Page 42 of Knot Innocent
Pulling a cup from the cabinet, I move on autopilot, thinking through how this might turn out. If my plan works, I could end up dead, silencing the demons for good. Or Bastien and I could end up fighting our demons together.
I glance around the kitchen at my solitary life filled with ceramic dicks and shake my head. Okay, maybe I’m a little crazy myself, not to mention lonely. Exhausting all other arguments, the only question left worth asking is, what the hell have I got to lose?
Another point to the demons is that I even considered going through with my crazy plan… and have apparently now decided in favor of it.
It probably means I’m insane, but I’m going to push Bastien, intentionally get under his skin. I’ll test his patience and drive him mad until I prove my point that there’s no way he could hit a woman, even provoked.
Assuming my theory is correct, his attraction to me won’t let him walk away easily. If I’m wrong, he’ll be gone in under three seconds. All I have to do now is figure out how to do it, how to push him without being bratty.
The last drops of coffee sputter out of the machine, and I pull the cup off to dress it how I like. Instead of working on a plan, I think about last night’s kiss while stirring my coffee. Bastien’s hold on my body was tight, possessive. The way he pinned me to the wall, his hungry mouth, his erection straining the fabric of his shorts, everything was straight out of an erotic fantasy land. He absolutely hijacked the moment, which I absolutely didn’t mind.
Even though he backed off, Bastien made one thing abundantly clear. He wants me. As much as he fears becoming his father, he can’t seem to fight the urge to be near me. At least I’ve got that point going in my favor.
Noise from the living room draws me out of my fantasy. I hurriedly finish the coffee and ready myself for what I expect to be an awkward Sunday morning. “Your bed was much more comfortable than your sofa,” Bastien claims while flexing his neck.
“Of course. That’s because I was in it.”
“Birdie,” he growls in warning.
“Yes, Bastien?” I ask sweetly.
He groans and steals my coffee before storming back to the living room.
Game on.
Yep. I just figured out my strategy. Wearing a smile on my face, I pull some cinnamon rolls from a bag in the freezer, plop them on a baking pan, and make another cup of coffee. This one, I take back to my room.
I have a shower and pack some things for what I hope is a short stay on the compound. Once that’s done, I haul my crap to the entry hall and return to the kitchen to pop the not-homemade pastries in the oven. I’m no French chef like Monsieur Laurent, but I can operate an oven. While those bake, I pull some sausage patties from the freezer and grab a pan from the hanging rack.
Bastien returns to the kitchen, holding the empty mug, and approaches the table warily. I barely glance his way before focusing on the pan of sausage—half-focusing, anyway. When I’m not tending to the sizzling meat, I’m putting on a show.
After our earlier encounter and showering, I dressed in my favorite jeans. Those jeans.
Every girl has a pair of those jeans. Ones that she feels sexy in. I paired mine with a fluttery floral top with a peek-a-boo crisscross back. I’ve also put my hair up so it doesn’t cover any skin exposed by the shirt’s design.
I stretch to reach the utensils instead of side-stepping. Later, I bend over to peek at the rolls instead of stooping. This mating dance goes on for a while, and then I hear, “I know what you’re doing, Birdie. Knock it off.”
Using my most innocent voice, I ask, “You want me to quit making breakfast?”
Since the sausages are done anyway, I turn off the eye and reach into an upper cabinet for plates. Of course, I make sure to poke out my butt as I do.
The next thing I know, Bastien presses himself against my back, crotch to shoulder, slightly bending me over the counter. With his hands on the granite and mouth to my ear, he rumbles, “I’ve been trained to withstand torture, Petit Oiseau. You shaking that ass in front of my face won’t work. It’ll only get you spanked.”
After delicious shivers roll down my entire body, uncontrollable laughter bubbles up from my middle. “God, I hope you didn’t mean that as a threat. Most women would form a line down the street for you to spank them.”
Bastien scrambles away, and I turn around to see him wearing a comically horrified expression. “You’re making that up.”
I force the laughter down enough to say, “I swear, I’m not. Haven’t you ever seen...?” I stop, realizing how ridiculous the question is. There’s no way he’s seen Fifty Shades. “Never mind. Just... if you want to threaten a woman, you better come up with something else because that will definitely not work.”
Bastien nods solemnly. “Noted, though I don’t actually want to threaten any woman.”
“We’ll see,” I reply under my breath.
Bastien’s eyes narrow, indicating he heard me. He doesn’t comment, however.
Breakfast is soon finished despite my occasional chuckles at Bastien’s threat, and then we’re heading out. My stuff gets loaded into the back of my SUV, and I climb behind the wheel.
We’re both headed to the Knot Corp compound, me to have a fortress to protect me, and Bastien to trade in Knot’s Escalade for his truck.