Poke the Bear
"I need to go meet someone. I'll drop you home first." Dakota informs me, urgently.
I feel a dip in my stomach as he stands up, tall and straight with a look of seriousness in his eyes.
"Okay.." Clutching my adorable sloth tightly against my chest, I follow him.
Dakota unlocks the car, and I quietly get inside myself while his thumbs fly furiously on the screen, typing with an urgency that seems to echo his troubled state of mind.
Eventually, he tucks his phone back into his pocket, and gets behind the steering wheel with an expression as hard as granite.
"Everything okay?" I ask him with concern laced my tone. I can't help but worry about the sudden change in him.
It's like someone provoked him, for a battle.
Bright green eyes draw at me, sharp and intense. There is a storm brewing behind those eyes, a chaos he is struggling to keep at bay.
Then, suddenly, Dakota leans towards me.
I inhale sharply at his sudden close proximity. His hot breath fans on my neck, as he reaches over, not for me, but for the seatbelt and with a click, secure me in it.
My heart pounds, not only from his unexpected move, but also from the erratic intensity he exudes, which is both alarming and compelling.
Dakota leans back to fasten his own seatbelt, then ignites the car and begins to drive.
The ride back to home is oddly silent, with brewing tension oozing from him. I sit there, holding my plushie a little tighter with a whirlwind of questions running through my mind.
I want to ask him what he was about to say before the message interrupted him. I want to know what is troubling him so deeply that he suddenly changed.
But I don't want to be the one to poke the bear.
The car slows down to the villa and stops right in the driveway.
"I'll ask Martina to come over to cook for you. Tell her I'll be dining out and will be late, so don't wait for me." His tone cold, yet his words seemed more like a notification for me rather than a message to pass on to Martina.
"Okay.. Thanks for today." I offer him a smile, but he only replies with a curt nod.
With a slight sense of unease, I slide out of my seat with the sloth. The car reverses and soon disappears from the driveway, leaving me all alone in his empty castle.
What was in that text?
I wonder before striding towards the empty castle.
True to his words, Martina arrives and with the help of my acting skills, I could request her to bake chocolate muffins for me, along with Mexican tacos.
She is such a sweetheart!
After she finishes cooking and cleaning, Martina leaves me with my dinner to Netflix and chill. About an hour later, the distant hum of a car engine reaches my ears, and I glance outside.
It's pitch dark.
It's that time of the night, when something awakens in Dakota.
A dark shadowy aura seems to take hold of him, transforming him into someone darker than Black.
That is both sinister and disturbing.
My heart sinks into my stomach, heavy with dread as I hear the front door slide open and the sound of footsteps echo to me in waves.
He is here.
My fingers dig into the softness of couch as Dakota appears in front of me with a cold-hearted expression. Something I have seen every night.
Fear grips me as his dark eyes meet mine and a chill runs down my spine at the thought of his violent alter ego surfacing again. It still haunts my skin.
Don't tell me he acted nicely all day, just to fuck me over ruthlessly for his revenge.
Please no, no, no!
Dakota takes a lazy stride towards the kitchen, before glancing briefly at the TV which is playing an episode of Rick and Morty.
"Had dinner?" He asks, fetching a glass of ice water and gulping it down almost wearily.
He looks extremely tired, like he is under bags of stress and workload.
"Yeah. And you?" I retort, turning off the television, in a hope to continue that conversation, which he left abruptly.
What exactly is he going through?
"Hmm." Dakota hums, twisting the empty glass in his hand, as if admiring its beauty, while chewing on the ice.
I watch him closely, trying to study his mood, but I couldn't decipher the climate in his head. All I sense is this unsettling energy radiating from him, exactly like watching an electric sparking wire hanging closely to the water.
"Emara."
And then his gaze finds me.
"Do you want to watch a movie together?"
His eyes heavy and dark, dripping with entrance, while I blink at him, absorbing the odd question fired at me.
"Um.. Okay. Cool." I pretend to be normal, while my mind is whirling like a fidget spinner.
Cool? WTF it's not cool!
This is as weird as Catwoman-having-a-tail!
"Eve, open the wine cabinet." Dakota commands smoothly, and more smoothly, the locked cabinet's door opens.
A click is being heard and with an effortless grace, he selects a lavish black bottle of wine with bright red cap.
His eyes meet mine. "Let's go."
Go where?
My gaze follow his tall, skyscraper height exiting the drawing room with the bottle and a glass. I pick the plate with muffins, being slightly puzzled, wondering where he is going when the TV is right in front of us.
Curiously, I trail behind Dakota as he leads the way upstairs. My mind juggles with thoughts, he didn't even ask me what movie I want to see.
Don't tell me he was talking about porn videos?
And why are we heading to my room, for a more comfortable movie experience, or for another violent act-on-bed?
But then he turns the direction of his steps and leads us to his.. Bedroom!
I watch him bewildered as he unlocks the door to his private room, a space he has always kept hidden from everyone. Is he serious?
"Coming in?" Dakota asks, holding the door open for me.
It feels like an invitation to explore what mystery he is and with a slight smile, I step in.
I forgot how empty and barren his room appears. I can never get over the horror I had felt seeing his room for the first time. Plain walls, devoid of any furniture or personal touch, with just a mattress left on the floor like a confined ward for psychotic patients.
Plus, there is no TV! What the hell are we doing here?
Dakota opens the door to his bathroom and my confusion only intensifies. Frown deepens on my forehead as I walk after him, stunned, when he carefully places the bottle of wine and the glass on the counter and retrieves a remote from the drawer.
With a press of button, the white screen in front of the bathtub lowers, replacing with a sleek black screen. Mada-FOOK!
That's a whole ass TV in here, right in his bathroom!
Dakota then turns on the water in what looks like an Egyptian-style tub and drops in a dark purple bath-bomb. The water instantly start to fizz with bubbles and changes it's the colour.
Wait! Does he mean watching a movie in here? In the bathtub? Together?
Before my brain could process, Dakota turns to face me. His eyes dark and expression unreadable as he lets his eyes wander over me.
"The dress looks good, but it has to go now."
"What?" I almost gasp.
Cocking his head to the side, he utters a single word.
"Strip."
He whispered so softly, so gently that my ears couldn't believe it was his voice.
I blink at him, shocked and still in a daze, wondering did he really say that, or my mind is playing whisper games with me?
"What happened? Feeling shy?" Dakota teases, raising a brow at me.
"You have stripped in front of me so many times that it should be listed as a hobby in your resume." He chuckles, removing his wallet and phone from his pocket.
I scoff. This asshole!
"I-" My witty comeback suddenly lost its way when I see him stripping instead.
Dakota unbuttons his shirt, one at a time, revealing his impressive built chest and those dangerous packed abs. He smoothly shrugs the shirt off his broad shoulders, then proceeds to lower his pants and brief, that too very easily.
He is so comfortable naked, just like an animal.
Whereas I couldn't stop blushing and shaking and shying, unable to hide my coy reaction to his exposed physique.
Dakota climbs into his Egyptian-tub, artfully, like a Pharaoh himself. Water reaches to his chest, damping his nipples and those little hair as he settles down casually.
Pointing the remote at the screen, he presses a few buttons to set everything up and then turns his gaze at me. A playful smirk curve his lips as he asks me,
"Are you just going to stand there till the interval?"
( ????? ??)