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I still needed a trip to the salon though and my skin looked like the upper layer had been scrubbed clean off, but at least, everything was clear now. There were no layers of dead skin anywhere, no specs of grime...just really clear skin. This drew my attention to how beautiful I was... something I never really appreciated. I remembered Alessandro complimenting me some days back and it warmed my head a little bit. I'd have smiled if I didn't believe that'd be a childish thing to do.
I stood tall and ironed out my posture offering a small smile and not feeling particularly disgusted at the image I saw. I held up my breasts and shook them to myself. Alessandro commented about them too, saying they weren't that big. Maybe they weren't to him, but I could barely fit half of it into my palms spread out open. He didn't notice the size because I wore a loose-fitting night dress. Either that or he has a very superficial expectation for breasts.
Turning different angles, I observed myself in various positions. Using the side view to gauge my backside. I wasn't slacking there either. Facing now, the complete opposite of the mirror, I tilted my head as far back as I could to get another viewing angle. I was far more impressed than when I had last checked myself out. This was something I rarely did, majorly because of how little I cared about others' opinion of me but when I remembered Alessandro's compliments it made me want to confirm.
Without warning, a familiar almost forgotten sensation hit me, and I realized I was still holding on to my naked breasts. The nipples under my touch were now partially erect and sensitiveand I decided, against logical reason, to pinch them. As I did, a flash of Alessandro came to my mind. His ripped torso, toned abs, chiseled skin, hard underneath but soft to the touch. When I opened eyes I didn't know I closed, my buds were aflame, and I felt warmth trickling down my stomach to where I didn't want them yet.
"Okay, bath time is over!" I had to say aloud to bury the feeling of arousal. I hurried out of the bathroom and put on clothes like I had just been caught cheating by a lover. I wore a pair of blue jean shorts and a tank top over my bra, and it was only then that I began to apply lotion to the remaining parts of my open skin to avoid contact with my sensitive parts. This was not a feeling I wanted to have at this time. A lot of other things were more important.
Like breakfast!
I tiptoed from my bedroom to the kitchen trying as much as possible to ignore the scrapping of my nipples against the fabric of my bra. It didn't take much effort now that I had something new to focus on. The rumbling of my stomach protested in starvation as I neared the kitchen. I hadn't eaten since the afternoon of the previous day and the alcohol probably made things worse, even though I still craved it. Luckily, I met Alessandro in the kitchen engrossed with cutting something. I should, on the face of it, have thanked him for carrying me to bed when I fell asleep, but the embarrassment I felt far outweighed the gratitude.
"Good morning," I greeted immediately as I entered the kitchen. He looked over his shoulder and tried to stand up straight.
"Buongiorno, tigre. I was just wond...Ow!" He bumped his head on the base of an overhead shelf. That sent me into a fit of laughter. "Sometimes, I curse my God given height," he pouted, rubbing his presumably sore head, although I doubted it hurt much.
"What are you doing?" I asked. He held out the knife and looked at the chopping board full of chopped vegetables, then looked back at me.
"Well," a light laugh escaped my lips. "What are you cooking?" I rephrase my question.
"Breakfast," he replied shortly. "How's your head?"
"Hurts," I sighed.
"It should."
I chuckled. I looked at his arm to try and make a quick assessment of his wound. When he turned to get something, he saw me looking and looked at it too.
"This?" he nodded to his arm. "Don't worry, it's healing fast. Both bullets didn't go as deep as we thought during your initial dressing."
"What about the other one?" I asked and made my way closer to him when I was sure I was completely rid of the aroused sensations I felt from the bathroom.
"It'll take longer," he replied. "But the doctor said I shouldn't do any exercises that'll strain both muscles for now."
"The doctor doesn't have to tell you that," I smiled and moved to observe what he was cooking. The ingredients looked simple enough. Vegetables, strips of bacon and broken eggs in a bowl, along with some spices and cheese. What I didn't expect was when he sauteed the mixed veggies and bacon before mixing them with the eggs and sticking it in the oven.
Ten minutes later I could feel my nose about to constrict from the aroma that filled the entire kitchen.
"Smells lovely," I smiled and closed my eyes to focus my nasal senses.
"Of course it does. I made it," he boasted.
Cocky bastard.
He opened the oven to take it out and I had to hold my nose to prevent the flood of aroma from hitting me so suddenly, gently relaxing my airways to get small but savory wisps of the deliciousness.
"Frittata," Alessandro announced as he dropped the pan on a rag on top of the island.
"We'll have this with fruit juice while we play Call of Duty, yeah?" he asked me.
"You're not going to work today?"
"Unless I get an impromptu change in schedule, nah."
We both headed to the living room, and I took my seat on a bean bag to be closer to the ground where I set my plate of baked egg delicacy and glass of tropical fruit juice that I was sure I'd need more of while Alessandro went to set up the game.
"Aren't you a little too old for video games?" I asked in amusement when he came to hand me a controller, hoping the taunt got to him.
