Taming His Stallion [BWWM]

45_Stay

Paege

Mmmm.

Fried eggs ... sausages.

And the distinct buttery goodness of a vaguely familiar, yet indecipherable dish, reached out to me in the deep riptides of sleep, tugging me back to consciousness.

Whatever the mystery dish, I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Though there was a subtle hint of familiarity about it, I'm sure. I just couldn't figure it out.

One thing was certain though, the combination had been solely responsible for provoking a raucous inside my belly.

An almost feral whine had erupted from my gut, without so much as a warning. A verbal protest really. Loosely translated, it went something along the lines of: 'being woken up--something, something, something--the indecency of being a casualty of neglect and starvation'.

What? Don't ask me! I'm just the messenger. Seemingly, that thing had a mind of its own–and bordered on obnoxious and unruly. I don't know if this was what Bell went through every waking moment, but I think I'm starting to understand a little. My belly was a bully.

Yup! My belly woke me up, and it wouldn't shut up since. Apparently, it's my very own internal alarm clock. Although, if I'm being honest, it doesn't always work out. For instance, it twisted in knots of agony and indigestion from time to time. Even uncontrollable grumbling at the worst timing.

Gosh, I needed to train that thing. I stretched out beneath the soft comforter that had been delicately and thoughtfully draped over me, as yet another whine reverberated through my belly.

Great! I inwardly groaned. Thanks ... thanks a lot!

Gosh, this ambush–

Who did I repay for this?

Not only had this vicious assault on my senses aroused me from my much-needed rest. But it also stirred a current of biting hunger that had yet to relent its grip on me.

Could I blame them though? Whoever the person was, they must have been hungry too. How could I blame them for simply trying to appease their hunger? How were they to know that my belly had no self-control? Or patience, for that matter?

Goodness, I was more at odds with my confrontational gut. The least my belly could do at this point was cooperate. I mean, especially with everything that had occurred earlier, I'd think it would've been at least a little more understanding. However, that was not the case. It was unforgiving–ruthless, even.

Why co-operate, right?

The maker of that meal–the culprit, the source of my pain–whoever they were, I thoroughly hoped that they were grateful. They had better be, considering they single-handedly brought on an avalanche of torment in me.

They were one lucky son of a gun, no less. And I hoped they came to understand that very soon.

Wait–

I shot up off the bed into a seated position as flashes regarding the series of events–of a few hours ago–subdued my mind in a turbulent current of memory. The residue of such a trying ordeal sent aftershocks of trepidation racing through my heart.

The mere thought of all that had occurred set my pulse racing, and left me struggling to take the reins. I wrestled to calm myself down, managing only just.

Oh, thank God that this nightmare had been averted.

Everything came rushing back–most notably the worrisome predicament of attempting the rescue of Angel and Tempers from their abductors.