Page 35 of Ghost
She scoffed.“You’re the one draped over me.”
“I don’t hear any complaints.”His voice vibrated against her spine, warm and delicious.
“Consider this a complaint.”Just then, her stomach rumbled loudly.
Ghost chuckled.“Is that you complaining or your stomach?”
“Being as I haven’t eaten in forty-eight hours, the latter.”
His laughter stopped and his hand retreated.“Shit.”
He rolled onto his elbow, and the movement made her rock onto her back so she was staring up at him.His dark hair was disheveled, his eyebrows low over those penetrating gray eyes that made her heart dance and question her sanity.
The bristles on his jaw were longer than yesterday, but their unkempt appearance only added to his sex factor.Hot.That’s what he was.
Dangerously, deadly, infuriatingly hot.
“I guess that means I have to feed you.”
The need for food quickly replaced every other need her traitorous body had conjured.“That’d be counterproductive to you killing me,” she said pointedly.
His mouth twitched.“You callin’ my bluff?”
She swished her lips to the side.“Kinda.But the question remains.Are you going to keep me prisoner forever?”
Any trace of humor left his face.His jaw tensed, and he shifted into a sitting position.Delving into his pocket, he pulled out the key to the handcuffs.In one quick movement, he fit it into the lock and her wrist was free.
“Go use the bathroom or do whatever you need to do.I’ll be downstairs.”The hard edge to his voice sent a quake through her.
She shouldn’t have asked.
CHAPTER 11
In the bathroom,Mila rolled the sweatpants down twice at the waist.The T-shirt still smelled like Ghost—warm, masculine, and earthy.
A forty-eight-hour fast hadn’t been in her plans, yet here she was.Despite the rumbling in her stomach, she didn’t trust that she wouldn’t get nauseated if she ate.Funny, she hadn’t been hungry all day yesterday.It wasn’t until she’d slept warmly and safely in Ghost’s bed, with him snuggled around her like a blanket, that her nervous system had relaxed enough to allow her body to indicate hunger.
Strange, considering he was the reason she was in her current situation.
She brushed her teeth and resisted the urge to obsess over her appearance—there were dark circles beneath her eyes, her skin was sallow, her hair scraggly.Looks wouldn’t keep her alive right now.
Actually, if he wants to fuck me, he might want to keep me alive.
Booting that thought from her head before it took root, she popped open the bathroom door and then made her way downstairs.The floorboards creaked as she walked to the kitchen.The comforting smell of coffee and the sound of sizzling meat wrapped her in a warm hug.
Ghost stood at the island, a bowl full of eggs in front of him and a fork in hand.“Coffee’s there.”He nodded briskly at the steaming white mug on the counter in front of a barstool.
Cream and sugar also sat out.She took a seat and wrapped her hands around the hot ceramic.She watched as he beat the eggs, the muscles in his forearm tense.Butter crackled in the skillet.He turned and poured the eggs into a separate pan.
She finally dared to break the silence.“You didn’t have to cook for me.”
He picked up a spatula and flipped the meat.“It’s fine.I had leftover steak from last night.”
She poured some cream into her brew.She wasn’t much of a coffee drinker.Actually, the caffeine combined with watching Ghost work around the kitchen would probably make her heart beat out of her chest.
She sipped the coffee, and its heat touched her bones.A few minutes later, Ghost took plates out of a cupboard, dropped bread in the toaster, and began dishing out their meals.
He slid a plate across the counter to her and handed her a fork.
