Page 13 of Penny
"Get up and eat," he demanded.
His dark eyes leisurely scanned my bare legs and rumpled shirt, his gaze lingered on a sliver of my exposed sex. Heat washed over me, and I parted my thighs slightly, holding still for him to drink me in. My pulse hammered in my ears, and I held my breath as he leaned against the doorway, crossing his arms. He tilted his chin down at me, biting his lower lip.
"Don't play with me,Mo Cuishle. You may get bitten," he rasped.
My fine hairs stood on end. His face lifted in a small smile for a split second, fueling my adrenaline with high octane gasoline, waiting for a match to set me ablaze. He turned and walked away, chuckling from down the hall. I threw myself back to the soft sheets, letting out an annoyed scoff. Should have seen that one coming.
The kitchen tile chilled my bare feet, and I hugged my stomach, wishing I had more than his long t-shirt to cover me. The smell of hash browns and eggs filled the air, and I moaned, anticipating a food orgasm. It had been two days since I’d eaten last. My salivating mouth and growling stomach urged me toward the half-naked man standing in front of the stove. My shoulder pressed against him as I inspected the shredded potatoes perfectly crisping in the skillet and the eggs sizzling in the pan next to it. He looked down at me as I licked my lips, greedily wanting to eat everything he prepared.
"I would ask if you were hungry, but I feel that would be a stupid question considering you look like a kid in a candy store." He chuckled, grabbing the pan to flip the eggs into the air with a flick of his wrist.
This man was going to kill me by making me wait for this food. Ironic, really, considering he’d had me by the throat multiple times already.
"Go, sit down. I'll bring you a plate." He pointed to the island with four padded black stools.
His mood was different, and dare I say, kind? I bit my lower lip and whimpered, reluctantly walking away. My stomach was filled with knives, and I didn't want to wait another moment to eat.
The last time I was this hungry was when I realized fast-food places threw away their extras at the end of the night. Most of them knew the homeless would rummage through their trash and they would package it for us, leaving it next to the garbage can instead of throwing it in.
When I discovered those places left scraps, I went running over to a fancy restaurant, skipping with excitement, thinking they would have the same. When I hopped into their dumpster, one moment, I was kneeling in filth, ripping at the bags to get to the baguettes and fruit inside. The next minute, my hands were burning from the chemicals. I looked up into their camera, peering down at me, and my limbs went limp. They were probably watching, laughing as my skin burned.
"Do you want any hot sauce?" Connor asked, breaking my thoughts.
My head snapped up at him, and he held a bottle of Tapatio and one more with a skull on it. I salivated, nodding my head rapidly. He set it down and turned away, walking to two elaborate coffee machines, shining like they belonged in a hipster's coffee shop.
"Coffee or espresso?"
"Espresso, but do you have half-and-half by chance?" I'd missed lattes, and I really hoped he said yes. He didn't respond and instead pulled the fridge open. His back stretched, making his tattoos dance on his muscles and his sweats drop lower on his waist, exposing little dimples above his ass. For a moment, I forgot I was hungry as I watched him move through the kitchen to froth the milk and plate my food.
He placed a black dish in front of me with four eggs over-easy and a large portion of hash browns. My eyes were wide, but I patiently waited for him to pull up a seat next to me. His soft skin pressed against mine as he ate next to me. My muscles tensed as I forced myself to not flinch away, rationalizing that he probably wouldn't steal my food.
"Thank you," I whispered, looking up at him.
He gave me a prideful smile, nudging his head for me to dig in. He didn't have to tell me twice. I scooped a large bite of the hash browns, not caring if I was being delicate or dainty, and I shoveled it into my mouth. It could have been anything and I would have devoured it just the same. His black chandelier reflected the sunlight shining through the windows, and I glanced over my shoulders to take everything in. The city appeared small from this high up, and the traffic looked like ants.
“The view is my favorite part of this house,” he chimed in, barely touching his food.
“How long have you lived here?” I asked, shoving a bite of eggs into my mouth.
“My uncle picked it out for me five years ago before he left.”
“There is another one of you?” I grumbled, wanting to know what else I had to deal with in this family.
“Sort of. He’s been missing for four-and-a-half years,” he murmured, scraping his fork through the food on his plate. Was he not hungry?
“Were you close?” I wasn’t sure if I truly wanted to know, but pressure built in my chest, demanding more information.
“Meh. He took care of us a lot growing up. He was okay, especially for being a Kilbane. He fucking stunk, though, as if he owned a cigar shop.” He laughed, finally taking a bite of his hash browns.
This version of Connor was relaxing, and I tried to take a deep breath to encourage my limbs and muscles to uncoil. My head knew better than to let my guard down, though. I needed to keep my edge.
“Where did he go?” I asked.
“Where everyone my father doesn’t like goes… In the dirt.”
Chapter 10
Liam
