“Ouch.”
He nips my flesh, causing me to shudder. “I’d take your mouth or pussy over your hand any day, but babe, that was fuckin’ amazing.”
I slide out from underneath him and snatch my towel. “I have talented hands, what can I say?”
He snorts. “Talented enough to make breakfast?”
“You’re pushing it, biker.”
I shove to my feet and disappear down the hall to get some fresh clothes on. I go for a pair of jeans and a tight, black top that dips low at the front. I throw my hair up into a ponytail that is loose and messy, and then I make my way back out. Krypt is on the phone again, so I decide to attempt breakfast.
I’ll make it clear: I’m not a good cook, but surely I can whip some eggs together. I mean honestly, how hard can it be? I open the fridge and pull out eggs, bacon and some tomatoes. I decide to scramble it all together, so I chop the bacon and tomato into small pieces, crack a few eggs in, and then mix it all with salt.
Krypt watches me, leaning against the doorframe as I mix the eggs over the stove, and then make some toast. When it’s all ready, I place it on the table. He finishes his phone call and walks over, staring at the food. “Looks good,” he murmurs, sitting down and resting his elbows against the table.
“I think I did pretty good.” I smile, shoving my fork in.
He’s quicker than me, scooping up a big bite and shoving it into his mouth. His face twists immediately and my fork halts just before it slips past my lips. I watch as Krypt’s eyes widen and he shudders all over, as though he’s going to vomit. He leans forward and spits the eggs out.
“Oh fuck.” He gasps, poking his tongue out and rubbing it, fucking rubbing it, with his fingers.
“What?” I cry, dropping my fork.
“Did you put the whole fuckin’ container of salt in? Holy shit.”
I give him a sheepish smile. I don’t know how much salt to put in; I don’t cook. I just tipped a few teaspoons, assuming it would be enough.
“Shit, I think I need to wash my mouth out.”
He stands and rushes off down the hall. I lift the eggs to my nose and breathe in. They smell nice. I poke my tongue out and just touch it on the fluffy, yellow goodness. The salt burns my tongue and I drop the fork quickly, scrunching up my face. God, yuck.
“My guess is that you can’t cook?” Krypt says, joining me at the table again.
I look down at my plate. “No, sorry.”
“No problems, babe,” he says, standing and gathering our plates. “I got it.”
I feel like an idiot, but I don’t say any more. I am suddenly feeling fragile, the reality and weight of the situation piling on me. I stand and leave the room, needing some fresh air.
I step out the front door, inhaling as I go. It’s crisp and clean up here, no gas from the city or pollution; just fresh, sweet air.
I sit on the front step, staring out. My eyes well with tears. I guess breakfast was just a way of taking me back to reality, and back to the fact that I’m stuck here with a man I hardly know, in a difficult situation. What’s going to happen when I go back? Will I ever be able to trust the people I work with? What’s going to happen to Tristan?
“Shit is gettin’ to you, isn’t it babe?”
Krypt sits down beside me, resting his hands on his knees and looking towards me.
“I’m fine,” I croak.
“Hey,” he says, reaching over and taking my chin, turning me towards him. “You don’t need to pretend you’re fine.”
I blink back my tears, hating that I’m showing him such a fragile side. “It’s not that I’m pretending. I feel as safe as I can in this situation here with you; it’s just the hurt over Tristan and the things that were happening right in front of me, and I didn’t even know.”
“You were doin’ your job; you thought they were your friends. You don’t find bad shit if you ain’t lookin’ for it.”
He’s right about that; I had no reason to suspect anything. Not until he came in, anyway.
“I worry about my job when I go back,” I admit, staring into his eyes.
“Don’t,” he growls, low and deep. “Because if anyone bothers you, I’ll make it hurt, babe, don’t doubt it.”
“Why would you do that for me?”
He shrugs. “Because you’re a good girl, and I like you.”
“You don’t really know me.”
He pulls my chin so I come closer. “You gave me a chance when no one else did; you believed in me. It’s enough.”
I swallow, staring at his lips, wanting to taste him again. Our moment is interrupted when the phone rings in his pocket. With a curse, he pulls it out and stares down. I can see Maddox’s name flashing across the screen. He presses a button and puts it on speaker.