"Ash," he breathed, "We're getting dangerous here."
"No head?"
Something red flashed through his eyes, as the corners of his mouth tugged into a smile. "You're going to give me head, whether you like it or not. I meant that we can't turn back after...
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Later that morning, right before I had to go off to school, he went back to normal again. To the Kye I hated with all my heart. To the Kye that made me want to repeatedly hit him in the gut and in the junk until he wasn't fertile no more.
I was making breakfast, my heart a bit scared but still swollen in my chest, and I decided it'd be cool if I made him a sandwich as well. That was normal, right? He let me stay in his house, even if it wasn't entirely voluntary from my part, and claimed he fought off dogs for me, for a long time.
He even couldn't make love anymore, he said!
So, it wasn't all that weird to do a little something in return and make him a sandwich.
He was showering, and somehow, I couldn't stop picturing him naked. His ripped body and his broad shoulders and every single one of his muscles, before I lowered down to the more indecent parts. Would it have veins over it? And hair, too, would it be like the hair on his head? I wondered how it would feel inside. Just for scientific interest. That bulge in his boxers, it indicated something rather, rather, one might say inhumanly large. But my vision probably betrayed me.
Oh, and I shouldn't forget that guys nature. It wouldn't even surprise me he stuffed a few socks in there before facing me. He must have. No one was that big.
Wait.
Why the hell was I thinking of this when the matter of the rogues was very much more significant? More present? Bigger?
Shut up, stupid Ashley.
I carefully placed the lettuce leaf on Kye's sandwich, and a tomato. Or maybe two. No, that'd be overdoing it. I wouldn't want him to think I did my best for him. No, I should put two on the other one instead.
Boiled egg, sliced, onto the bread. Alright! A bit of salt and pepper. Wouldn't want to make it too flashy, but still tasty enough for him to praise me. Cucumber? Cucumber.
I thought I was ready to face the embodiment of all my humiliation again as soon as he stepped into the kitchen but guess what? I wasn't. My fingers instantly started getting clumsy and I almost cut them with the knife I was washing off.
His black hair was still damp, his skin glowed, and his eyes were hooded. Crazy sexy, if he wasn't such an asshole inside.
"Making breakfast, huh?" He slipped his hand under his loose shirt and leaned over the counter to watch me struggle with the knife. "Two?"
Of course, he noticed immediately.
"I probably only need one. You can have one if-"
"I don't eat sandwiches," he shut me up, and waved dismissively with his hand. "Guess you'll have to throw it away."
I blinked at him, all my hopes crumbling. Well, okay, a weird human being who didn't eat sandwiches. Not the end of the world.
