Desiree
Ijolted awake, a sharp invisible nudge from beyond acting as my alarm clock. The ticking hands that I narrowly made out on the old-fashioned wall clock displayed 5:05 a.m. A sense that I was being watched lingered over me, making me rub my hands up and down my arms more for security than warmth.
After dragging myself into and out of the restroom, I padded down to the kitchen. Since I hadn’t had dinner last night, I was hungry enough to eat my own liver if it was seasoned right.
When I stepped into the kitchen, I was stopped in my tracks, my feet shuffling from the ongoing momentum. My leg jolted blindly after the slipper that had slipped off my foot, but my eyes were aimed at the figure before me.
The man’s face, part of it, was cast in shadow from the position he sat in behind the table. I was unable to see his eyes clearly, but based on what I saw, his dark beard surrounded a set of tempting deep pink lips. The hair on his face was short enough that it didn’t hide his pronounced jaw line that gave a hint at his handsomeness. His features, the ones I saw, was a vision I allowed to soak in. He was as interesting to observe as his house.
“Good morning. I’m Desiree,” I greeted, fumbling around my scattered brain for the right words. I was sure he already knew my name, but I introduced myself anyway.
Had my presence frozen him in shock? Was I imagining it or was he more surprised to see me than I was to see him?
His brow lifted before his eclipsed gaze strolled over my body and reminded me that I had left my room in a strange house without a robe. In nothing but my thin blue cotton sleep set that hugged everything, I was giving him a peek at all of my goods. I crossed my arms over my chest and folded myself into my shoulders as much as I could.
“Good morning. Khane,” he finally spoke. Although his tone was low, his deep voice vibrated across my skin. I sensed his shadowed eyes observing every part of me.
I was too far into the situation to run now, so I decided to step forward. I pointed at the chair across the table from him. I attempted to, but failed to push out the words waiting on my tongue. Sitting would allow me to hide at least a part of my overexposed body.
“May I join you?” I asked. Why was I feeling shy all of a sudden? I wasn’t as bold as I had been in my younger years, but wasn’t timid either, until now. His eyes on me sent a lively vibe through me that I’d never experienced and couldn’t find the right words to describe, but I think I liked it.
He nodded, and I sat quickly. Lady, the grumpy woman from yesterday, must have cooked the delicious-looking food displayed on the table. The table was pre-set with place settings, enough for four people, although I don’t believe Khane was the kind of man that entertained guest.
Although my gaze was aimed at his chest, I sensed that his eyes had never strayed away from me. Stuck in indecision, I had to drop my arms to reach for the plate sitting in front of me. I needed to do anything but sit there like an idiot.
Fuck it.
I reached for the plate, aiming my chest at the table’s edge to do so. As I suspected, his gaze had dropped to my tits where my hard nipples pressed against my shirt were saying hello to him.
“I didn’t think anyone would be down here this early in the morning, so…” I said, glancing down at myself, ashamed now that I’d been caught underdressed.
“Understood,” he replied. “I’m an early riser,” he added, for my benefit, I’m sure. Thankfully, he had planted his gaze on my face. I may have been raised by a street savage, but I still had some modesty left in me.
Now that I had a clear view of his face, I noticed an oddity in his eyes. Were they different colors? I fought not to aim my face closer as I projected my gaze to see him clearly. He didn’t recoil or move as I allowed my curiosity to make me rude.
Was he blind in the left eye? I couldn’t tell. Where one eye was brown, the other was a greyish-brown, a touch of death among a live canvas.
The eye fit him. It gave him an unnatural pop of liveliness that made him unique, different, uncommon. Of course, I didn’t tell this man what my outside-the-box brain was thinking.
He was a good-looking man for someone who supposedly ate people. I’d expected a man with his reputation to have developed into a wrong turn reject with sores all over his face, an extra arm, and a hump on his back. Anything but the difficult to describe man in front of me.
He had a wild look about him. Hard as forged steel and deadlier than a fired bullet. Intensely all male with a strong, solid frame he’d covered with a black, long-sleeved button-up. He had rolled the sleeves up to his elbows, his skin a landscape of tattoos on the exposed areas. I adjusted in my seat, my eyes refusing to part from him.
His nose had a small crook in it, but it fit his bearded face. His good eye at a distance was a noticeable reddish-brown that reminded me of hot ambers. His skin, the part that wasn’t covered with ink, didn’t hide that he was nicely tanned. My fiancé was sun-kissed, but Khane was much toastier. Did they have a different father or mother?
He ate in silence, checking me out while I caught myself discreetly checking him out. I nibbled on a piece of bacon while losing control of my probing eyes. Although I tried to be discrete about it, I didn’t feel guilty for checking out the brother of the man I was supposed to be marrying.
Khane stood, making his chair grunt and causing me to jump. Was I staring too hard?
He marched from the room, leaving me confused. Had I upset him?
“I wasn’t trying to be offensive,” I muttered under my breath. I just thought he was interesting. How would he know that, Desiree?
Had I interrupted his alone time? Was he gathering his cutting kit to add me to his freezer of dead human meat he was storing up for the winter?
The quick hard thumps of his footsteps grew louder, alerting his return. When he stormed back into the room, at my back this time, I froze. I sensed he had something in his hand but didn’t want to see or know what that something was.
I glanced at the fluffy scrambled eggs and the fat biscuit I had added to my plate, praying I didn’t see my own blood spatter in them before I took my last breath.