Soul of a Man (The Dark Souls 1) - Page 17

Cara shivered. “Do you think whomever it was will come back?”

Jericho gave her a hard stare. “You tell me? Whoever it was, they were shooting at you. Do you have any idea who it could be?”

Cara shook her head. “No, the one who tried to destroy my sisters and I was an immortal. Who shot at us today was obviously human. They want to hide their identity from those watching us and want their identity to remain secret. They know my family will retaliate as soon as they find out who tried to harm us.”

“What do you mean, those watching us?” Jericho looked around the room as if they were surrounded by invisible entities.

Cara laughed at him. When he turned his cold expression back to her, she guessed he had no sense of humor. “No one is in the room with us, but my family can look at us from time to time. Sort of like your reality TV.”

“Is there a way to turn it off?”

Cara couldn’t help laughing once more. “No.”

“Were they watching when we were having sex?” Again, he looked around the room as if he could see those watching them.

“There is an unspoken rule allowing us privacy at such times, but,” Cara bit her lip to keep her laughter contained, “we do have the occasional voyeur.”

“Tell them to cut it out.”

Cara spread her hands out. “How do you propose I do that? I can no longer communicate with them.”

“Well, think of something,” Jericho ordered her.

Cara silently looked at him, noticing the faint blush that covered his cheeks. It was dawning on her that he was uncomfortable. “Are you embarrassed?”

“Why shouldn’t I be? You just told me that several immortals are watching every move we make, including those of a private nature, and I am supposed to be okay with that? Can I ask what made you assume that I am an exhibitionist?”

Cara tried, she really did, but she couldn’t hold her laughter back any longer. She doubled over when his affronted expression became too much for her to bear.

“Well, I can see that you are in no mood to be reasonable, so I’m going to bed. If you’re hungry, you can forage for yourself. Goodnight.” He was almost out of the room before Cara could gather herself.

“You mean you are going to your room? But I thought…” This time it was Cara’s turn to blush.

Jericho didn’t even turn around, the arrogant jerk that he was simply kept walking out of the room. “Until you can figure a way to keep prying eyes away from my bare ass then our show has just been cancelled.”

Jericho woke the next morning to the smell of frying bacon, and unless his twitching nose was mistaken, he also sniffed the odor of biscuits. He was thirty-five-years-old and had never woken to the smell of a cooking breakfast.

He pulled a soft pillow over his face, blocking out the smells. The inept girl was probably getting ready to burn down his cabin. The food couldn’t possibly taste as good as it smelled. She was taking over his cabin as if she was going to be staying, as if she belonged. He was going to set her straight. Right after he tried her breakfast.

Cara fumbled with the frying pan, wincing as the popping grease struck her hands. The cooking show hadn’t shown that there was going to be popping grease. If they were going to give a cooking demonstration, then they at least should be accurate, you would think. Especially if it could involve the possibility of pain.

“Darn it!” The pan slid crazily as she tried to maneuver it off the hot burner.

“Having problems?” Cara looked up to find Jericho standing in the doorway.

He had expected a mess; to see flour strewn everywhere and burnt food. Instead, the table had a platter of biscuits waiting, a heaping bowl of scrambled eggs and the bacon was sitting on the counter. She had also set the table with plates and silverware. Beside each plate sat a glass of orange juice. Jericho felt his throat tightening.

“How did you do all this?”

Cara gave him a cheeky grin. “Did you know that there is a TV channel that shows you how to cook?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Have a seat. It’s all ready.” Cara smiled at him. He could see the flush of accomplishment on her pretty face. There was no way he was going to sit at that table.

“No, thanks. I’m not hungry.” He turned to leave the kitchen.

“I don’t understand. You have to be hungry since you haven’t eaten since yesterday.” The smile was leaving her face and hurt was entering her eyes.

“When I get hungry, I’ll fix myself a sandwich.”

“So it’s because I fixed this food that you don’t want it?” Cara’s confusion had Jericho almost ready to relent until his eyes found the small glass of flowers she had set on the table.

Angry, Jericho pointed to the table. “Why did you do all this?”

Her confusion deepened as he took a step back from the table. Cara stared at the table that was making him so angry. “I thought you might be hungry.”

“No, that’s not why you did it.” He looked at her with fury in his eyes. “You are trying to make more out of this than there is.”

“More out of what?”

“Us. What you may believe happened yesterday in the cave. You are trying to find a place here as if you’re going to stay. As if you think we are a couple now with all the happily ever after bullshit.”

“And my cooking breakfast says all that?” Cara watched as he nodded his head.

She turned off the stove and moved towards him, noticing how his eyes slid down her body. She hadn’t bothered to dress. Her body had seemed to finally become acclimated to the environment and she had simply cooked in the t-shirt she had put on to sleep in. The thin white shirt only came to the tops of her thighs and showed that she wore no underwear. He took a step back as she stalked toward him.

“So we’re not a couple, but it was you who wanted to know if I was your woman yesterday. What w

as that?”

Jericho shrugged. “It was a moment of adrenaline, us responding to the danger around us.”

“That was it? So, let me get this straight. You want to fuck me when you want to with no strings attached?”

Anger darkened his eyes. “It’s called friends with benefits.”

“Well, I’m learning all kinds of useful information from you, Jericho. I just can’t express my gratitude at you guidance.”

Jericho tried not to notice how her breasts strained against the thin t-shirt. How her anger was making her breasts jiggle with her quickened breathing. His hands clenched into fists to keep himself from grabbing the firm mounds of flesh.

He watched as she turned to walk over to the pretty table she had set. “And since you don’t want to eat the breakfast I cooked because I might misinterpret what it means, let’s see if you can figure out what this means.” With the speed of a striking snake, she picked up a glass of the orange juice and flung the cold contents into his face.

Stunned, Jericho was motionless for a second until he saw her reach for the bowl of scrambled eggs. Quickly, he moved forward until he could reach her arm holding the eggs. “Put them down,” he ordered.

“My pleasure.” With a twist of her fingers, she let the eggs slip out of her hand. The bowl with the hot eggs landed on his bare feet.

“Damn, that hurt.”

“Good.” Cara moved to grab the biscuits.

“Stop it, Cara!” Jericho tried to stop her, but slid in the eggs, barely managing to catch himself from falling on the floor by grabbing the edge of the table for balance. Cara helped by pushing his head forward into the platter of biscuits. Not content with only doing that, she used all her strength while he was off balance to smash his face into them.

“Cut it out!” Jericho finally managed to get his balance in the slippery mess, barely able to breathe. He also managed to extradite himself from the enraged woman’s hands. “Have you lost your mind?”

Tags: Jamie Begley The Dark Souls Paranormal
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