Her Reign: A Mafia Love Story

Meeting Hunter

I wake up to the smell of bacon and eggs, confused and well rested. I climb out of bed, and stretch out. Belatedly, I realize that I'm going to have to get ready for the day with what was given to me. I'm worried, it's all too expensive and confusing. I'll just stick to the basics.

I step into the bathroom and gaze at my appearance. Nothing much, but I look well rested, at least. I splash water on my face and use the toilet before stripping down and climbing into the shower.

Hot water fans over me. The shower is obnoxiously large, but it feels good. I rake my finger though my air, and eye the shampoo laid out for me. Taking a generous amount, I lather it into my hair, piling it optop my head and leaning back to ensure the soap doesn't get into my eyes. It smells like fresh rain and flowers, very silky and it slips though my roots.

I then rinse, and grab the conditioner. It's silky and leaves my hair wonderly soft. I rinse it out again, and step out of the shower smelling like spring.

I look at the copious amount of skin care products and makeup, debating on where I should indulge in the various creams and salves. I settle on some mascara and lip balm, but not before splashing my face and twisting my hair up into a bun. Two strains fall out of it, framing my face.

I wander towards the closet, already intimated by the piles of designer hand bags and high heeled shoes. I push though the sparkles and ruffles and land on a nice sundress, with blue pinstripes and tick traps that tie into a bow to make a halter top.

I don't wear shoes, but pick out a pair of white converse to lay out. I don't want to have to go though the trouble of finding some normal clothes again.

The smell of bacon and eggs grows stronger and my stomach growls. Well, growls maybe isn't the right word. It's a faint angry purr that snaps me out of my thoughts.

I walk down the stairs, and see someone buissing themselves in the kitchen from my perch half way down the stairs.

Getting closer, I can see him more clearly. He's shirtless. Though his back is facing me, I can see the ripple of muscles as he moves about. Thick apron straps criss cross, tied into a knot right above his waist. Thin gray sweat pants hug his ass, tight in all the right places. I rip my eyes from his butt and try and get myself together.

He turns around, and chocolate eyes seem to peer into my soul. They're guarded and quizzical, yet strangely welcoming. Thick eyelashes frame them, and furrowed, perfectly shaped eyebrows quirk slightly. His jaw sharp and his lips are full, pursed into a small smile.

The apron does little to hide his chest. I can see his muscled torso clearly, at least a six pack if not an eight. His pecs are huge, and dusty rose nipples peak out from under it.

His gray sweatpants are slung low on his hips, and a dusting of hair trails down, leading my gaze down to the sizable bulge.

He clears his throat, and I can already tell he has a low voice. I look up, ashamed at my ogling.

"Good morning," He smiles at me and my heart melts at the sight. Something tells me to savor the moment, his eyes are guarded but he eyes me with an emotion I can't quite put my finger on.

"Ah, uh, good morning," I manage, eyes wide. He turns back around and I have to look away to stop my self from staring at his ass again. He's got a butt... and he can cook! My heart swoons. Shut up, my brain fires back.

He busies himself with the pans, and when he turns around his holding two plates piled high with food.

"Made you some breakfast," His voice is smooth and velvety and my breath catches.