46 Sets of Teeth

1: Long Road Ahead

When my eyes open from my not-so-restful sleep, I roll over expecting to feel the warm caramel skin of Marcus. When my skin didn't meet his, I sat up on shock.

"Marcus?" I call. I toss the feather top pillow blanket over my legs, so I could swing off the bed. Reaching into my nightstand I pull out my 9 mil. Glock, and headed toward the kitchen.

My heart started to race when I heard soothing whistling. I point my gun at the back of a chiseled, black haired male. I sighed and dropped my aim. It was on safe anyways. I plopped the gun on the kitchen counter and slid my hands around Marcus' abs.

"Scared you that bad, huh?" I shook my head against his back in approoval. He turns and plants a warm wet kiss on my lips and smiles as he pulls away. "I'm sorry. I wanted to let you sleep. I didn't mean to startle you."

"No, I should've known. Its been a long couple days." I pause and kiss him again. "Please continue." I said softly. "I gotta get dressed for work."

"What! No, I'm making breakfast." He pouts.

"Babe, you know I have to work. I cant be late." I kiss him one more time and walk back to the bedroom in my too big tee shirt and g-strings.

"Wear something nice!" He called.

"I have to, I'm meeting the board today. I'm picking up a new assignment."

"Really? Do you know what?"

"Something to do with a criminally insane patient."

"God, I hate your job." I open almost a dozen draws to find my black camisole. I waltzed into the bathroom and scoured for my gel handled hair brush. Looking up at the large twin sink mirror, I stare at my Burgundy curls, all messy from the nights sleep.

"Babe, I'm thinking about dying my hair." I hear him pad down the hallway on the cherry wood floors. He walks up behind me and laces his fingers through my hair.

"Why would you ever want to do that?"

"I don't like my hair." I cry.

"Your hair frames your face, its beautiful and I wouldn't have you anyother way." A smile tried to show on my lips but my thoughts forced it away. I couldn't help but wonder if I like my job. Of course, it pays the bills but is that really what I want to do for the rest of my life?

"Breakfast is almost done....so hurry." He kisses my head and leaves the bathroom.

When I finish getting dressed and applying a small coat of makeup, I walk to the dining room. When I pull out my seat to sit down, I remember my gun. I turn around, grab it, and slide it into to my waist holster. I pick up my fork and shovel my bacon, eggs, and hashbrowns down my throat. Marcus sits on the couch and reads a book.

"Thank you for breakfast." I say as I place my plate in the sink. He chuckles under his breath. "What's so funny?" I ask defensively.

"You scarfed it down, probably didn't even taste it."

"Of course I tasted it. The eggs had salt and cyan pepper in it. The bacon was maple. The hashbrowns were salty and crunchy. The way they should be." He closes his book and tossed it onto the coffee table. He rises with a twinge of hate running through his exoticaly handsome eyes.

"Whatever. Don't be late for work." He walks out of the living room and slowly to the bedroom. What did I do? I aggressively grab my hand bag and slam the front door. I race to my electric blue Lotus Elise, and turned over the engine. The purr of the car expresses the purr of a tiger. Exotic and graceful. I quickly pull out of the driveway before I go back inside and blow up on Marcus.