Symphony of Desire [Mature] ✔️

Chapter Three

She continued walking down the hallway, where the scent of bacon was getting stronger. She passed by two doors before arriving at a kitchen. The kitchen was sleek and modern, and she would have continued admiring it had she not noticed the tall man standing with his bare back to her. His skin was fair—almost matching Vesper's own skin tone—though hers was still fairer than his. He was wearing a pair of dark jeans and the waistband of his Calvin Klein boxers was visible. His head was a curly mass of shoulder-length dark brown hair. His back was lean though it was not that muscular, just the right kind.

Now that is one sexy back. She shook her head to erase the thoughts. She was about to call the man's attention when he suddenly turned to face her.

To say that she was shocked was an understatement. She was pretty sure that she looked unattractive with her mouth gaping wide open like a fish out of water but she couldn't help it. This man was the same man she insulted and slapped last night.

This is Pervert-Hobo guy.

She continued to stare at him.

He's even more attractive in the light of day.

She remembered the murky green eyes that she stared at last night. They seemed brighter with sunlight shining upon them. His hair was tucked behind his ears, exposing more of his 5 o'clock shadow. Her eyes roamed from his broad shoulders down to his chest that's covered in a mass of dark curls. Her eyes moved down, following the happy trail of the dark curls that stopped at the waistband of his boxers, and with his jeans hanging deliciously low on his hips, she could see the start of his love handles. He doesn't have washboard abs or a rock-hard chest but his body was lean and was certainly worth lusting after.

"Why, good morning to you too," the man said. Her head snapped up to his direction and saw a stupid grin plastered on his face.

He must've noticed me ogling him. Heat crept up her face and she's sure that she looked like a ripe tomato as of the moment. "Uhm, good morning?" she said. No, why the hell am I greeting him 'good morning'? He might have kidnapped me! "Where am I? Why am I here? Did we.. we did not, right?" she blabbered.

"What? Did we sleep together?" he said nonchalantly.

She winced at the thought. "We did not, right?"

"No, we did not. Screwing unconscious women isn't my thing. I like my women screaming and responding with equal fervour. Plus sex that isn't consensual is appalling. I am not a rapist, okay?"

Relief flooded her brain. "Yeah. Sure. Good to know. Very good to know."

He handed her a bottle of Gatorade and an aspirin. "Here, for your hangover."

"Thank you." She put the pill in her mouth and drank the Gatorade.

"To answer your questions, you're in my apartment. And as for why you are here, you owe me an explanation. But first, sit down for breakfast." He pulled out a chair and motioned for her to sit down.

"I'd rather not. I'd rather leave immediately because in case you've forgotten, you grabbed my arm and then squeezed my ass. Besides, I am not that hungr—" Right on cue, her stomach grumbled loudly, loud enough for the both of them to hear.

"Hungry," he said, finishing her sentence. "Please, sit down and consider this breakfast as a peace offering for last night's events. I apologize; I don't know what came over me."

She continued to stay rooted in her spot so he stood up, led her to the table, and sat her down the chair.

"I apologize too for insulting you," she mumbled.