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"How many sandwiches today?" she asked, already knowing the answer.
"Four," Trevor said around a mouthful or something, probably fruit.
She opened the refrigerator door and nearly groaned. "I might be able to stretch out three. I was supposed to go shopping yesterday," she muttered pathetically. She could cry. She really could. She was exhausted and sore in the most delicious places and had been looking forward to coming home to a hot bath, her bed, and a book after work, but now it looked like she had to hit the grocery store first.
"That's fine," Trevor said, placing his hand on her hip as he reached past her and grabbed the gallon of orange juice she kept for him. "I have a few things I need you to pick up anyway." He slid his hand from her hip to her bottom and gave it a light squeeze that reminded her of something else she was really hoping to do tonight.
"Okay, just add whatever you need to the list. It's on the counter," she said, trying to sound cool and relaxed and not ready to jump him. After last night she shouldn't be able to move never mind be anxious for round two, but she was.
Five long years will do that to a woman.
"I can't remember what they are just now. I'll probably remember when I'm at work," he told her as he stepped away from her. She wasn't that surprised. He usually remembered what he needed to tell her at work. He'd stop by the office or more often than not call her to tell her what he needed.
"That's fine. As long you remember before I leave for the day otherwise I'll probably forget that you needed something," she said, grabbing all the food required to feed a Bradford and stepped around him to unload everything onto the counter.
"I'm going to ask the guys at work today if anyone wants a dog," he said as she started the long assembly line of condiments and fillers.
She tried not to look at the puppy that she'd started to think of as her baby and force herself to focus on the task at hand, but she couldn't help but look down at the adorable furry face that was silently pleading for a slice of Trevor's ham.
"Don't even think about it, woman," he warned.
"I wasn't going to give him a slice?" she lied, sounding as though she was asking a damn question. Seriously, why did she do that? She'd been thinking about it and might have decided to wait until Trevor turned his back so she could sneak Toby a piece of ham, but she'd in no way given herself away. At least she didn't think she had. Then again he was a Bradford and probably had some special connection with his food.
He snorted his disbelief. "Yeah, right."
She glared at him only to end up laughing when he glared right back at her. "Alright, so I was going to give him one slice, but it's not as if you would have noticed," she said, already knowing it wasn't true before the last word left her mouth.
He cocked an eyebrow in disbelief. "You're shortchanging me on a sandwich, woman. Trust me, I would know."
"Fine," she mumbled, returning her attention back to making his lunch and not the puppy whimpering pathetically and nudging her pajama clad knee with his muzzle, making her feel bad.
Worrying her bottom lip, she shot a look down at the dog and met big round sad puppy eyes. Damn it! Her eyes shot up to find Trevor rummaging through the cabinet she kept filled with his snacks.
Maybe he really wouldn't notice, she thought as she reached for the last slice of ham, never taking her eyes away from Trevor, and slipped it to the dog, who just had to go and give her away by smacking his lips.
Trevor gasped as he turned around, narrowing his eyes accusingly on her. "Zoe," he said as he dropped the package of snack cakes on the table and stalked after her. "What did you do?"
"Umm, nothing?" she said, backing away as he slowly advanced on her. As he passed the counter his eyes shot to the now empty deli packages and then to her.
"Where's the last slice of ham?" he asked casually as though he weren't currently stalking her around the kitchen island.
She worried her bottom lip as she considered her choices and kept moving her ass away from Trevor, who looked damn determined. That was understandable, she supposed. He was a Bradford she'd just screwed out of food. Her eyes shot to the open kitchen door, but she really didn't think she'd make it there in time and judging by the expression on Trevor's face, he knew it too.
"It's gone," she said, swallowing nervously.
"I see," he said, following her at a leisurely pace. "You gave my ham to the dog, didn't you?"
"Maybe," she mumbled.
Trevor sighed heavily. "I guess there's no choice but to punish you," he said in an offhand tone.
"What do you mean?" she asked, already knowing that he would never hurt her, but really when a man well over six feet tall with an insane amount of muscle says he's going to punish her it's natural to get a little nervous.
He simply shrugged. "I guess I'm going to have to spank your ass."
Zoe blinked and then blinked again before she burst out laughing. "You're kidding, right?" she asked as she slowed her pace so that she could catch her breath.
"I'm afraid not, Zoe," he said, sounding serious, really serious, but she noted the amusement in his eyes and his lips twitching as he stopped on the opposite side of the island. She paused mid-stride and jumped back to what she deemed at that moment was safety, the opposite side of the kitchen island.
"Y-you're going to be late for work," she stammered out as the thought of what Trevor had in mind both intrigued and excited her. Never in a million years would she have thought this man had a playful side. He always seemed so serious as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. It was nice to see him smile about something other than food.
"I think I can make time for this," he said, winking.
She swallowed hard as she looked around for any excuse to save her ass from a sound spanking. When her eyes landed on the half made sandwiches she nearly sighed with relief. "I have to finish making your sandwiches," she pointed out.
"Okay," he said slowly, nodding as he leaned back against the sink. "Go ahead," he said, gesturing lazily towards the piles of food. "I can wait."
She was afraid of that.
As she finished making his lunch and packing it she kept her eyes on him, noting the amused expression on his face and wondered if she could talk him out of it. Not because she thought he'd hurt her. No, she was afraid he was turning her into a slut and she'd attack him to finish the job.
This was bad. She never remembered being this turned on by any of her old boyfriends. Then again none of them had looked like Trevor Bradford. The man was a walking advertisement for sex and good god did the man know his way around a woman's body.
