He returned with a first aid kit and took his position - crouched in front of me. Didn't his ankles or calves hurt, I'd feel pain with the way he frequently did that.
“This will sting a little.” He warned and caught my eyes for a second before placing the cotton wool soaked with methylated spirit on one of my knuckles. Pain shot through my body straight up to my head and all I could do was shiver and manage a low grunt. He carefully cleaned the blood off my fingers with the cotton wool and then used other first-aid tools to continue the procedure.
Soon enough, my knuckles were bandaged and didn't hurt as much. I looked down at him. He looked stressed and a little weak, I guess he's become so used to taking care of everything and everyone around him that he can't bear to see someone hurt.
“Thank you.” I muttered but making it loud enough for him to hear. He looked up with a stiff smile and I clicked my tongue with my teeth. Must he spoil the fun? I was only asking that he be soft for a few minutes but there! He can't do that. Not with me?
“You hungry?” He asked, getting up to his feet and plopping on the bed beside me. I gulped, why did he always ask obvious questions? What kind of a dumbo was he?
“No. I'm not usually hungry in the mornings. I eat ravenously at night!” I nudged him on the shoulder… again. Bad habit. “You need to learn to ask better questions like, “What do you want for breakfast?” Or “How many omelets can you finish in one sitting?” I sighed and turned to see him looking steadily at me. My cheeks became hot.
“What is it?” I shrieked in surprise as my palms went up to cover my cheeks.
“You've gotten your answer, you love omelets for breakfast and also do not like obvious questions.” He said, coolly as he rose to his feet still having that face; a mixture of placid and concerned. I wonder how he pulled such unique expressions. I was either expressionless or had a face filled with expressions. “Watch your hand though.” He concluded as he began to drag his feet to the door.
A chuckle escaped my mouth. It was obvious that it had stiffened from the long minutes of crouching to dress my wound. How adorable.
Before I could think of anything or try to shake off the idea, I stood up and followed him. Watching him cook wouldn’t be that bad, would it?
Sexy couldn't sum up what he looked in an apron. This man was sending me all the signals a man could send without saying a word or making an obvious advance. David is a fine man, no doubt but Damien has passed the “fine” mark. He's gorgeous and sculpted, I'd hate to call him a demigod because that was commonly used in all these romance stories but … but words fail me.
His muscles flexed as he kept on stirring the eyes and flipping the frying man. It was so effortless, I continuously stopped myself from a standing ovation. The battle in my mind won't be left unmentioned.
The rational side of me didn't like that I was being a fan girl after one man had smashed every little bit of my heart but most of my thoughts didn't think so. They had a mind of their own so I followed anyone that came.
Clang!
Something was placed on the glass table. A camera? I looked up at him in confusion. What did I need a camera for? But he didn't say a word instead he stepped a few feet away from the table and did a stylish pose. I forced myself to breathe, to be still. Did he have something to drink when I was asleep? Like some strong alcohol that only caved in after a few hours? Because this was point black weird!
“What the hell is your problem?” I snapped, shoving the camera out of my sight. The table squeaked and I groaned. This man needed better knowledge of furniture, who the hell used a fucking glass table for a kitchen table?
“The hell of my problem is that a pretty lady wouldn't stop staring at me. So, I decided to pose for a picture.” He deadpanned, the nasty smirk he heralded didn't go unnoticed.
I hissed.
“Aren't I permitted to stare as much as I want at my husband?” I blinked seductively “ Not when he has such a nice, round butt” I carried on and his expression darkened.
“Don't go there, Sophia. I can be a beast when I'm naked with a woman.”
“You should have said “in bed”. That was too raw.”
He smirked, turning off the heat of the cooker. “I wanted to be sure that we are towing the same line. But I can see you're a scared, daddy's princess.”
I rolled my eyes, furious that he'd mention my father. “I was a daddy's princess, not anymore. But that doesn't mean that I'll get into sexually provocative arguments or discussions with you. I'm not the maid, things don't easily move me.” I eyed him nastily.
A plate of omelet, bottle of honey and glass of freshly made fruit juice all arranged on a tray graced my eyes before he said, “I didn't want to cajole you into it but that was a witty response.”
I leaned in, sniffing in the fragrance. I raised up my head to say something nice but he quickly averted his gaze. “I caught you.” My tone was set. If you want to stare at me, at least be bold. I hated mind games, “Why were you staring?”
“Why don't you want me staring? I was impressed by how you liked to smell a meal instead of trying it. Over the top weird.” His last sentence was in a jocular tone but others were accusatory.
“I have this philosophy.” I started. “If the fragrance is too good, whatever is on the plate won't meet up to the standard of being tasteful and if the fragrance wasn't too good or bad, it'll be delicious.” I paused to give him time before saying, “Your food is delicious.”
A smile. A nod. A pat on the hand. An appreciation. Or acknowledgment was what I expected but none came. Damien looked on like a zombie. My ego was once again crushed by this unpredictable dick of a man.
What an onslaught.
As soon as the piece of omelet on my fork kissed my tongue, I forgot all about Damien, David, Audrey, my parents, my childhood, the media, my contract marriage, every single thing. It was heavenly, it was skillful and I silently swore that every single soul in Rubenn and the five states surrounding it would have a taste of this goodness before the marital contract was over.
“Easy there.” I heard him caution. I guess I'd been gobbling everything up like a starved kid but what can I say? My tongue couldn't wait a second before having this treasure kiss it again. My moans were loud but I didn't mind.
I rarely ate and when I did, I wanted to moan.
“Do you have some more?” I pleaded with my eyes. Praying. Hoping that he wouldn't shake his head but he did.
I sighed and reclined on the chair. Forming a row of curse words in my mind. How dare he make such a small portion?
“Can I pay you?” My voice was small, surprising the anger inside of me. He chuckled.
“I'll make you as many omelets as you like but that'll be after my meeting.”
My eyes widened, “ Are you going out?” It sounded like those desperate cries described in the Bible.
He patted my head, “No, wifey. I took the week off. You seem like you need another pair of eyes to watch you. You're clumsy.” He smiled this time. It looked dreamy but I forced my brain to focus.
Suddenly, he turned on his heels and lurched for the door. What a weirdo! Holding the door handle, he called out to me. I faced him.
“You're beautiful. Adorable.” He stopped himself. “H-have a nice day.”
I chuckled, leaning into the seat and letting my cheeks turn red. I wanted to savor the compliment on his lips. Not that I wasn't aware or I hadn't heard it before but his acknowledgement of it made my body tingle.
Even more than David's early morning texts did.
This was new…