Rosario clapped her hands together. "Alright, mi amor, you wait here like a good boy while I get your breakfast."
Ah, yes. As if I had any other choice.
She straightened, smoothing down her skirt, then leaned down… too damn close—to adjust my pillow. The scent of jasmine and whatever cheap detergent she used filled my nose. My eyes, despite my best efforts, dipped again to the view her blouse so generously offered.
Dio mio.
I wanted to turn my head away. Or at least pretend to be disgusted by it because I'd rather look away than let my big Daddy monster rise with no hope of a release.
But no—my useless, disabled state meant I could do neither. So I just lay there, stiff as a corpse, with Rosario completely unaware that she was committing a crime against my sanity.
She patted my chest with the condescending fondness of a grandmother. "You wait, eh? I'll bring you something warm."
