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.

late,” I tell him smoothly, rubbing the sleep from my eyes and flipping

“You are late. It’s ten

arms over my chest and trying not to notice how crisp and fuckable he looks in white sweats and a stark white tank

And I want to put my mouth on each and

toward me

can smell

do I have the right to be, but I

a few

eyes narrow and his smile disappears. “You got what you

the door in his face is thwarted by a bright white Nike sneaker. I nearly lose my shit.

you we were going to

him with a sweet saccharine grin.”No. We’re not. Have

lifts in amusment. A half smile quirking up as he wets his lips. “Margo is

yeah? Did she

him a sarcastic frown. His face looks so frighteneed for a second that

cocking my head at him warily. Then with a

get stupid

eyes downward as

night,” I quip at him and

to but I-,” he stops, crossing his arms over his chest and idadvertanlty making his pectorals more prominently visible. His face turns indignant, ” -wait a minute, I

but he pushes inside, and I throw my hands up in frustration. “Really?” I snap, stomping my foot in annoyance. “You’re just

are shing with perverse pleasure. “You’re jealous,” he

the couch with a laugh. “No. I’m not jealous. I just don’t like you or your bitch. I never intended to come to breakfast,” I lie.

as if he doesn’t know what else to say. They finally fall on me and

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