Although I don’t expect this will be a problem once I get her to fall for me and I take her home to the family. Once she’s under my roof, she won’t ever need to be alone or unprotected, not with me, Dad, Ma and my two ex-marine brothers having her back.
Which reminds me…I need to call those two fools and get an update on the little job I have them working. But not yet. My girl’s been passed out for almost twelve hours on that shit I gave her and she must be hungry. Food first.
“Come on, baby, come sit while I throw together some lunch.”
Her eyes are shooting sparks at me through the fear, but after a slight hesitation, she follows me to the counter, takes the barstool I’m holding out, and watches me like a hawk while I throw together a meal of steak, potatoes that I put in the oven earlier, and a protein shake that I’ll shove down her throat if she tries to ignore it.
“I don’t eat this.”
So defiant. I’m going to enjoy bringing her to heel.
I know she doesn’t eat this kind of food. I’ve seen the discount shit she eats and I won’t have it. Chicken is fine, but the woman eats it boiled, no seasoning, and way too often for my liking.
“You eat what I give you. And drink your shake.”
You would swear she wasn’t in a hostage situation, or that the fear she’s still carrying around like a shroud isn’t there, because my barked order had the opposite effect of what I expected.
“It’s all fried and has enough butter and salt on it to kill a full-grown man. As for that slop you poured in the glass…hell no. I don’t like spinach. Or raw eggs.”
“Too bad. Eat your food so your ass can stop shrinking. Please.”
I get a huff and another killing glare before she cuts into the steak delicately and takes her first bite. She likes it if that moan she couldn’t curb is true, and Goddamn if her eyes didn’t just roll back in her head when she took a bite of the baked potato.
Good, she likes it. Since I know how to cook, thanks to my tyrannical mother, I won’t have a problem getting my baby back to her normal size ten.
I like my girls curvy and padded enough to take all I have to give. Being a big guy in every department I can’t go around screwing women who look like twigs and will likely break apart under me after one hard thrust.
She eats everything on her plate and even manages to get the shake down with only one or two gags before sitting back and studying me beneath her lashes. The food and quietness have mellowed her enough that she’s not a stiff board anymore and is obviously ready to talk.
I’m not telling her everything, not till she’s fully mine and incapable of leaving me, but I will give her enough to at least relax enough to give us a try.
“Why?”
That’s all she says after minutes of staring at me with dead eyes. I hate that look she gets, as if she’s closed off a big part of herself to survive.
“I’ll answer that question when you tell me what is wrong with you, baby.”
Eyes narrowed, she grinds her teeth and sucks at them in loathing.
“I am not your baby and there is nothing wrong with me. Now answer the question.”
“You are, and there is since I’ve seen you make yourself almost invisible for months now. Tell me, do you pee on a time schedule, too, or do you let your body tell you when to go?”
I’m being cruel, but at this point, I’ll take anger over that dullness she’s trying so valiantly to recapture. Ellie is good at that, and while I understand her need to protect herself, I won’t let her do it with me.
“No answer? Well, then, let me tell you, I’m sick of watching you all but kill yourself with these bullshit defence mechanisms you’ve put in place. You do everything at the right time, in the right way, and never veer off schedule. I know why, baby. It’s easier to barely exist when you never change and your routine gives you a sense of false security, but that shit ends now.”
It will because from now on, not one single day in her life will be the same. I plan to spoil her and surprise her every day, whether it’s something big or small, I don’t care.
I already bought her two cars and one of those expensive laptops every woman needs, along with a new phone, tablet, and one of those reader things that chicks dig so much.
And Ma, after I gave her measurements, has got my girl’s closet stocked to the gills.
I can afford it all since I own two of the world’s leading investment firms and still have my fingers in the family business, though Pop runs that shit, mostly from the safety of his home office so he can keep close to his woman.
“You know nothing about me.”
But I do. Not nearly all I want to know, but everything that I need to for the moment.