C.E.O Piggy

⇠Baby, it's cold Outside ⇢

When Christopher awoke, he had to bite his lower lip to keep from gasping. His fuzzy mind was racing at a hundred miles per hour, and he was snuggled up in Blake's arms in bed. Christopher tried to recall the previous night, but his fuzzy mind couldn't concentrate. All it seemed to notice was the man a few inches in front of him. He was in bed with his boss; were they now a couple? Which wouldn't be so bad for Christopher, who has had a thing for the billionaire since he was employed. Christopher froze as the other shifted over in their sleep, giving Christopher a clear view of his back. The elder man's back was covered in scars that ran from his shoulders down to his lower back. He traced a finger down the big pinkish-white scar that went along Blake's spine, then spread out to his ribs and stomach. Christopher didn't understand why he was surprised; everyone has scars. He concluded that it was because he wasn't expecting a man with everything to be scared in the first place. Half of Christopher was curious about what had transpired, what had created each scar, and kissed them away. But that would risk upsetting Blake, and an offended Morningstar meant death.

Christopher hadn't realized I'd rolled over until his hand was on my chest. We both stared down at his hand, and Christopher squeaked before swiftly retracting it. "Sorry, I was only interested." He stumbled.

"I thought I previously told you not to touch me." I snapped, pushing myself out of bed and into the bathroom.

"Great now he's in a foul mood," Christopher sighed, throwing his arm over his face. He paused before tearing off his blankets and heading downstairs. He should make breakfast and wait for Blake to come down so he can grovel and beg as he always does when the "prince" is unhappy.

Christopher had to tighten his grasp on the pan an hour later as I arrived in the kitchen to keep himself from dropping it at the sight of me. I was dressed in a loose T-shirt that hugged my tummy and revealed a little of my underbelly with gray faded sweatpants. Swallowing, he swiftly turned away, returning his gaze to the over, sneaking a glance as I entered the living room. My ass now appeared to be the size of two enormous throw pillows, taking up the majority of the couch. Quickly plating the food, he scrambled into the living room. Setting it on the table in front of me. "Made you're favorite," I announced. "Plus, some extra..." He thought to himself with a snicker.

I grumbled at Christopher and picked up the dish, surfing through the channels as I ate. Christopher stood there watching me shovel food into my mouth, syrup dribbling off the fork onto my shirt. "This man is going to be my undoing...Look, I'm sorry about this morning," He groaned. "I was simply intrigued." He stated.

"Curiosity killed the cat," I said emphatically.

"You can't blame me for being intrigued, Blake; no one has ever gotten this close to you. If we're going to be together, you should stop being so reserved and start talking to me." Christopher grumbled.

"If I hadn't been stabbed in the back so many times, I wouldn't have to be so cautious," I responded with a deep growl.

"You don't want to be together right now? Was all that drunken stuff about you loving me a lie?" Christopher yelled.

I put down my fork and let it bang on the half-empty plate before turning my gaze to the younger man. "Stop twisting my words to get your way and making me look like a jerk." I insisted.

"If you stop being a fucking silver spoon baby, maybe I will!" He yelled.

"It's not my fault that I was born wealthy." Standing, I said.

"It's all your fault!" You parade around acting as if you're better than everyone because you're wealthy. You're a fucking jerk, that's for sure! It's no surprise that no one liked you!" Christopher yelled.