Hunger

Chapter 9

I examined his eyes, his face so close to mine. He seemed deep in thought as he stared back at me. 

"You know a funny thing?" I said, narrowing my eyes.

"Hm? What?" He snapped out of his thoughts.

"I, weirdly, still don't speak Italian" 

He bit his lip, suppressing a grin. "E sono contento, petalo"

(And I am glad, petal)

I crossed my arms and glared at him. "Well, the maids gone. Can I move?".

His mouth moved into a disapproving line as his eyes darted between mine. Abruptly, he rolled off me and stood up, leaving me there as he walked into the bedroom. What was that?! What is with this guy?!

I huffed, rolling my eyes and sticking my tongue out at the door he had exited. I figured out the controls for the shower before stripping and hopping in. The water felt amazing. I nosed through his arrangement of shampoos, conditioners and body washes. As I got out of the shower, I couldn't help but smell the scent of him that lingered on my skin. I reached for the towel rack, only for my hand to grasp the metal pole. There was no towel, but I had checked there was one there before I got in? Dammit Marco!

I growled, sticking my head out of the bathroom door and peering around the room. No sight of the Italian asshole. I moved like lightning towards the wardrobe. Before, of course, deja vu happened. The familiar lock in the door clicked and I ran for the bed covers. Why does this keep happening! I wished it was the maid. But, of course not. Marco strolled in wearing a tuxedo. His eyebrows were furrowed and his face was contorted with anger until his eyes rested on  me, hiding under the bed covers. His face was so terrifying that I didn't know what to say. Once he took in my appearance, his features softened and he smirked. "Something the matter, Rose?"

"Yes, actually." I glared, confidence returning, "some inconsiderate bastard stole my towel."

"Correction, my towel, petalo." He fought to suppress laughter, "If I didn't know any better, I would say this looks like an invitation." He bit his bottom lip, seductively. It did though, I mean I was naked in his bed.

"Shutup and give me the towel!" I was feeling too exposed for comfort and my face was turning a colour that would put a strawberry to shame.

He rolled his eyes before striding to the wardrobe. Effortlessly, he reached up to the top and grasped the purple plush towel that was on the towel rack earlier. He threw it at me, I stuck out my arms before it collided with my face.

He ran his hands through his hair as I covered myself. Making an effort to ignore the eyes that followed me, I walked to the wardrobe. Choosing a black dress with a belt, I took it off the hanger and turned to him with my eyebrows raised. He rolled his eyes again and his gaze dropped to an iPhone he had retrieved from his pocket. 

As I stood behind the wardrobe door to get dressed into new underwear and clothes, I remembered the morning, "where did my dress from last night go?". 

He chuckled. "Would you believe me if I said you took it off yourself?".

"What?... Oh no, was it warm last night?" I have an annoying habit that as soon as I get too hot when I am sleeping, I won't wake up or move from under the covers. No, I strip myself while still asleep. I have always done it, but this is the first time I have in the company of a man. 

"I didn't notice, I think so." He answered, absentmindedly. "You startled me though, you sort of sat up with your eyes still closed. Took off your dress and dumped it on my head before flopping back down and snoring again."

"I do not snore!" I objected, stepping from behind the wardrobe door in the new dress.

"Certo che no", he murmured sarcastically as he spun me around and bustled me out of the door, my hair still soaking wet.

(Sure you don't)