Page 76 of Renascence
“Good morning, darlin’.”
He doesn’t look up from his work, so I drag myself out of bed and to the bathroom. There was no sex last night. I don’t know if he was giving me what I asked for or if I fucked things up. No emotions. That was the deal. I not only asked for cuddles, I cried. I fucking cried.
Shit, I’m such a…woman.
Shaking my head, I grab a robe and make my way to the kitchen.Breakfast. That should take my mind off things.I gather some eggs and veggies for omelets, along with bacon. There are some blueberries in the fridge, so I grab those also.
Muffins. That’s it. I’ll make him some blueberry muffins with a streusel topping. I haven’t baked in a while, and as I work on the batter, I must say, it feels good. It feelsgreat. By the time I slide the tray into the oven, I’m humming a tune as I work. Venom walks in when I’m adding the vegetables to the eggs.
“Mmm… smells good in here.”
“Thanks.” I keep my eyes on the pan, nerves jittery as I wait for him to speak again. I only hope when he does, it’s not to chase me off.
“Lose the robe, Em.”
I can’t stop my smile. There’s my answer. He’s not pissed at me.
Like the good girl I am, I slide it off and toss it aside. He’s brought his work with him, so I leave him be, concentrating on his breakfast. When I start plating, he issues another order.
“Lose the nightgown, too.”
My hands falter, but I regain my composure enough to finish. Taking a deep breath, I pull the nightie off, sending it to join the robe. I pick up both plates, slowly making my way to the table. Venom’s gaze is sliding up and down my body, the heat sending a shiver up my spine. His crotch draws my attention, the tented sweatpants a clear indication that he likes what he sees.
Me.
Go figure. I don’t think I’ll ever get over how much he wants me. My body. The one I’ve thought flawed for so long, that I’ve been killing myself to improve. Yet Venom comes along and thinks it’s perfect. Even if I don’t believe it, he does, and I believe in him.
I take my seat, shifting in discomfort when his eyes settle on my breasts.
“We should talk,” he announces.
“About?”
“Last night.”
Gulp. “I’m sorry—”
“Emily,” he stops me. “I meant the next item on your list.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. “Oh.”
“You had a few drinks in you. I just want to make sure you want to go ahead.”
“You mean… you can arrange it?”
“Of course. I intend to keep my promise, darlin’. You have a preference?”
“Preference?”
“The girl. Blonde, brunette, redhead… tall, short, skinny, thick… tattoos?”
I blink and keep blinking because I can’t believe the topic of our conversation. It’s like he’s ordering me a pizza and wants to know what toppings I like.
“Do you even like girls?”
“Um… I don’t know. I guess I was just caught up in the moment.”
“Is that why your nipples are hard right now?” he asks, lips curled in a playful grin.
