Whipped

Whipped Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Holy shit.

Was all I could think of when I woke up.

First of all it was brighter than Ikea's light bulb collection in here, second of all my head felt like it had been smashed with a bag of hammers.

The Egyptian cotton that I was cocooned in once was now thrown off the bed in a flurry of rage. I sat up holding my head ruefully. "Where the fu-" I looked around and let out a squeal when I remembered.

I felt my body for my clothes making sure they were still on my body. Oh my god. Did I?

I gathered my self together, straightening out my blouse and skirt. I tip toed out of Mason's gorgeous bed room into the kitchen and further into the living room. I grabbed my rain wrinkled jacket and purse.

"Off to somewhere?" A deep voice boomed, and I flinched at the piercing pain between my temples.

"Uh not in particular." I muttered sarcastically, while clutching at the side of my head.

An edible Mason wearing only dress pants walked up to me handing me a glass of water and an aspirin.

"Thanks." I looked away from him, while accepting the offer gratefully.

"Won't you stay for coffee?" His look searing my skin.

Don't do it.

"I really shouldn't-" I started but sighed when my gaze me his. "Sure, that'd be great."

"Excellent!" He grabbed my waist gently pulling me after him.

I sat down in the bright kitchen, praying the aspirin would kick in faster.

"Uh did we..?" I blushed staring at the muscles that rippled in his back as he reached for mugs above him.

I watched his shoulders shake while he laughed, "No, but we could still if you want to." He turned to smirk at me and I got hot.

"Uh, I..- We-" I stammered uncomfortably, while looking away.

He placed the coffee in front of me and I pulled it close to me, sipping it slowly.

"Relax Kat, just jesting." He brushed his index finger under my chin and I shivered.

He set a plate of muffins in front of me and I accepted one gratefully on behalf of my hangover.

"You bake?" I asked with a mouth full of muffin. Real classy Kat.

He laughed grabbing one himself, "A little. I used to work in my grandmothers bakery in the Bronx as a kid." He said. "How about you?"

"Uh, a little. I'm better at cooking. Baking is so precise. With cooking I can screw it up a million times and it will still taste pretty decent." I shrugged admitting.

He laughed switching the kitchen radio to some Jazz song that sounded familiar.

"Is this Marvin Gaye?" I asked a little incredulously.

"What didn't expect me to be into that kind of music?" He asked lifting his eyebrows and biting into his muffin.

Can I be that muffin please?

Focus Kat! He asked you a question.

"Uh a little. My daddy listens to him, still." I said dragging out the last word, looking down at my muffin. It was blueberry.