His Pumpkin (Book 1)

Meet

Quinn POV

The scent of Listerine mouthwash ram to my nose when I blow air in my palm near my face. A smile pokes the dimples on my ample cheeks when the smell of cinnamon and chocolate are no longer feasting my breath. One noisy belch makes me titter, run my hand in a circular motion on my full tummy before spreading my arms and let my back falls in my precious soft bed, bounce as I drop and sink.

The arms sway in the comforter, like a bird flying in the sky while facing my painted ceiling, cherish the cotton bed sheets when the sound of alarm jingle in my iPhone. Lifting my body, I take the phone beside the lampshade. A reminder flickering in the screen, for I set it yesterday.

Time to take your pill.

Swiping the screen to the left, the alarm stops to buzz. I place my phone back to the same spot before opening the drawer of my bedside table. The album that holds my baby photos is inside, lifting it, the box of contraceptives that I’m hiding array. My Wolf gave it to me two days ago and explained that I need to start taking it.

As I pull the strip out of the box, the nineteen pieces of small tablets show while two slots are empty. I’m not good at this and usually forget, so I choose to put an alarm on my mobile. After he landed it to my hand, I decide to use it the same day. The purpose of the medicine is well-known to me, but on how to use it, that’s what I search in my laptop even I read already the instructions.

It’s twenty-one pieces, one week is for rest day according to the internet and takes again after. But if I forget one pill, the effectiveness will lessen, and it scared me. I’m still young, full of dreams and to get pregnant too early is not in my list. My Wolf remind me that it’s me who will be responsible for this, he trusts me, and I will not break that.

The question of why it’s not him who used protection instead of me is pop out in my mind, yet his explanation turns me red before I can ever speak loudly what’s playing in my mind.

I want to feel every inch of you… fully.

His words still have the power to control the pound of my heart, savage the circulation of my blood as the current travel to my layers instantly every time I remember his hot bold comment. In a mind that covers with bliss, I pull one pill, shove it in my mouth, take the glass of water in the side table and drink.

As I place the pills back to my drawer, my body crawls to the bed and open the laptop lying over my pillow. The bright light flashes in the monitor when my fingers caress the touch-pad. It contributes to the yellowish glow coming from the lampshade since the fluorescent of my room is switched off.

Pointing the arrow on the folder figure located at the lower part of the screen, I press the pad and let the content inside consumes my monitor. It was him, the photo of my only man. This sound funny, how I look like a stalker having his picture from afar in a different angle, in a different location in and out of our house when he is not aware.

My fingers rub the screen when my favorite photo appears like I can touch his face by doing that. He is holding a cue, bending, pointing that long stick in a black ball that possessing a number eight in the middle. My brother, uncle, cousin and some of his friends are also around that billiard table that time, watching him while holding the same stick.

Surrounded by good-looking men, I have very efficient defenses in falling in love with any of my brother friends. They are just my buddy, give them high five, hook my arms over their shoulder and flick their earlobes. Thou some of them asks if they can date me, and my crazy brother doesn’t mind, yet he announces that he will kill them if they broke my heart.

But in him, the first time my two expressive eyes lay to him, I got lost. He has tousled long curly dark brown hair with a tan skin that matches to his Adonis look. When his coal eyes locked on mine, I see constellation instead of pupils, make me weak at the knees. The nose is a prominent bridge, aquiline, perfect on his lips that flushing a shade of carmine.

Tiny beard is stuffing his chin unto jawline, and when the side of his lips moves for a sexy smile, my nervous system almost freak out. Thou I am few inches shorter on his tall build, I feel like my feet are melting, becoming small as I eventually bid my goodbye to hide the flushes of my skin.

The feeling is so new to me, cause me to turn around, brisk the step of my wobbling feet with my hand gripping the front chest fabric of the costume I’m wearing, for I can’t breathe, I can’t control the feral thump of my heart in my case.

Emma loves to sing the song, Take My Breath Away of Berlin, with too much emotion and body movement that turn to be hilarious to watch. Now, that line seems to make a sense on me, as I experience it right at that moment. It numbs my body and the consciousness born in my fiber thinking how I look.

In the heart that breaking my cage, I can’t help but stop in the middle of the stair, take another look at the billiard spot, land my eyes on the specific person who takes every ounce of my breath in one glance. His gravity is too strong, pull me to glide my hand in my pocket and take my iPhone.

As I raise my mobile, I choose the camera button, position on his spot, double-tap the screen to zoom in. I focus the lens on him, and when his great feature display fully, I click the capture button.

Click!

Flash!

“What the f**k!” The circuit in my brain scream.

The dim bulb that design in purpose to make the room exotic and artistic is suddenly light up in a second with the white spark of my device. My eyes almost drop each lash due to excessive opening when his hand with the stick stop to move, head turns to me as well as some visitor who’s not busy chatting to others. And I pray that the wall just eats me when his lips that seducing my mind lift for a teasing grin. My stomach is heavy, not just cheeks but the full face is burning as I run upstairs like a lion is chasing me.

The loud laugh coming from my mouth break the silence of my room as I remember the first time I meet him. My hand brushes my eyes, removed some tears that formed in my superfluous chuckle. That crazy incident still makes my body shake and rip my lips.

Pressing my mouth on the screen of my laptop, I kiss his photo and mumble “goodnight, my Wolf,” before clicking the shutdown button and fold my MacBook. As I place it at the side table, I grab my long panda pillow, hug it with a flashed of a winning smile in my face and shut my eyes, dream about the man who complete me today.