just happened. Fuck, what have I done?
After a moment, Darren rolled off me, and I quickly excused myself to the
bathroom.
When I came back with my teeth and hair brushed, I found Darren packing my
cards back into their little box. He’d put on a pair of black sweatpants that hung low
on his hips, giving me a perfect view of that hard v of his abdomen. I suddenly felt
too exposed and grabbed the black silk robe hanging from the bedpost, wrapping it
around my now cold body. I hunched my shoulders and rubbed my arms for
emphasis.
“You didn’t eat your dinner,” Darren said as he sealed the cards into the box.
“Wasn’t hungry,” I replied with a shrug.
“What are the rules?” he countered, his eyes piercing me with a challenge.
I sighed. Fucking five-year-old rules. “Not to leave the table until my plate is
clean.”
“And now, you’re not going to leave my lap until it’s clean.”
“Huh?” But that was the only word I got out before he picked me up, threw me
over his shoulder, and walked over to the table by the Christmas tree.
I groaned. “One day, I’m going to make you regret picking me up like this.” I
always hated being carried this way. It didn’t matter how meaty Darren’s shoulders
were. They still pushed into my stomach, and it was beyond uncomfortable.
“And you’ll regret it even more if you try,” he said, swatting me on the ass.
I rolled my eyes. He couldn’t see them from back here.
It only took him a few strides to get to the table, lowering me onto his lap as he
sat down. Darren then lifted the lid to my dinner to reveal roasted chicken and
potatoes and mixed vegetables. Working around me, he cut everything into tiny
bites, and I couldn’t help but smile. It was kind of funny that he was taking into
consideration I preferred my bites smaller than his. He forked a piece of chicken
and held it up to my lips.
“Open,” he ordered.
I complied and parted my lips to take his offering. Even though the chicken was
now lukewarm, it was still damn good. I chewed quickly while he began spearing a
few vegetables with the fork.
“I can feed myself, you know,” I muttered, covering my mouth with my hand as
I swallowed.
“Obviously not. Now open.”
Pursing my lips in protest, I let it go and opened them to accept the veggies.
They were crunchy and a bit salty—just the way I liked them. Darren feeding me
like this was strange. I almost felt pampered, like a precious thing to be cared for
and cherished, and I didn’t know if I liked it. I was too independent for this kind of
shit. But whatever; he was being nice to me, so I should accept it.
Darren held another forkful of potatoes to my lips, but I covered my mouth,
swallowing the last bite I could muster before my stomach burst. I shook my head.
“I can’t take another bite. I’m so full,” I pleaded. Only a few bites were left on
my plate, but I had already pushed myself past my limit. This chef overestimated
how much I could eat.
“Please?” Darren pressed, but it was nice in his own way. His voice held concern,
but there was a bit of humor in his plead.
“Only because you actually said please,” I said carefully and opened my mouth
to close it around the fork.
“Good girl,” he praised, kissing me at the temple. “Now, it’s bath time.”
“Bath time?” I replied, looking at him confused.
“Yes,” he said and then stood, easily lifting me into his arms and carrying me to
the bathroom.
I groaned again. “Ugh, you know, I can walk, too,” I complained.
Darren ignored my comment and set me down on the bathroom counter. “You’ll
walk when I allow it,” he replied and then turned his back to turn the faucet of the
Jacuzzi tub on. The bathroom was another testament to the house. It kept up the
same log cabin walls, except for the brown stone tile that bordered the walls around
the tub. The only window in the bathroom was a skylight in the ceiling, giving a
lovely view of the night sky.
Opening one of the many cabinets, Darren grabbed some bath oil and poured it
into the tub before returning it to the cabinet. When the bath was halfway full, I
took the initiative of removing my robe and hopping off the counter while Darren
removed his pants. I headed over to the bathtub, knowing I’d end up in it anyway.
Might as well be on my terms. But the moment I took a single step forward, Darren
stopped me, taking my body in his arms and blocking me.
“What did I just say?” he nearly growled. I felt my eyebrows shoot up.
“Seriously?”
Darren responded by picking me up, again, and cradled me against his chest as
he strode over to the tub. “Seriously,” he replied and stepped into the tub. Gently
easing us into the tub, Darren placed me between his legs and pulled my shoulders
back to rest
