Chapter 2 – Belle
CHAPTER TWO
BELLE
I said good night at 7:30pm! I haven’t gone to bed this early since I was a kid! It went quiet after a while, and I’m guessing a few of them went home. I could just hear the odd deep rumble of laughter and music in the background. I roll over to the look at the time. Uggh, its 1 am. My stomach rumbles with hunger. Lying there, I decide I’m just going to have to creep to the kitchen and grab myself a snack. I have on only a T-shirt and my underwear, but I’m not concerned. I’m completely covered.
I look up and down the hall and see no one, so I tiptoe along until I find the door for the kitchen. Sneaking in, I walk to the fridge and as I look in, I spot a dish with some pasta salad in. I grab it and quietly close the fridge behind me. I open each draw until I find a fork. Once I do, I perch on a stool and sit there eating.
“Oh my god, this is delicious,” I mumble to myself as I shovel pasta into my mouth.
“You know what they say about people that eat in the dark?” a deep voice says from behind me, making me jump out of my skin. I spin around, a scream escaping me before I throw my fork full of pasta at the person. He switches on the kitchen light, and it’s then that I realise it’s Beast. He stands there, looking down at his bare chest that is now splattered with pasta salad. “Thanks for that,” he mutters.
I place my hand over my heart, trying to calm myself. “Oh my god,” I breathe. “You scared the shit out of me.”
He swipes his finger across the sauce on his chest and places his finger in his mouth. “Hhm, Queenie makes the best pasta salad,” he adds before he reaches for a paper towel to wipe the rest of the mess away. He bends down and picks up my fork up before he runs it under the tap, cleaning it, then he wipes it dry.
I hold out my hand. “Thank you I—” I start to say, but I stop when he doesn’t give me the fork. Instead, he starts eating the pasta salad himself. “Hey, that’s my fork!” I protest.
He frowns, looking down at the fork, then back to me. “I don’t see your name on it,” he points out. I roll my eyes and huff. I am about to jump off the stool to get another fork when he holds out the fork full of pasta. “I don’t mind sharing,” he says, offering it to me. I look down at the fork and back to him, and as I go to take the fork from him, he pulls it back slightly. “Open wide.” He smiles playfully. I pause for a moment before I open my mouth. He places the fork full of pasta in my mouth. I close my mouth around the fork, and he smiles. “See? Sharing isn’t so bad.” He winks as he then places a fork full of pasta in his mouth. I cough a laugh, covering my mouth so I don’t splutter pasta everywhere.
“Do you often creep up on women when they are sat alone in the dark, then force them to share their food?” I smirk.
His eye alight with amusement. “Force you? Force you. I don’t think I held you down and forced you to share. I merely gestured, as that is the polite thing to do.”
“Right,” I say sarcastically.
He just shrugs and continues to feed me more pasta. “Maybe I should be asking why you crept out of your room in the middle of the night to eat pasta salad?” he asks. “Especially while there are things going on you really don’t want to witness,” he adds.
That has me intrigued. “What could possibly be going on that I wouldn’t want to see?”
He places the fork back in the bowl and holds out his hand. “My lady.” He gestures with a wink. I smirk and take his hand as he leads me to the far door, the one on the opposite side of the kitchen. He stops just in front of it. “Now, what I am about to show you isn’t the normal thing a lady should be seeing, but considering the precarious position we found you in this morning, I’m pretty sure you can handle it. It’s filthy,” he says before he places his finger over his lips, shushing me. I nod, my eyes wide. I am kind of excited for what he is about to show me. Pushing the door open, we peer around it, and there laid on the pool table is Spider, completely naked, lying face down, his arm hanging off the table, with a pool que wedged between his ass cheeks.
“Oh my god.” I laugh, quickly covering my mouth with my hand. I turn back around to face Beast. “How? I mean, just how?” I ask confused, yet amused by the sight before me.
Beast shrugs as he walks back into the kitchen. He opens the fridge and takes out a carton of orange juice and drinks straight from it. The light from the fridge casts a glow over his broad body. “No idea.” He sighs between gulps. “It’s just, things get wild.” He shrugs.
“So, you didn’t dare him to do that while drunk?” I ask, watching as Beast still continues to drink from the carton. “And will you just get a glass? I mean, I’m guessing that is for everyone, and you’re drinking out of it like an animal,” I say while scrunching up my nose in disgust.
Beast smiles while placing the carton back into the fridge. “You sound like Queenie. How old are you?”
I cross my arms over my chest. “24. Why?”
“Because darlin’, sometimes you speak like you are a lot older, and to answer your previous question, no, I didn’t dare him. I didn’t join in tonight’s festivities. I was preoccupied,” he states.
The door to the kitchen opens and a woman peeks around it. “Beast, what’s taking you so long?” she whispers.
His gaze doesn’t leave mine. “Nothing. Get back to bed. I will be there in a minute,” he orders.
She nods and leaves, and not once did she look in my direction or argue back with him. I walk to the tub of pasta and grab it before walking to the door. His eyes are watching my every move, making me feel uncomfortable and awkward.
“Well, it’s been interesting, but I don’t want to keep you a moment longer,” I say as I go to step past him, but he moves his body in front of mine, forcing me to stop. I gasp, nearly spilling pasta all over his bare torso. “Careful,” I hiss.
He leans in close, so close I wonder if he’s about to kiss me. His hand cups one side of my face. I try to control my breathing, but I fail terribly as my heart races inside my chest. I want to stop him, ask him what does he think he’s doing, but the connection from brain to mouth has ceased working. His mouth hovers over mine before moving to the side, where he slowly and seductively licks along my cheek. He lets out a deep throaty moan before dropping his hand from my face and moving back. In my aroused state, I suddenly feel like someone has just thrown a bucket of cold water over me. I straighten my back and clear my throat as Beast stands there with a smirk on his face.
“You had some sauce on your face, and Queenie’s pasta salad is too good to waste.” He winks.
My cheeks heat with embarrassment and anger. I push past him, not saying a word. I hear his deep chuckle echoing behind me. Storming back to my room, I walk in and slam my door. I then proceed to flip it off, like Beast is the door. I place down the tub of pasta and pace angrily.
“That mother fucker,” I mutter to myself. “He was just playing a game with me,” I fume. I’m not one to ever be played, ever. Not once has a guy got me that wound up. I look down at the pasta salad. “Stupid pasta salad!” I screech.