Chapter Fourteen #2
I open my eyes and find him wrapped around me, his face slack with sleep.
There’s a small frown between his eyebrows, and I reach out to smooth it with my finger.
He grumbles and swats my hand away before huffing and rolling over.
I giggle quietly before sitting up and finding a shirt to throw on over my naked body.
I grimace at the thought of putting on yesterday’s panties, so instead, I grab a pair of Nox’s shorts that are on a chair in the corner of the room.
I pull them up and head out into the living area to make some coffee.
The bedroom was dark, the blackout blinds pulled across the windows, but the sun is shining through the windows at the front of the house.
The bad weather has passed us by, and the ocean is glassy and calm.
The waves rolling in form beautiful sets that look like they may be perfect for surfing.
Smiling, I stretch, but a sharp pain in my finger and a hiss has me yelping.
I stick my bleeding finger in my mouth and glare at the fucking cat. He’s sitting on the top of his cat tree, his tail flicking back and forth aggressively, and there’s a rumbling sound of hostility coming from him. I must have stretched too close to his perch, and he got me when he swiped at me.
“Asshole.” I glare at him. “See if I feed you now.” I stick my tongue out at him and head for the kitchen.
The coffee machine is one of those pod ones, and I fill it with water before searching the cupboards for the pods.
I get it running, and my finger is still bleeding, so I go in search of a bandage to wrap around it.
I can’t find any. He must keep them in his bathroom, and I don’t want to go into his room and wake him up, so I wrap a tissue around it for now.
When my mug fills, I add creamer and sugar and wander out to the patio.
I lean against the railing, one of my cuffs banging against it loudly.
I was able to distract Nox last night, and I never ended up removing them.
I’m not sure how I’m going to continue to hide the marks if we go surfing though.
Maybe he will think they are tattoos. Heck, he has one on his chest, so he’s no stranger to them, but he is somewhat of an expert on supernatural races.
Maybe he has a long-sleeved rash guard I can wear that will hide them.
Before I can worry any more, a warm hand slides under my shirt, and I’m tugged back against a hard body as kisses are placed on my neck. I tip my head to the side and sink back against him as he murmurs in my ear.
“Good morning, did you sleep well?” he asks, and I moan as his hand slips up and cups my breast.
“So well,” I reply, turning my head so he can kiss me. It’s lazy and slow, and just when I’m thinking fuck the coffee and the waves, he pulls away.
“Now that is a good morning greeting.” He grins at me before reaching for my coffee and raising an eyebrow. “May I?”
I nod and pass him the cup. He takes a sip, groaning as he swallows, and my core clenches, but before I can tug him back inside, he notices the tissue wrapped around my finger, and his lips purse in concern.
“What happened?” he asks, passing me my coffee and picking up my injured hand.
“Stormy obviously isn’t a morning cat, or maybe it’s just me,” I reply ruefully.
“Stormy did this?” He sounds surprised, and I nod.
He unwraps the tissue, and thankfully, it’s finally stopped bleeding.
There’s a long, deep scratch that caught the cuticle of my nail before digging into the back of my middle finger.
It’s actually quite an impressive scratch. He was really out for blood.
“I am so sorry. I don’t know what has gotten into him,” he apologizes, scrunching up the tissue.
“Maybe he’s hungry. We did get distracted last night,” I say, kindly making an excuse for the horrible creature.
“He has an automatic feeder, and have you seen him? It’s not like he’s starving.” He moves back inside, and I follow him.
He heads toward the cat tree where Stormy is still standing guard, watching over his domain. He picks up the giant animal, and I watch as he snuggles his face into him while scolding him like he’s reprimanding a toddler.
I’m not sure what breed of cat he is, but he’s bigger than any I’ve seen before.
He bats at Nox’s face playfully, not a claw in sight, before Nox carries him under his arm into the kitchen and prepares him a can of wet food.
He places it in a little ceramic bowl with the word “Stormy” on it before setting it on the ground.
Stormy ignores me as I approach and tucks into his food.
I take a seat at the breakfast bar as Nox grabs a mug and fills it with coffee before offering to refill mine.
I nod, and then we both add cream and sugar before he joins me.
“You up for surfing today?” Nox asks, and I groan and stretch, the aches in my body not easing in the least.
“I don’t know, my body is pretty achy,” I tell him, and his smile turns into a wide, smug grin that tells me he knows exactly what I’m talking about. “Maybe I’ll just sit on the beach and watch. I don’t even have a swimsuit here,” I remind him, and he shrugs.
“I’m pretty sure I have a spare rash guard somewhere that my sister left behind when she and her mat—family visited.”