quick glimpse of ripe young flesh before Devon snatched up the comforter and wrapped it around herself and the boy. “Oh, shit,” her daughter said.
Kyle Housman said nothing, just stared coolly at her with those infernal gray eyes.
Rose’s blood pressure shot through the roof. “You have approximately thirty seconds,” she told him, “to get dressed and out of my house. Capisce ?”
He nodded dumbly.
“Get your clothes on,” she told her daughter. “I’ll deal with you in the kitchen.”
Fuming, she stalked to the kitchen and began slamming the breakfast dishes around in the sink. How dare that slimeball touch her daughter? And in her own home. Her own bed! Rose scrubbed furiously at her cast-iron frying pan. Tears of fury and disappointment burned behind her eyelids.
Kyle wisely left by the front door. A few minutes later, Devon slipped into the kitchen, hands tucked into the pockets of her cut-offs, adolescent breasts thrust forward defiantly beneath a black tee shirt with a picture of the Tasmanian Devil on it. “It’s no big thing,” she said.
“No big thing?” Rose said. “I come home and find my daughter in bed with some heathen , andshe tells me it’s no big thing?”
“Get real, Mom. Did you really think I was still a virgin?”
With the scruffy haircut and those huge eyes, Eddie’s eyes, Devon looked about twelve years old. Of course Rose had believed she was still a virgin. She was seventeen years old, for God’s sake. A child.
“I don’t suppose,” she said, “that it occurred to either of you to use protection?”
Devon had the grace to flush. “We don’t need protection. Kyle always pulls out before—you know.”
“Dear God in heaven. Have you ever heard of AIDS?”
Her daughter glared at her. “You’re such a hypocrite. Do you think I don’t know exactly what you were doing when you left Uncle Rob’s wedding with that guy? How come it’s okay for you if it’s not okay for me?”
Devon’s words hit her like a slap to the face. Furious, she said, “I happen to be thirty-six years old. I have the right to sleep with anyone I choose. You, on the other hand, are seventeen. You’re still underage, and I have a big surprise for you, Miss Muffet. This household is not a democracy. It’s a dictatorship, and I’m head honcho. And if I catch you with that boy, or any other boy, again, you won’t see the light of day before you’re thirty-six. Is that clear?”
Devon’s eyes narrowed. “I hate you!”
“Yeah? Well, I’m not particularly fond of you right now, either.”
Devon turned and stomped off in the direction of her room. “Wait just a minute!” Rose yelled at her retreating back.
Her daughter paused, squared her shoulders, and turned around. “What?”
“I want you to go into my room, strip the bed, and remake it with clean bedding. While you’re at it, you can throw the dirty sheets into the washing machine.”
Seconds ticked away before Devon spoke. “Is there anything else, Mommie Dearest?”
Her daughter’s anger, a palpable thing, made Rose’s chest ache. When had this enmity sprung up between them? “Yes,” Rose said. “One more thing. You can unplug the telephone in your room and bring it to me.”
“ What ? You can’t take away my phone! That’s not fair!”
“Tell it to the judge, toots. Now move it!”
Visibly fighting back tears, Devon stomped off down the hall. She returned with the telephone and flung it on the kitchen table before retreating in livid silence. A moment later, her bedroom door slammed shut behind her.
She wasn’t sure who was more stunned. The naked couple grappling amid the bedding jerked apart and scrambled to cover themselves. She had a quick glimpse of ripe young flesh before Devon snatched up the comforter and wrapped it around herself and the boy. “Oh, shit,” her daughter said.
Kyle Housman said nothing, just stared coolly at her with those infernal gray eyes.
Rose’s blood pressure shot through the roof. “You have approximately thirty seconds,” she told him, “to get dressed and out of my house. Capisce ?”
He nodded dumbly.
“Get your clothes on,” she told her daughter. “I’ll deal with you in the kitchen.”
Fuming, she stalked to the kitchen and began slamming the breakfast dishes around in the sink. How dare that slimeball touch her daughter? And in her own home. Her own bed! Rose scrubbed furiously at her cast-iron frying pan. Tears of fury and disappointment burned behind her eyelids.
Kyle wisely left by the front door. A few minutes later, Devon slipped into the kitchen, hands tucked into the pockets of her cut-offs, adolescent breasts thrust forward defiantly beneath a black tee shirt with a picture of the Tasmanian Devil on it. “It’s no big thing,” she said.
“No big thing?” Rose said. “I come home and find my daughter in bed with some heathen , andshe tells me it’s no big thing?”
“Get real, Mom. Did you really think I was still a virgin?”
With the scruffy haircut and those huge eyes, Eddie’s eyes, Devon looked about twelve years old. Of course Rose had believed she was still a virgin. She was seventeen years old, for God’s sake. A child.
“I don’t suppose,” she said, “that it occurred to either of you to use protection?”
Devon had the grace to flush. “We don’t need protection. Kyle always pulls out before—you know.”
“Dear God in heaven. Have you ever heard of AIDS?”
Her daughter glared at her. “You’re such a hypocrite. Do you think I don’t know exactly what you were doing when you left Uncle Rob’s wedding with that guy? How come it’s okay for you if it’s not okay for me?”
Devon’s words hit her like a slap to the face. Furious, she said, “I happen to be thirty-six years old. I have the right to sleep with anyone I choose. You, on the other hand, are seventeen. You’re still underage, and I have a big surprise for you, Miss Muffet. This household is not a democracy. It’s a dictatorship, and I’m head honcho. And if I catch you with that boy, or any other boy, again, you won’t see the light of day before you’re thirty-six. Is that clear?”
Devon’s eyes narrowed. “I hate you!”
“Yeah? Well, I’m not particularly fond of you right now, either.”
Devon turned and stomped off in the direction of her room. “Wait just a minute!” Rose yelled at her retreating back.
Her daughter paused, squared her shoulders, and turned around. “What?”
“I want you to go into my room, strip the bed, and remake it with clean bedding. While you’re at it, you can throw the dirty sheets into the washing machine.”
Seconds ticked away before Devon spoke. “Is there anything else, Mommie Dearest?”
Her daughter’s anger, a palpable thing, made Rose’s chest ache. When had this enmity sprung up between them? “Yes,” Rose said. “One more thing. You can unplug the telephone in your room and bring it to me.”
“ What ? You can’t take away my phone! That’s not fair!”
“Tell it to the judge, toots. Now move it!”
Visibly fighting back tears, Devon stomped off down the hall. She returned with the telephone and flung it on the kitchen table before retreating in livid silence. A moment later, her bedroom door slammed shut behind her.
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