Chapter Seven
DRAVEN
I wake up not really knowing where I am. The bed beneath me is so soft I honestly wonder if I might be asleep at all. Maybe I’m not asleep, maybe I am dead and in heaven.
But then the doorbell rings.
Did I have plans this morning? I think I did. I’m almost sure I did…but what?
I open my eyes. “Shit! What time is it?!”
The doorbell sounds again, and I fall out of bed reaching for the things I wore yesterday. “Fuck! I’m coming! Hold the hell on!”
Stumbling down the stairs in my dirty clothes, I flip the switch allowing the shades to reveal the heavy fog of morning crowding the yard. The sight brings a contented smile to my face.
Wow…it really is beautiful here.
Ding dong!!!!
“Jesus!” I screech, opening the door. “The fuck is your deal?”
He stands there looking sexy as hell, the hint of a smile on his face. “I told you nine a.m. sharp.”
Domonic.
Of course. I forgot all about the breakfast appointment.
the sleep from my eyes and flipping him
gaze sparkling with amusement. “You are late. It’s ten in the
and trying not to notice
muscles. And I want to
then… his perfume wafts toward me and I nearly
can smell her
angry. I can’t explain why, nor do I have the right to
around for a few more minutes
eyes narrow and his smile disappears. “You got what you
scoff. “Not you. So, bye!” My attempt to shut the door in his face
I told you we were going to have breakfast,
grace him with a sweet saccharine grin.”No. We’re not. Have breakfast with Margo
in amusment. A half smile quirking up as he wets his lips. “Margo is
“Oh yeah? Did she mark you first?
a sarcastic frown. His
what?” I chortle, cocking my head at him warily. Then with a roll
get stupid answers,
jaw, casting his eyes downward
I quip at him and slanting my eyes
save him from my wrath. “I was going to but I-,” he stops, crossing
you.” I attempt to close the door, but he pushes inside, and I throw my hands up in frustration. “Really?” I snap, stomping my foot in annoyance. “You’re just going to push yourself inside? You see? This is why
eyes are shing with perverse pleasure. “You’re jealous,” he accuses, rotating his shoulders and sizing me up as he steps closer with
like you or your bitch. I never intended to come to breakfast,” I lie. I was going to, but now that
ticking back and forth as if he doesn’t know what
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