Page 5 of Consumed By Desire
“Relax,” I tell him, rinsing the cloth out.
“He wants a wench,”
“A wench?” I ask, wondering why I am trying to have a rational conversation with a drunk person.
“Yep,”
“A tit wench with ass.” What the hell is he talking about? He pulls on the belt of my robe, brushing the sides open with his hands.
“Ow,” he says when I rub across the cut too roughly.
“Sorry,” I whisper as he places his hands on my hips, guiding me to stand between his spread legs. “You might need stitches,” I tell him.
“No,”
“Ugh,” I make my way back over to the bathroom cabinet to grab the first aid kit and walk back in between his legs without giving it any thought. “Hold this,” I instruct him before opening it and finding the butterfly bandages. I take a couple out, apply antiseptic cream before pinching his skin together, and put the butterfly bandages over the cut. I pull my lip between my teeth in concentration as I make my way down the gash, pulling the edges together as best I can to minimize the scar. I hear the kit hit the floor seconds before I feel his hands on my legs, actually my thighs.
“Mmm, he talked about tips and ash, but these ties are,” he growls as his hands travel higher on my thighs, and I realize my hands are shaking as I apply the self-adhesive gauze to his head. The man is talking gibberish. I begin cleaning the rest of his face when his hands slide under my sleep shorts to grasp my bare ass. I freeze while he begins kneading my ass as he is saying stuff I can’t make out, but I know if his fine ass doesn’t stop touching me like this, I am going to hump his face. I hurry up and finish washing his face, taking note that he is not seriously hurt, and quickly pull away from him before I make a fool out of myself. I am entirely aware of my actions, but he is very obviously drunk.
“I don’t feel that good,” he says before hopping up, lifting the lid and throwing up. I wet the cloth with cold water, laying it across his neck. “Thanks,” he mumbles. “I got it,” he says, obviously wanting me to leave him alone.
“There are more washcloths, toothbrushes, toothpaste, and mouthwash in the cabinet on the counter,” I tell him. He waves his hand in acknowledgement and I hurry out of the bathroom. Never in a million years would I have thought I would be patching Legend up in my bathroom at oh dark thirty while he feels me up, but here we are. I head back into my living room to grab the broom to sweep up the broken glass, but first, I detour to the kitchen.
I grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator and down it in a few gulps. I am embarrassed to say Legend has me hot and bothered. I don’t know how long I was standing there, empty water bottle in one hand and the broom in the other, until Legend stumbled in with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, and suddenly my mouth was sandpaper dry. I watch jealously as I watch the bead of water travel over his hard abs, wishing it was my tongue instead. He plops on my sofa, “I am sorry I disturbed you, Shannon. I will make it up to you. Can I have a bottle of water?” he asks.
“Sure,” I say, turning back to the refrigerator and grabbing another bottle, but by the time I make it over to the sofa, he is asleep sitting up. Grabbing a pillow and blanket from my linen closet, I head back into the living room, putting the pillow on the sofa, before gently laying him down, putting his feet up before covering him with the blanket. I stand there, looking at him sleeping, and find my hands tunneling through his hair as he sleeps before leaning down and kissing him on the forehead. “Good night, Legend,” I say before turning off the lights and heading to bed.
What the fuck! I think as I climb into bed, I don’t even like his smug ass. I climb into my bed, acutely aware that Legend is in my living room asleep on the sofa.Yeah, right,my other personality says in response.You don’t like him, but you want to ride his dick like it’s an Olympic sport!Shut up! I hiss, realizing I am not only having a conversation with myself, I am arguing with myself, too.Uptight ass, she says inside my head and I wonder if I should call my therapist in the morning to see if she can pencil me in for another session this week, I think, as sleep finally claims me.
CHAPTER3
Shannon
A delicious smell pulls me from my sleep. I hop out of bed and hurry to the bathroom before rushing into my kitchen to see Legend standing there in just his dress pants. No socks, shoes, or shirt, wearing an apron, dishing up some crispy bacon on a plate.
“You’re awake,” he says once he notices me standing there, mouth agape.
“Uh yeah, the smell didn’t give me much choice,”
“I planned to bring you breakfast in bed, but since you are up, come have a seat,” he tells me. I don’t know what to focus on first: him being in my kitchen, him in my kitchen wearing nothing but a pair of pants and an apron, or him in my kitchen wearing nothing but a pair of pants and an apron cooking. My stomach grumbles, letting me know it doesn’t care about any of the above outside of the food portion of the equation.
“Come eat, Bella,” he says, and I have to clench my thighs from the warmth that is spreading below my waist. I pad across the floor, looking at the food suspiciously.
“Why are you looking at the food like it’s rancid meat?” he asks, making me crook my eye up at him. “Aww, that’s right, you’re always impressed when a primate can do advanced activities. Right?” he asks, and I cringe at him repeating the words I said to him at Trinitee and Legend’s wedding shower.
“Are you ever going to let that go?” I ask.
“That you called me an ape? Nope.” He slides some bacon, eggs, and breakfast potatoes on a plate and hands it to me before grabbing the orange juice from the refrigerator and pouring me a glass. Then he piles the remainder of the food so high on his plate that the bacon is teetering precariously on top of the mound of potatoes and eggs as he sits down and immediately tucks in.
“I had this food in my refrigerator?”
“No, I had groceries delivered,” he says, shoveling another spoonful of food in his mouth.
“Wait, did you clean up?” I noticed the glass from last night is no longer on the floor.
“I did. I have to apologize for popping up here last night unannounced and drunk, I didn’t even know where I was going until I was going here. Once we finish eating, I will clean up and get out of your hair. Oh, do you know what happened to my shirt?” he asks.
“Um, well, it was bloody, so it’s ruined, but I think I have something for you instead,” I tell him as I hop off the stool and head into my closet. I find the shirt I am looking for and bring it back to him.