The Pursuit

Seventeen

⬻Maggie⤖

Maggie sat out on the porch for the rest of the day. She found herself staring into the blue ocean around her. You're in paradise, with a demi-god and you can't control yourself, she furrowed her brow and felt herself deplete.

Damien had left her alone when they came back, busying himself with whatever he was doing. Maggie thought back to the young mother who coddled her child. She felt the pain in her chest rise again and then the pull of the depression on the horizon.

"Hey," Damien called from the screen door. Maggie turned her head and saw him standing in the doorway, wearing a feminine floral apron on his big frame. Maggie bursted out with a laugh. Her hand went to cover the escaping mocking noise.  She found herself laughing at him as he stood there, his face flat and not happy. Her laugh boomed out of her throat and she pointed to him and the apron. It's too much floral for the huntsman !

Maggie could feel her chest relax and her heartbeat pulse. "You look ridiculous!", she shrieked. "That apron!", she cried in hysterics.  Damien crossed his arms not finding the situation as funny as Maggie. The apron's lace lining contrasted against his bulging muscles.

"It's not polite to laugh at someone the way you're laughing at me", he said sternly. A smile breaking through his rough exterior, his feelings not hurt entirely.

Maggie calmed her laughter down and looked back at him. The apron so mismatched to his rough exterior. "I can't, I can't" she said ending her laughter and waving her hand in the air.

Damien let out a small laugh and uncrossed his arms. He walked towards her and stretched out his hand. Maggie instinctively took it and felt the warmth from him. She felt the black hole in her chest slowly fill with her feelings for Damien. Careful, now, don't wanna keep fucking things up, she told herself.

She stood and then retracted her hand from his. He searched her eyes for a reaction but she stood and looked down at her hands. "I was going to ask you if you wanted to come in for dinner", he grabbed her hands and held them loosely.

Maggie could feel herself react to his touch. He dragged his thumbs across her skin and she felt herself become soothed by the repetitive motion. She looked up and met his gaze. How does he do that ?

"I ran out and grabbed a few things while you were out here. Hope you don't mind my speciality, chicken florentine", he smiled with his  eyes and then shifted his hands to firmly enveloped them around Maggie's. "There are only a few things I do well in the kitchen, and cooking is one of them", he declared confidently. "You wanna know what else I do well?" he raised his eyebrows and wiggled them suggestively.

Maggie felt her arousal for him heighten to a peak and she had the urge to move her hands to his chest but she resisted. "What's that?" she asked with bated breath.

Damien dropped her hands and brought his hands to his hips, "Rock the shit out of aprons". He turned and walked away, "Come on, dinner's getting cold, and I gotta make sure the baby's fed before bedtime", he snickered and got to the porch door.

Maggie walked to him and as she turned into the house she threw him the middle finger. You're just a game to him, she scolded herself.