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ChapterTwenty-One
When we step inside his house, he extends his arm and keeps me from walking all the way in while he struts to the kitchen.
“Robert, we’ll be cleaning up and then eating alone.”
“Yes, sir. Will you need me back for tonight?”
“No, I’ll be in touch.”
“Have a good day, sir.”
“You too.”
I wait in the foyer, thankful Vicente is dismissing Chef Robert, because it looks like I was mauled by an animal. I’m dirty, my hair’s a mess, clothes are ripped, and my leg has dried blood on it from when I brushed against that rock.
After a couple minutes of shuffling, a door opens and closes before the sound of the garage opening lets me know Robert is leaving.
I walk in and find Vicente with one hand on the back of a dining room chair and his phone in the other.
“Thanks for allowing me some dignity.”
His lips twitch with amusement before he looks at me. “Go shower.” He walks around the table, his fingers tapping on the wood. “I want you here in thirty. Leave your need for dignity in your room.”
He walks off and I fight a smile all the way to the bathroom. I peel my ruined clothes from my body and deposit them in the hamper before standing under near-scalding water. I’m reminded of my injury when soapy water runs into the cut inches above my ankle. I take a moment to clean and inspect it. It’s not too deep, but will likely leave a scar.
After cleaning and shaving my body, I wash my hair and leave the conditioner in for an extra few minutes before rinsing all the soap away and shutting off the water.
Once I comb through my hair, I tie it into a knot on the top of my head and moisturize my skin before finding my belted lounge robe. The long sleeves are soft against my skin, and the dusty pink material stops right above my knees.
Nearing my thirty minute deadline, I send a text to Autumn to let her know I’m okay and that I’ll call her later, and then I leave the phone on my bed and head downstairs. Of course, Vicente isn’t there yet, always the one to have people waiting on him.
I begin to uncover the food so I can reheat it, but then I hear his footsteps getting closer.
“What’re you doing?”
I spin around. “Warming up the food.”
“I told you I wanted you here,” he says, touching the table.
My brows furrow slightly. “To eat breakfast,” I say, gesturing to the food in front of me.
“For me to eat,” he states simply, taking his seat.
I slowly make my way to the table, squeezing between him and the table. “What if I’m hungry?”
He stands and walks to the refrigerator before returning with a covered dish. He pulls the lid off and reveals a bowl full of fruit. He reaches in and grabs a piece of cantaloupe before bringing it to my lips.
My eyes never leave his as he feeds me.
He brings a grape to my mouth next, and I make sure to wrap my lips around his fingers.
When he feeds me a green apple square, his other hand pulls the belt from my robe, allowing the material to open slightly.
When he feeds me the sliced strawberry, he holds his end tight as I attempt to suck it between my lips, his eyes focused on my mouth before meeting my gaze.
Vicente puts the bowl down on the table before lifting me by my waist and setting me on his placemat. He parts my robe, noticing I’m naked behind the soft material. A low growl of appreciation rumbles in his throat as his fingers run up my thigh.
He reaches for another piece of fruit, simultaneously feeding me while teasing me with gentle touches.
