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.

smoothly, rubbing the sleep from my eyes and flipping

late. It’s ten in

and trying not to notice how crisp

And I want to put my mouth on each

his perfume wafts toward me

smell her

why, nor do I have the right to be,

to roll around for a few more minutes laughing because, I

narrow and his smile disappears. “You

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

Wait a minute! I told you we

sweet saccharine grin.”No. We’re not. Have breakfast with Margo

half smile quirking up as he wets

Did she mark you

His face looks so frighteneed for a second that I almost

do you mean, what?” I chortle, cocking my head at him warily. Then with

questions get stupid

eyes

I quip at him and slanting my eyes as I push the door closed, just

someone might jump in and save him from my wrath. “I was going to but I-,” he stops, crossing his arms over his chest and idadvertanlty making his pectorals more prominently visible. His face turns indignant, ”

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

pleasure. “You’re jealous,” he accuses,

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

something, his eyes ticking back and forth as if he doesn’t know what else to say. They

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