Page 17 of Purgatory
My lack of game is showing, badly, and I let out a giggle and nod, saying “Good to know...”
Thankfully, Cole notices my awkwardness and relieves me of my suffering, “Alright, I think that’s enough excitement for today. Let’s get to bed. We could all use some decent sleep. Feel free to use the bathroom in the hallway if you’d like to clean up. We all have bathrooms in our rooms. Just grab a towel out of the closet.”
Cole takes and rinses my bowl for me before we all head up the stairs.
“A shower sounds, amazing, actually.” I start towards the closet in search of a towel to do just that.
Hawk comes up closer to me as we walk down the hall, dips his head to mine and whispers, “In case you were wondering... I make a pretty good big spoon... just so you know" before walking off into his room and shutting the doorquietly behind him as I stand there, gaping in his vacant direction.
Chapter 12
Alessandra
The next morning, I find myself downright refusing to leave the safety and comfort of the bed. Not only because I have some back up, who are conveniently and electrifyingly gorgeous and I can finally relax for once, but also because I’ve been warned that the one and only person besides me that is left in the house this morning, is, apparently, the living epitome of a Disney villain... or hero... antihero? Whatever, let’s just hope for Stockholm Syndrome as a worst possibility and aim for something a little more friendly... Like the Beast after the snowball fight... we can fast forward, right? No dancing dinnerware necessary.
Who am I kidding though. Hunger and boredom end up winning... as usual, fucking bastards, and I end up tip-toeing out of my safe haven. I take my time meandering down to the kitchen and hear nothing else but the echo of my own footsteps and my careful breathing.
I reach the kitchen and see no active signs of life. There are dishes drying in the rack by the sink and a wooden bowl with a dish towel draped over it, but that’s about it for the kitchen.
I make my way over to the living room and stand in the entryway. I wasn’t really able to take in the space yesterday but looking at it now, I can see it’s well taken care of and has its own sort of southern charm. Large, deep-seated dark leather sofas take over the room and the bookshelves that linethe walls are filled to the brim with various novels and DIY texts. There’s also one section of shelves completely dedicated to CD’s. I walk over to the shelves surrounding the fireplace and look at the wide variety of books. Some of the novels I recognize- Art of War, all of the Harry Potters, a couple by Jane Austen- while others, hidden in a second row behind those on obvious display, simply surprise me.
Who the hell is reading about ‘sexy fae guardians’ and what the hell is ‘knotting’?
I put the book, whose cover is nothing but wolves, back on the shelf and notice there are even more. There must be hundreds. I have to admit, I’m intrigued to say the least, making a mental note to ask if I can read one of them later. Stepping to the side, I move closer to the collection of CDs and my face breaks into a smile when I see that many of them are by bands that I know and love. The person that owns this house certainly has one hell of a collection on their hands.
The thought makes me stiffen slightly and my eyes narrow in speculation. Maybe the guys weren’t kidding when they compared him to Beast. He had a huge library too. And two sidekicks... I look around again, scared that some inanimate object is going to come to life and scare the bejeesus out of me. I look to the candle holders on the mantle above the fireplace and poke one for good measure, just to make sure.
Once I verify that I am, in fact, on my own, and there isn’t a curse on the house, I move back into the kitchen and decide to raid the pantry. It's a huge walk-in off to the side and holy jackpot, it isfull. Taking my time and looking over their collection of canned, jarred and dried foods, I find myself leaning towards the back corner, my mouth watering in anticipation.
“Someone in this house not only cooks... but bakes...”
Oh, for the love of cake, can I keep you?
There is a huge, glass jar filled to the brim with freshly baked cookies. You can tell the difference between store-bought and homemade and these babies were made with love. I end up taking three - hey I'm not gonna be greedy - and make my way back out to the kitchen and sit at the island.
“Oh my Lord, these are good...” I moan through my bite, thoroughly enjoying the sugary goodness when I’m startled by a hard *thunk*sound coming from outside.
“What the hell?” *thunk*
I look around trying to pinpoint the direction of the sound and conclude its definitely coming from somewhere outside of the house. I take my last cookie on the journey with me through the craftsman style kitchen and towards the sound.
I find myself drawn towards the absolutely gigantic floor to ceiling windows at the far end of the kitchen. They cover the entire expanse of the far wall and look out onto the homestead and the forest of trees beyond. My eyes, however, do not drift to the surrounding landscape, but rather to what is, now, directly in front of me. Needless to say, I’m not ready for what my eyes linger on.
“Oh, holy hotness, what the fuck is in the water down here?”
Outside the window stands a beast of a specimen. Over 6 foot, beautifully tanned skin, dark jeans loose on his hips, shirt haplessly tucked into his back pocket, backwards baseball cap, dark stubble covering his jawline, and the piece de resistance – muscles for daysandtattoos. He’s even sporting that delicious V dip that leads to the promise land hidden in his pants... meet my wet dreams ladies and gentlemen.
He’s out there chopping wood, which makes the weird *thunk*sounds make sense now. Come to think about it, he must have been out there for a while because he has a deliciouslayer of fresh sweat caressing his skin now.
I need to have a little one on one with my vagina about respecting people’s boundaries and not thinking about jumping these guys in their sleep but the bitch is not listening to me. I need a cold shower, or a drink or, fuck it, both right about now...stat.
Or just a fuck, you silly siren...
“Shut your filthy mouth and be grateful ya horny bitch! They might not even like me like that.”
Hawk and Cole seemed to be pretty friendly yesterday...
The thunking of the wood being chopped brings me back to reality and out of my vagina monologues. I focus back on the man outside and gasp when I notice he’s looking right at me. Not moving. The utter intensity of his piercing gaze makes my mouth dry up and my heart start hammering in my chest. Prey in the predator’s sights.
