Page 290 of Bride of Choice

The chair scraped loudly as he pushed it back and stood to his full, towering height. He made no move to step away from the table.

“Ways make head aches go ‘way,” he rumbled out quietly.

“Lemme guess, by putting your penis in me? Uh, no.” My sarcasm laden words were met with a shake of his head.

Hands on my hips, mouth puckering in a funny moue, I thought, alright, I’ll bite.

“It has nothing to do with your penis?” I queried, just to be sure.

Once more, he shook his head.

“And it’s not going to hurt?” I had to be sure.

Another shake of his head.

“Fine, what is it?” I muttered, eyeing him curiously.

“Eat. Then fix,” he grunted out between monster bites as he quickly retook his seat.

After I’d eaten as much as my stomach would allow without feeling like I was going to puke, I offered the rest of my food to the furry garbage disposal inhaling his third heaping helping.

“I assume you’ll be gone come morning. I’m cool with this,” I muttered. I expected nothing less, or more, of him.

At least in that, I understood him. I wasn’t going to ask him for things he wasn’t capable of giving me. We were past that. He may swear he wants me but his actions have taught me otherwise. He wants me for a moment, then he’s ready to run.

Walking over to the bed, he gestured for me to lay down. He had nothing to say about vamoosing come daylight. Giving him a look that said he’d better not be lying, I did as he’d instructed.

Coming over me, leaning over until I was sure this was a trick and he was two seconds from climbing atop me, he placed his fingers at my temple and forehead and began to massage my aching skull.

Less than a minute in and I felt myself relaxing, despite how tense the rest of me was.

“No dying animal songs,” I muttered, then blew out a deep breath.

“No like singings?” I could hear the humor in his voice.

“Jackass,” I mumbled, not bothering to open my eyes as he turned my brain to pudding in the best possible way.

“Thanks, you know, for this, since I’m, like, about to pass out and you’ll be halfway to your treehouse by the time I realize you’re gone and all that shit,” I croaked out. My brow tried to tug into a frown at the emotion seeping into my voice but he smoothed those frown lines right out.

Fuck, am I pathetic.

I didn’t want him to go.

Scooting over towards the wall, hoping he took it as me trying to get comfortable, yet also hoping he took it as a sign to join me on the bed, I didn’t realize how much I’d tensed up waiting to see what he was going to do until he drew closer and the bed dipped.

A whimper of a noise left me when he paused for a minute and lifted his hands before scooting closer and resettling them, to pick up right where he’d left off.

His soft chuckle was full of Told ya so.

“Shut up,” I muttered, which just seemed to amuse him even more.

A snort left me as he had himself a little chuckle at my expense.

Whatever, I told myself. He was here, a quiet presence not expecting a fucking thing from me and his thick digits were finger feckin’ my face and it was glorious.

Laying there with the beast of few words, I was once more entrapped in my own thoughts.

Just as I felt those emotions growing heads like a hydra, one lopped off for two or three more to come at me, the most awful song in existence came softly erupting from the beast hovering over me.

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