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.

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

his bright silver gaze sparkling with amusement. “You are late. It’s ten

and trying not to notice how

His tattoos are showing. And his muscles. And I want to put

perfume wafts toward me and I nearly

Margo. I can smell her all

angry. I can’t explain why, nor do I have the right

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

eyes narrow and his smile disappears. “You

“Not you. So, bye!” My attempt to shut the door in his face is thwarted by a bright white

calm down! Wait a minute! I told you we were going to

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

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

laugh, “Oh yeah? Did she mark you first?

startles as I throw him a sarcastic frown. His face looks so frighteneed for a second that

my head at him warily. Then with a

questions get stupid answers,

jaw, casting his eyes downward

at him and slanting my eyes

as if someone might jump in and save him from my wrath. “I was going to but I-,” he stops, crossing his arms over

do not have to have breakfast with 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 I want to pay rent! So that I don’t have to let you in here and I don’t have to be nice to you.” I grant

to face me, his eyes are shing with perverse pleasure. “You’re jealous,” he accuses, rotating his shoulders

down on 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

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

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