The Queen of Hearts

CH. 36

Damon Miller

Waking up with Kylie in my arms has to be one of my favorite things in this world. Her body seemed to fit next to mine like a puzzle piece falling into place. I know I should wake her up so we're not late for the Irish raid, but I can't help staring at her.

This woman is a true beauty. Her hair sprawled over the silk sheets, black tattoos decorating her soft skin, but the most beautiful feature of them all, her face completely relaxed without a care in the world.

If only I could guarantee that expression for the rest of our lives. No such luck tho, our life has been and will probably continue being a whirlwind of chaos.

"It's time to get up baby"

A soft moan left her lips as she slowly opened her eyes. I had believed her to rant me out after spilling some emotional words last night, but Kylie being the woman she is, smiles up at me eyes sparkling with something close to emotion.

"Can we please just stay in bed? I'm tired"

"No can do princess. We have some Irishmen to kill"

Like a fire set under her ass, she jumped out of bed heading straight for the conjoined bathroom.

"Why the hell did you let me sleep that long, Damon? This shit is more important than a few hours of sleep"

Her rant was adorable, running around like a headless chicken still wearing my cut. Fuck, I have been dreaming about this moment since I first laid my eyes on her. The picture of her, close to naked only wearing my cut have burned its place on my memory.

To be completely honest, it fit her better than it ever looked on me. It was probably something about the woman wearing it and not the cut itself, but who cares. I could grow old watching this picture for the rest of my life.

"Ky, slow down. We have more than enough time"

"Don't give me that shit Damon! Do you know how long it takes to make this ready?"

Her voice was hard as she gestured to her face and body. I knew full well she could use hours upon hours getting herself ready. When we were younger, Kylie used to spend hours picking out clothes, painting her face and doing her hair. Not that I was complaining. She looked amazing with what ever she chose to do to herself.

She had even given me lessons of what to do with both hair and make-up, preparing me for whenever I would get an old lady of my own. Little did she know back then, that she was the only one I would ever settle with as an old lady.

Trailing after her, I stood in the doorway watching her beat the pink sponge on her face. Kind of strange that everything she owned was either black or red, but the tool being pink. It didn't seem to fit into her color-scheme.

Gently patting along her bruised face, I watched as she time and time again missed the spot just below her ear. Deciding to be a gentleman for once, I walked up to her softly tilting her head to the side, picking up the sponge.

Making small dabs with gentle pressure, I covered her bruise in no time. The action seemed to have Kylie frozen, unable to speak. Her jaw dropped as her eyes filled with yet another unknown emotion.