Page 20 of CowSex
“Jesus fucking Christ, excuse my language, but Lord, what in the actual fuck are you trying to do to me?”
I take a sip of my bourbon and enjoy the heat as it slides down my throat and warms my belly.
Her bedroom was freezing when I found her lying there. The vent still closed. She obviously hadn’t been able to reach it, and I didn’t want her getting cold in the night, so I opened the vent and then attempted to wake her by gently shaking her shoulder. She didn’t stir. Without trying to look too hard at her creamy skin, those little panties, or her ink, I pulled back the blankets on one side of the bed and then carefully moved her so I could pull the blankets over her.
She’d really needed more ice on that wrist, but there was no way of holding it in place while she slept. Instead, I slid a pillow underneath her arm, in an attempt to keep it raised.
I’d watched her sleep for a few seconds, feeling like a total creep while I took her in but unable to do a damn thing about it.
Her hair was an unusual colour, almost a silvery-grey and there were some pink and purple stripes in her braids.
Her lashes fanned out across her high cheekbones, and with her cute little turned-up nose, she’d looked almost sweet, which was a fuckin’ joke really. She might be a little-bit, but that hadn’t curbed the ballsy attitude and cussing she’d handed out to me earlier.
Feeling like the biggest perv on the planet, I eventually quit staring and brought up her last remaining suitcase and some fresh towels.
With one final glance, I left her to sleep. Then I locked up the house for the second time that night and took myself off to bed—after I’d had a shower and spent ten minutes jacking off to thoughts of the English Duchess with attitude racing through my head—both of them.
I finish my drink and give myself a shake before pouring another. She isn’t what I need in my life. Not now—hell, not at any time.
My eyes slide towards the entryway into the kitchen as she walks through it. The braids are gone, replaced with what looks like a silvery-grey, pink and purple striped rat’s nest on top of her head. It’s kinda cute.
She’s wearing a pair of thin grey sweats, which are tucked into a pair of pale pink sheepskin boots from Australia that everyone wears. I think they are called Gangsters, or Thugs, something like that. Her top is a darker grey, and it looks all soft and fluffy. It hangs off one shoulder to reveal a pink tank top underneath.
Never in my life have I taken so much notice of what a woman is wearing, let alone whether it’s fluffy, and I feel like a complete pussy for doing it now.
“I overslept,” she announces, and I’m so lost in my thoughts of her that I almost jump out of my skin.
“No shit, it’s nearly four in the afternoon.”
Her cheeks turn pink, almost matching the colour of her lips, and I wonder if they coordinate with her nipples. Fuck, I hope so.
“I thought I packed some paracetamol, but I can’t find them. Would you have any?”
I shake my head. “I’m not sure I know what that is.” Judging by the way she’s holding her wrist, I could almost assume it’s some kind of painkiller. “That causing you trouble?”
She nods. “Yeah, it hurts. That’s what I wanted the paracetamol for, it’s a painkiller.”
“Like Tylenol?”
This time she shrugs.
“I think so. Anything will do, to be honest. Ecstasy, cocaine, ketamine…......I’d take about anything right now if I thought it’d help.”
My eye twitches at the mention of all those drugs. If that’s her thing, if that’s what she’s into...she can get the fuck out of my house right now.
“I’ve got none of that shit, but I can offer you some Tylenol.”
“Thank you.”
She seems like a different person today. All of her ballsiness and bravado seem to have deserted her, and I can’t help but feel a little disappointed.
“You need to eat something before you take any more medication.”
I get up and take the Tylenol from the drawer and hand her two.
“Yeah, you’re probably right. Are there any shops near here? I’ll nip out and get something.”
“You sure you didn’t hit your head when you fell last night, too?”
