Not even overbearing parents, power-obsessed criminals, or amnesia could keep these two apart. But, at some point, you have to think, was this even meant to be?
(WARNING: There will be cursing, graphic language and mature content.)
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I woke up in a dark room.
The black curtains covered the rising sun's light. I laid still breathing in the musky scent of the room and the male cuddling beside me.
With my back against the bed, I slowly turn my head towards the sleeping man and twisted in his arms to completely face him. His soft black hair covered his closed eyes. A scar traced from his eyebrow to the corner of his eye. Soft breaths left his lips. I slowly graze my fingertip down his nose, across his sharp jawline, then the outline of his lips. I kept tracing more of his facial features for a few minutes then I looked to his eyes. His black eyes stared into mine. After a few seconds, I giggled.
"Good morning." A wide grin made on my face and my eyes closed into a smile.
He didn't say anything at first. He lifted his hand to my cheek and softly pinched it. "Morning." He said then lifted himself up. The blanket moved revealing his muscular, tattooed back. He hunched over on the bedside and let out a low groan.
"Does is still hurt? Do you want me to get the aid kit?" I tried to leave the bed but Emerson quickly grabbed my arm and pulled me back down.
"I'm fine." He released a small smile then kissed my forehead. My eyes close as he stays there for a moment then goes to the bathroom locking it.
I rolled my eyes then got up to grab my aid kit from the closet's top shelf. After struggling a bit because of my short stature, I finally grabbed it. I also grabbed my own clothes and waited until Emerson got out.
Once the door opened, the bathroom light illuminated the room and Emerson walked out. His wet hair was dripping and in a sexy mess, and his drool-worthy abs on display. Too bad the towel was hiding the grand prize.
I hid the kit behind my back, watching him walk to the closet grabbing some clothes then walk out wearing a pair of boxers. "Come here." I motioned him towards me. He walked in front of me and threw his clothes on the bed beside me then crossed his arms.
I pulled the kit from behind me. I heard Emerson growl,"I told you I was fine."
I shrugged then pulled the bandage from the spot above his hip bone on his side. The small stab wound was sewed and bruised. I used a wet cotton swab to remove the dried blood, applied antibacterial cream, then reapplied a clean bandage. It's the best I could do since I'm no doctor but I did learn a lot after doing this for years.
Emerson let out a relieved sigh, his body loosened from its usual tense position. He pulls my hands to his lips and kiss them gently before uttering a low "thank you."
"You're welcome," I grinned then I got off the bed and started walking towards the bathroom with my own clothes in my arms. Emerson grabbed my arm and pulled me against him. One hand held my cheek but the other hand was holding me against him, slowly trailing from my lower back to my butt. His eyes held mine, they were dark and sensual. With a tight squeeze, he let go then went to finish getting dressed.
