Emperor of Mayhem

17

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Stirring awake on the almost unfamiliar bed, my tired eyes could barely keep themselves half open to administer the silhouette of a tall, stark naked figure moving around the room.

It was safe to say, I was still ninety percent into the dream land to be able to understand my reality, like how I should definitely freak out that I was currently in a room with a naked man, instead of adjusting the pillow under my head and closing back my eyes.

Slipping quickly back into a deep slumber, I heard it like a rude clarion, the sound of an incoming call that was definitely not mine, but my dull brain carried the signal as an alarm which I didn't have, might I add, and so I grumbled incoherently, pulling the pillow from under my head only to place over my ear.

"Did you find him?" I was dozing off again when a deep voice pierced through my carefully placed shield, reaching my subconscious, and my ears perked up at first, brows knitting themselves now.

"What do you mean not yet?!" The person growled coldly, and the following sound of a fist connecting with a wooden surface snapped my head off the bed, the pillow flying off my face to a corner.

What in the world was going on?

"Now listen and listen good," my wide and aghast eyes searched the room until the bulging pairs fell on the manly frame hunched over a study desk that wasn't mine, bare and muscular back flexing as he bellowed into the phone pressed against his ear.

No, no, no. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be close to what I was currently thinking. Why was I in the same room with a naked Mr Varkov?

"Either you find that bastard and deliver him to me before nightfall, or it's your head I'm gonna have for dinner, you incompetent fool!" The angry man spat.

Something suddenly occurred to me and my eyes went even wider. With bated breath and heart in my throat, shaky fingers lifted off the cover my lower half was hidden under.

Did we do anything, perhaps?

A sigh left my lips when nothing weird was felt, the grey khaki shorts I had on over a baggy T shirt was still snuggled tightly to my legs. Nothing happened down there.

Thank God.

Still confused on how or what I was doing in his room and on his bed, my eyes trailed back to his wide and tanned back covered in inks, followed the wing of an eagle that extended down only to stop at his waistline. I didn't know why I didn't take off my eyes at that point, and allowed it to explore further down, only stopping when they fell on his bare, round and tight ass.

My breath hitched.

Unable to say a word but just panicked breaths escaping my lips, I just sat there on the bed, my brain too paralyzed, and so were my limbs. I couldn't think or move. But I felt the way heat was quickly crawling up my face, a heaviness in my tongue as the anxiety that came with seeing a naked man wired through my veins like a hard drug.

"Find him and bring him to me, dead or alive. Is that clear?!"

I jumped when he slammed his phone on the table, ran a furious hand through his hair before he whipped around in a flash, and his silver eyes found me staring openly at him. First there was shock registering in them, then confusion.