Page 40 of Fearless

Why the fuck did I just say that?

The hopeful look on her face answers my question and I realize I like it.

I make my way across the room with the shirt in my hand, and I don’t miss her eyes quickly taking in my bare chest. She manages to put the shirt on over her clothes whilst still remaining under the covers. It’s all sorts of acrobatics and I’m smiling as I watch her. When she slides out, she’s covered in black from her neck to her upper thigh. “Fits like a glove,” she mutters.

I laugh at her.

I should be making for the door. I did what I set out to do. Her most basic needs are met and yet my feet are still planted firmly on the ground and I can’t keep my eyes off her as she crosses the room and sits on the couch.

I think she impresses me.

I’ve never contemplated thinking that about a woman before, let alone one as small and weak and innocent as her. But she’s not weak. Not really. A weak person wouldn’t have fought me like she did on the first morning. And it takes a fucking lot of strength to do the fucked up shit I made her do earlier without complaint. Well, much complaint.

Maybe she’s not as weak as she looks. And I’m starting to think she’s not as innocent, either.

But she is small, there’s no argument there. Very small. She might not be weak, but she’s still no match for me. And I like that.

I cross the room without thinking and take the seat next to her.

She lifts one of her eyebrows into a perfect arch, and twirls the stir-fry around on her fork. “Sofa for two, is it?”

“Would you rather eat alone?”

She doesn’t reply, and instead puts a forkful of twisted up stir-fry into her mouth.

I watch her, fascinated.

Why the fuck am I fascinated by a girl eating?

I need to think of something to say to her. Anything to stop me staring. “So… how are you?”

She pretends to almost choke on her dinner. “Who, me? Never been better.”

I smirk at her. “Glad to hear it.”

“Well…” She hesitates, peeking at me through her thick, dark lashes. “I’m a little bored.”

“Bored?”

“Yes.Bored. There’s nothing to do down here. I’ve counted the dildos in the closet four times now.”

Now I’m the one almost choking. “We could play hide and seek?”

She gives me a look that could cut through concrete.

“Alright then. What’s your favorite color?”

“Green. Yours?”

“Also green. Because apparently black’s not a color.”

She smiles. “Favorite food?”

I shrug. “I like all food. If I had to choose, probably pizza. Yours?”

“Boerekos.”

I frown at her. “The fuck is that?”

---